Taking a Break from the Regular Scheduled Programming

So why do people keep on watching? The answer, by now, should be perfectly obvious: we love television because television brings us a world in which television does not exist. In fact, deep in their hearts, this is what the spuds crave most: a rich, new, participatory life. ~Barbara Ehrenreich

Do you remember that a few days ago I wrote a post about how I crave simplicity in Here Am I? Well, I felt compelled to simplify and so....

No more television service until further notice. That's right! I had our satellite service turned off...again. I think the last time was two years ago for about three months while we financially recuperated. I put in for all of the 180 days of suspension they allow, but I will most likely have it turned on again in about two to three months. There is just so much to do and so much daylight to do it in right now that I now longer need the distraction and temptation of unproductive entertainment. In truth, we really do not watch much television and when we do, we shouldn't watch as much as we do...and when I say "we" I mean mostly "me"!

Sadly, I am the one likely to go through the majority of the withdraws, but I need to get out and do, not sit watching others do. I used to have this rule that I would not watch TV unless I was also doing something productive, like cross-stitching, crocheting, hand stitching or whatever. In truth, we have plenty of movies on DVD as well as the ability to watch some of the newer episodes online, and these episodes will be repeated again about the time we will again have it back on.

This will save us $60 a month during the months when our electrical bills are the highest because of air conditioning, so it is a good thing...and that is what I will keep telling myself over and over, as I deal with the urge to turn on the box for the next few days.

~ My Lord, thank you for simplicity. When we do turn the TV service back on, please help me to use it more as a tool for education than for entertainment, and to make wise and productive use of the time I watch the movies we have on DVD until then. ~

Prayful Fasting for My Church

Prayer is where the action is. ~John Wesley

Isn't that a simple, yet powerful, quote? I have never heard it before, but it is definitely a new favorite.

I have felt called to fast for my church this week. I am sacrificing excess fat on the altar, so to speak, hoping to please my Lord, so He will bless my church. A few people have left, really very few, but with a such a small church, a family or two is many. Of the remaining people, some are struggling with personal finances. Now our church is running in the red monthly as well.

We all have been praying lately about our church and prayers are being answered. One couple had decided to close their business at the end of the month, but they received an offer to buy it from out of the blue. Although it will not wipe out their debt, it certainly helps more than just closing and receiving nothing would have.

This reminds me of the time when my husband lost his job 2½ years ago. I felt guilty, because I believe I should be content in all circumstances, and yet I also felt desperate to fast and pray about our situation. My Lord answered. Not only did He tell me that my husband would be hired, but He told me who would hire him. On the last week of his severance pay, he was called to interview for a job, one for which he had not applied, and he was offered the job that day.

Should I not feel as desperate to fast and pray about the situation with my church? Yet, the Lord had to bring this before for a few weeks before I actually decided it was the thing to do.

Before you get the wrong impression, because it probably seems to others that I fast often, fasting is not something I always look forward to doing. I am well acquainted with benefits: hearing my Lord clearly, feeling closer to my Lord, having prayers answered, and even the physical benefits of cleansing, detoxification, and losing unneeded weight. There is the downside of fasting: low energy, still making meals for my daughter, socially awkward, the craving to just eat, and then there are the many people who just don't get why anyone would do it. It is not a religious requirement and we are living in the Age of Grace, so why should I do something I don't have to do, even though Jesus Himself fasted. At times, even to me, it seems like a thankless duty, an unnoticed chore, an unnecessary custom, and even an empty ritual...until that moment when I fully surrender to my Lord and then it is the most wonderful blessing, worth every moment of sustaining from food and an experience I cannot really relate to another who has not done it.

This morning I awoke seeing a vision of money raining down from heaven over our church and I now a certain for what I am to be praying. I am to be praying for the finances of the people currently within our church: for the jobless to be offered jobs, for those with jobs to have security, for those who are struggling to be offered the opportunity to better their situation, and for those who are prospering to prosper even more. All this I shall do, as my Lord has made it clear.

Sometimes when I feel called to fast, I am not really clear about what I am to be praying before I begin. At times, I am given that knowledge after I have begun it and even as I am ending it. At some point, there is that moment of surrender to my Lord.

This morning I have had that moment...with a promise of more to come.

~ My Lord, please hear my prayer. Bless all in my church, so that they can give generously a portion back to You. May we make all things ready for those You have prepared to come to our church, so we do not grow in numbers only but in our spiritual walk with You even more. Let it be, my Lord. ~

Fishing Rodeo at Cave Spring

The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope. ~John Buchan

My husband flew back home from Texas Friday night too late to eat out, especially since we had plans for leaving early Saturday morning for the children's fishing rodeo at Cave Spring. We have gone to this event for a few years that is always the day before Father's Day even though the Princess has yet to catch a fish there—still she loves it!

The rodeo has the younger children fish first for 45 minutes and then there is a 15 minute break before the next group. There are four groupings of ages: 3 and 4; 5 and 6; 7, 8, and 9; and 10, 11, and 12.

It sounds like a fair arrangement, but it is really sad when you see that the adults are the ones who take the fun out of it. People were advised for only one parent to be inside the roped off area for each child and they could cast out for the child, but then the child was to do the fishing, mostly. The first groups being so young, of course, have to be helped a great deal more, but when the children don't even touch the pole...? There was a five fish limit and one, obviously, well-experienced fisherman had his limit in a few minutes and left with his wife and his three or four year old, who look as clueless as to why they were leaving as to why they where there in the first place. Although the only one to snag his limit for the day, he was not the only culprit to break the rules, so most of the bigger and easier fish to catch were cleared out in the first two hours. We had a very tasty, eye-catching bait that the trout attacked well, but what was left in the third hour was small enough and my daughter a bit inexperienced enough that the fish were fed but not caught.

This year our pastor came to the event with his six-year-old grandson. His grandson caught a small fish which they threw back in. He did not catch another and was rather disappointed. Later on we met up again at the stream where we waded a bit and let the children play. Eventually, my husband and the children decided to rebuild the small dam. At some point, my daughter slipped coming down the bank and assured us she was all right even as the mud thickly covered her bottom. Not to worry, as Mama was prepared for such things with an extra set of clothes.

As things were winding down, the Princess suddenly was in tears...and we later found out she had found a snail shell, which was flipped out of her hand by the pastor's grandson, just being a typical boy. The Princess, as you may recall, has a thing for snails, since they were her first pets, but the children all thought they were just the shells. Another boy collected six shells just to give to her. When she showed them to me, I showed her that the shells were occupied by living snails that needed to be in the water to survive, so she happily put them back quickly. However, that was not the end of it.... It being that age old struggle between boys and girls just because they are of differing genders.

Clouds were rolling in and it looked as if we would get our regular scheduled afternoon rain as has been common for the last two weeks. As we called to them to come out of the water and get ready to go, the pastor's grandson and my daughter argued intensely. As we were drying them off, both were snapping at each other as if we were not there. Just when we thought we had them calmed down, one would say something and the other would go back into the argument. It was like trying to stop two cats from tearing at each other without being scratched yourself, accept it was only in words. It actually got to the point it was just funny, especially when the boy called her "Mister Nine-Year-Old" several times with that I just dare you to say something else back to me attitude. The last time our pastor said, "That's Miss Nine-Year-Old." Sarcasm always gets me and with that one I really had to hold in my laughters, as the Princes would say, and I was busy enough right then putting my hand over the Princess' mouth to stop her from saying anything back...again.

The pastor took his grandson to the car to dry off some more. After the quarrelsome duo were apart for a few minutes, we talked briefly with the Princess about how she was the older of the two, although they were nearly the same size, we suggested that she should go over to apologize, which she did and then he did as well. Today they were happy to see each other in church. Sigh...things with children are so simple!

Back to Cave Spring
Cave Spring is a very small town with a population of about a thousand people and is known for being the location of the Georgia School for the Deaf. It is just about everything I could possibly want in a small town: friendly people, a gazebo on the square, family owned and operated restaurants and other business, antique shops, a bank, a public library, churches, even two shops on the square selling fudge (with a little recent history of some rivalry), a stream of cool, clear water (when I say "cool" I actually mean brrrr!), and a park within a block of downtown. In that park is an Bed and Breakfast Inn, a swimming pool (in the shape of Georgia, no less), a pond stocked with rainbow trout that is allowed to be fished only for the annual children's rodeo, and a rather small cave that was carved out by a cold water spring.

It is this spring for which the town is named. It is cold, clear, mineral water that has been tested for its purity and it has a temperature of around 56 degrees as does the cave itself. For just one dollar, a person can tour the cave, but if you would like a drink of the cool water...that is free! In fact, people bring empty jugs to fill with it as it flows out to the pond. This spring is the town's water supply, but has to be chlorinated by law...sadly. However, residents also come to get the water as provided by nature without the chemical additive and some people claim they believe that is why they are thriving in their eighties and nineties.

Cave Spring is just a bit more than an hour from our home (in the opposite direction of all the other things we do an hour from our home, of course) and we try to go there at least once a year, but we did not make it at all last year. I love stopping by to sample fudge and, on our way out of town with a $5 budget, we stopped in choosing Amaretto Chocolate and a smaller piece of Creamsicle--both yummy!--but I was looking forward to the Key-Lime that they did not have this time. Oh, well! It was still a lovely day. I love sitting under the shade of the trees in the park and wading in the creek on a hot summer day. I love talking with the townsfolk and hearing their stories. I love going to the shops; we did not do that this trip, but there will be another. I just love Cave Spring. It seems I always leave a piece of my heart there with each visit.

~ Thank you, my Lord, for one more lovely memory for all of us. If I may ask for a special blessing for the town of Cave Spring, then I would also ask that we can visit it again soon. ~

Here Am I

If I look at all the mass, I will never act. If I look at the one, I will. ~Mother Teresa

Isn't this a serene picture of a simple life? No phones, no cars, no technology, no Internet...gasp! Just a young lady walking in an unkempt field to a small church. In my heart, I am always craving that simplicity. A part of me wants to turn away from technology, just turn it all off...but then I would have missed out on meeting some amazing people in other parts of the world and developing friendships with them. Here am I, again, recognizing that so familiar conflict within me that is unending.

No doubt some of my online friends have been wondering why I have not posted lately. It is kind of ironic that the more things I am doing about which I could write are also the things that take me away from it.

Right now, even as my fingers are typing the thoughts in my mind, I feel torn between the many, many things I want to do (including this blog)...and then there are those everyday chores that I also must do, like feeding and educating my child, vacuuming floors blanketed with the fur of shedding pets, and attending to bathrooms that need a bath, and so on. I am thankful the Princess is capable of helping so much with meal preparation and housework these days. We are still doing lessons during the summer as we are preparing for testing, but she also needs time to just play with her friends... don't I also need the same?

The things I want to do? A very, very, very looooong list. I want to do and am doing the website for our church. (Yes, even churches use this technology that both serves and enslaves us.) It was mostly talking about doing it before, toying around with how it should be done, and where it would be stored. You see, at this time our church has no budget for a website and yet a high percentage of people look online for churches, which means that a website is often the first impression they have of a church. We have a domain name and website that was done by someone who had never done one before so it has a simple but outdated appearance. I have not built an entire website since 2003 and so much has changed with technology. We have decided to use the small but free storage provided by our ISP for the front page with links to free Blogger blogs for each ministry and the pastor's newsletter blog. More on all that is to come.

I just want to say that having set up two separate Blogger accounts has been a bit more challenging for me, as I forget in which one I am logged. Also, Google, the Blogger owner and manager, seems to fight with me and its cookies when I try to log out of one and into the other. I will get use to it all in time, I suppose.

(I just realized that Blogger change the "Preview" mode. Oh, I like this one much better. You can actually see how it is laid out with the backgrounds! Very cool!)

The church website has my priority right now, so the rest of my want-to-do's are mostly on hold, but I am still around and surprisingly I am feeling rather well lately. I had been fighting varying levels of the doldrums for several months, it seems. Although I am not doing the major projects in my home, I am cutting everything in just bite-size pieces and doing things here and there. I am rather surprised that I find myself smiling when look several days later at these little touches. I now realized I had created a terrible rut for myself, not to have been doing this all along. Even while there is so much still to do, I am seeing forward momentum and it has been keeping me motivated and inspired...and happy.

~ My Lord, please bless the website project, so it has the pleasing appearance and functionality necessary to attract new members to our church. Also, keep me motivated to finish it quickly. ~

Frankenfood Fears

The industry's not stupid. The industry knows that if those foods are labeled "genetically engineered," the public will shy away and won't take them.
~Jeremy Rifkin

For over twelve years, I have been writing articles for a local newspaper published by a well known health food store in my area (and I am still surprised my writings get published). I don't write much on health topics here because I have this outlet with its deadline and editor, however there are many issues about health that are quite near and dear to my heart. This is one of them.

One of the things I have warned against is the introduction of synthesized or imitation foods that are not found in nature or those that are natural but extracted so such higher dosages, which would never be found in nature, are put into process foods. For instance, the new sweeteners often called sugar alcohols, which is a very deceiving term, that do not get absorbed well during digestion. Some are found in edible produce in nature, but these amounts are small and just one of the various ingredients making up the fruits from nature's kitchen. For some, like me, in high amounts needed to replace sugar, these sugar alcohols cause abdominal discomfort to diarrhea, sometimes just thirty minutes after ingestion. I understand many people do not have this kind of reaction, but I wonder how overloaded the digestion system is with other toxins that they would not. You see, we eat more organic and fresh foods than most people and we also detoxify using various methods on a regular basis, so I tend to see our reaction as the reaction that everyone should be having.

I believe that nature provides delicate balance in edible foods, one that we cannot imitate and remain healthy. I often feel so sorry for indoor pets who are usually fed exactly the same thing every day, infused, supposedly, with all the nutrients they would need...? Are we really so arrogant to think we could eat the same food, labeled to be nutritionally balanced, every day and not become insufficient in some nutrients? People and animals need variety!

Now we have something far more frightening on the horizon—actually it is not on the horizon, it is already in our food chain and we are the laboratory rats.

This is an article I wrote in May 2008:

The Frightening Phenomenon

While watching the movie Phenomenon some years ago, I was gripped by a tender moment when one character, George Malley, philosophically explained his impending death to two children: He took an apple and said, “...if we take a bite of it like this...it becomes part of us forever....”

The philosophy of an eaten apple becoming part of us is both wondrous and...really quite frightening! In reality, the apple will be digested, so the body will use it for fuel and to heal at the cellular level (without going into greater technicalities), and some of the less digestible parts will pass out of the body. This is the natural process of all foods we eat. The question is whether the foods work with this natural process or work against it. Let’s set aside the fact that the pesticides sprayed on the plants become a part of the apples that will become a part of us or that the artificial hydrogenation processing of natural oils creates trans fats that also become a very undesirable part of us (plague in the arteries)—there is something even scarier!

Tampering with Nature’s Blueprint
There are several impressive scientific names involved: genetically modified (GM), genetically modified organism (GMO), genetically engineered (GE), green biotechnology, agricultural biotechnology, transgenic crop plants, and—my personal favorite, although not one of the scientific names—frankenfood. I have heard about all these things for years, but it just seemed too much like science fiction than real science. However, recently I watched a documentary on how they do this slicing of DNA, and use a machine that acts like a "gene gun" to literally shoot DNA fragments into the cell nucleus. These fragments can combine with the plant's own genome with the use of “promoters” that some argue could also promote undesirable dormant genes. (This is no longer sci-fi; this is reality!)

The really disturbing part—well, there were two things, actually, that are equally disturbing! First, DNA fragment selected may not be of a similar plant or even any plant. It seems that scientists can use any DNA fragment from any source producing recombinant DNA. Think about that for a moment. Vegans could be eating plants altered with animal DNA. Those who follow religious dietary laws could be eating DNA fragments of prohibited foods. We could be eating foods that even have been altered with human DNA one day!

Second, the enthusiastic scientist interviewed on the documentary believed that she could isolate DNA fragments, add them to a plant, and get the precise results she wanted without any concerns about potential side effects in the short or long term!

Does this sound incredibly presumptuous or is it just me? If there is anything we have learned in the recent years, with FDA recalls of medications, is that long term side effects on human beings never really seem to be discovered in the confines of medical science labs; the real test for long term side effects occurs when they have been released to the general public and have been in use for at least a few years, even then specific medical problems may not be linked to the source for many more years or decades.

Science Reining Nature?
Scientists in favor of genetic engineering claim it is a “natural extension of traditional breeding,” the main difference being that it allows access to a broader range of genes even from unlike organisms to produce desirable results. The skeptics argue that extracting the specific gene is highly precise, but the insertion of the gene is uncontrolled and highly unpredictable. Should the desired result be achieved, we still don’t know what affects it will have on the animals and humans eating the foods. In addition, inserted genetic material is still subject to genetic nature, such as the natural occurring genetic drift evident in each generation that is also rather unpredictable.

You may have heard of the StarLink corn controversy eight years ago. StarLink corn was genetically engineered with a particular strain of Bt pesticide, called the Cry9C protein. It was produced and purified from a bacterial host in hopes that the corn plant would be resistant to the European corn borer, a very destructive pest. Although the FDA banned StarLink for direct human consumption, Cry9C was approved for livestock feed. However, in the year 2000, Cry9C was also found in taco shells by an independent laboratory. Although recalled, even today some measure of Cry9C is still found in corn products made for human consumption. Corn readily cross-pollinates as do some other plants. This may be why organic farmers continue to report problems with "genetic trespass" from genetically modified crops—a poignant reminder that nature will not be contained or restrained!

Going Where No Gene Slice Has Gone Before
In our enthusiasm to improve one thing “for the good of mankind,” science and technology often takes a great leap forward into a new frontier, but it often costs us in ways we cannot foresee. About 100 years ago, a seemingly innocence process for altering natural vegetable oils was thought to be harmless, but now we know that trans fats build up contributing to arterial plague and heart disease: Trans fats become part of us. People once thought that pesticides were harmless and, at first, farmers did not even wear any protective gear during application, but now we know that these chemicals cause a wide range of diseases, including cancer: Pesticides become part of us.

Presently, we are on that familiar threshold of another technology, one that we may be even more helpless to hold in check, beckoned for its promises in food production improvements. How can we possibly foresee what we are risking before transgenetic foods become a part of us?

Before it was speculation, but now there is scientific proof:
Genetically Modified Soy Linked to Sterility, Infant Mortality

Please, please, please try to buy only foods with the "No GMO" labeling.

~ My Lord, people are so amazingly skilled but sometimes we are so excited about what we can do, we forget to ask if we should do it. Please let Your Will and Truth be known in all areas of our lives. ~

Mosquito Magnet

Undoubtedly, mosquitoes have preferences. People do differ, and in any group of ten, one person will be fed on more than others. ~Jerry Butler

Mosquitoes! You can place me in a room with a hundred other people and release just one mosquito. It will most likely make a bee-line for me and bite me ten times, before it even notices there are a hundred other people in the room!

I have several reminders of this all over my legs since we began doing some serious gardening, particularly last weekend. I took no notice of the mosquitoes with my preoccupation of wrestling with some impressively invasive roots and vines that have been creeping out of the woods and claiming more of our lawn along the fence. I have no idea what the name of one of these towering weeds is but it can grow taller than I am and spread roots in all directions fifteen feet and more away but close to the surface so that they can grow more from those roots and this plant is not a vine! Fortunately, it breaks up the soil and pulls up easily, even in Georgia's clay, and that is about the only thing I can say good about it. So intend was I on removing these plants that mosquito bites happened without me noticing, until I was showering off the day's work and then the itchy bumps could not be ignored.

It is a very familiar sensation. When I was a child we lived very close to a lake. Had it not been for the blessing of winter, I don't think I would ever have enjoyed even one minute without itching. Throughout the summer my legs and arms were dotted so that no two-inch circle was without a scab. Now, yet again, it is the season for the little pests to breed and feed!

I keep hoping to see mosquitoes on the endangered species list. Would anyone mourn their possible loss? I rarely question why God made many of the creatures He did—I mean, as much as I hate to admit it even cockroaches seem to have a benefit to the ecology that I can understand, although I am sure I would not miss them either—but I just don't get the benefit of mosquitoes. Certainly fish, dragonflies, birds, and bats can find plenty of other pests to eat, I would think.

Oh, just in case you are also a mosquito magnet, as I am, the best treatment for the bites I have found is simply hydrogen peroxide. It neutralizes the itch and I have seen it do the same for allergic reactions in others. We keep ours handy in a spray bottle and rub it onto the skin. I have yet to find a repellent (that I would actually consider putting on my skin) that really works for me. Suggestions are appreciated.

~ My Lord, of all the things in Your creation, I do not understand why these little bloodsuckers were necessary, but I trust that, even if I don't understand the reason, You made them for some good purpose. All I ask is, if there are mosquitoes in heaven, that they will not be as irritating as they are here. ~

Welcome Home, Shadow

If you're alone, I'll be your shadow. If you want to cry, I'll be your shoulder. If you want a hug, I'll be your pillow. If you need to be happy, I'll be your smile. But anytime you need a friend, I'll just be me. ~Unknown

Realizing that lessons would be out of the question, her mind just could not focus, I decided to run a few errands in the afternoon and then visit a pet shop. The Princess had just enough spending money to purchase one teddy bear (long haired) hamster. I wanted to give it a few days and set some new new rules, but I felt it would be best to do something constructive with our afternoon. My only stipulation in her choice was it had to be male; too many times people have gotten females unknowing there were more on the way.

At lunch, the Princess asked the Lord to lead her to a hamster that did not look like Dan, but had the same heart. After looking over all the choices, she narrowed it down to two solid colored hamsters, one red with darker eyes and a gray with dark reddish eyes. She liked the gray at first, but then wanted the red. They were both half grown. The red did not like being held as much, but the gray, even at such a young age, would tolerate being held for a short time while he considered you. This was definitely Dan-like behavior. She again changed her mind, after watching their reactions to being held and the gray was purchased.

On the way home, we went through a list of names. Finally, I said that Shadow was a name that I always wanted to use for a pet, but I never found the right pet for it. I liked it for a gray furry pet and because a shadow is always with you. She liked that idea and so Shadow has been spending some time exploring his new home, our home. He is energetic, yet interested in people and definitely is one who does not mind being handled.

I have decided that since she is older this time around, the Princess will remove the used bedding area daily and clean his cage regularly all by herself. I also decided that she will take financial responsibility for his food, bedding, and treats. To do this, I will take her to the store to see how much everything costs and then sit with her to write out a budget. Then we will make an envelope just for the hamster's expenses and I will raise her allowance enough to cover her budget, but she will have the responsibility of purchasing the necessities for Shadow.

Oh, before I forget...I did write in my last post that the Princess loves having parties for any reason and for no reason: She wanted to have a welcome home party for Shadow.

~ Thank you, my Lord, for the sweet reminder that life, as it is, not only has its share of death, but also of birth and renewal and hope. Thank you for blessing my daughter with another good pet that she loves so much. ~

Poofy Dan, the Mystery Man

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
~From a headstone in Ireland

I don't know why all of our pets nicknames are longer than their real names, but lately that is how it has been. We have "The Tail of Destruction" which is Hanah, our German Shepherd, a retiree from the border patrol. We have "Mornin' Lovin" Muffin" for Jamie, the most demanding cat I have ever had, who likes the rough stuff. Then there is Dan....

Dan is my daughter's first real pet, if we do not count the wild snails we kept for a year and then released. The Princess had in her mind, at the time, that she would marry a man named Dan, even though we knew of no one so named then or now...thankfully. When we found our furry friend, his markings were so irregular that I thought her first choice for his name, Mr. Mystery, fit very well. She changed her mind quickly though, as children do, to just Dan, the same name of her unknown betrothed. Her father said he looked poofy. The next thing I know the nickname Poofy Dan, the Mystery Man popped into my head and stuck. I just had to get that "Mystery" in his name because it fit so well; you could not tell which end was what sometimes and I had not seen a hamster with spots on one ear before.

I was a bit concerned as the Princess was six and a half years old when we decided to get a hamster in the fall of 2007. I thought she was a bit young, especially with a cat in house. All it would take is leaving his cage door open or letting him get away from her while he was out...Jamie is always on the alert for such opportunities. However, I also thought she was more responsible than most children at that age and far more gentle, which she proved to be, so it worked out very well. She has matured with him and was even able to clean the cage herself in time.

Dan has been a wonderful pet also. A very gentle creature who only bit the Princess twice and then it was when he mistook her finger for food. The first time was within the first few weeks we adopted him. In his defense, that finger must have smelled like the yummy peach she had just ate. I thought the first bite would make her give up on him, but she realized it was not on purpose and readily forgave him. The second time this emotional process worked out much faster with less parental intervention and far less tears.

Dan was given a birthday party at the insistence of the Princess in April 2008. She knew it was not his true birthday, but we were going to have a party because...well, this child does not need to have a reason for wanting to give someone a party; she just likes to give presents and have parties and would do so every day if I would allow it. Dan, always eager to explore new places and be given extra treats, was happy, too.

Dan is the only hamster that I have ever seen spring off my lap, at least four inches out and away, with his legs out stretched, as if trying to glide down the mere three inches to the floor and once he landed he ran with that hamster waddle just as fast as he could go. I was so surprised by this unhamster-like action and I laughed so hard I could barely move fast enough to catch him.

In the last few weeks, Dan has been putting on weight, not exercising at night, and preferring to nap rather than explore in his ball. This last week, he seemed bloated and rarely was awake. At nearly three years old, Poofy Dan, the Mystery Man, is rather old for a hamster and we began preparing for what was inevitable. Although it is a hard lesson, children learn much about life and death from pets.

Yesterday, it was undeniable that Dan was in his last hours. After church, the Princess ran out of her room crying Dan was dead. I held her for a long time and my husband got Dan out of the cage thinking of preparing him for burial, but Dan woke up and moved around a bit. He was very cold and moved little, but still alive. The Princess held him for awhile, in fact, much of the day. As he drifted off and we explained he was in his last hours and he would probably stay in a deep sleep. Again later she thought he had passed, we all did, however Dan was still just barely breathing, hanging onto life by a mere thread it seemed.

I watch my daughter go through the typical gauntlet of emotions that surround the death of a loved one in such a short time span, even though the day seemed to drag. The Princess came to terms with the idea of him passing, even to the point she desired it for him, but asked to stay home instead of going to Sunday evening service. As we waited, she prepared his burial box with art work and his favorite treats, a yogurt covered blueberry, strawberry yogurt chew, and a peanut. Later she watched his body struggle for every last breath, but he was in a deep sleep and not in pain. He passed away quietly and this time we were quite sure.

Our sweet Poofy Dan, the Mystery Man was buried with other departed furry friends in our back yard. This morning the Princess remarked that she thought it was odd that she was not that sad when we buried him. I talked to her about how, when anyone is dying and has no quality of life, that it is almost a relief when he finally passes on and this is a very common and natural feeling. She has cried some this morning, missing him, but she is doing well, as long as I do not press trying to do any lessons. Actually, neither one of us is in the mood for lessons today. I suppose I will do some errands since my husband is working from home and the van is available...and just maybe stop by a pet shop to take a look at small furry creatures....

~ Thank you, my Lord, for the smallest of creatures who live such a short time, yet leave a mark on a child's heart forever. ~

What?

If there is anything we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves.
~Carl Gustav Jung

Today was just one of those days! First, I just have to say that my daughter was easy during the "why" stage. You know that time a young child asks why about everything? My daughter was inquisitive but also would accept "I will tell about that when your older" when it was appropriate. Now we are into the "what" stage.

If you are a parent, you know what the "what" stage is...or you most certainly will! It is the questioning reply to every question you ask. What? It is the word that is shot back at you when you call your child's name. What? When you are just looking at your child. What? It is the automatic, meaningless, mindless word that children say in any situation at any time and more often every situation all the time. What? Sometimes it is said drawn out: wha-at? Sometimes it is short and strong like an accented staccato note (for those who know a bit about music): WHAT! Sometimes it is a whine: what? Sometimes it is a dare with a glare: what! One little word expressed so many different ways! Obviously, by the time a child reaches that age of nine, she is highly accomplished in all the ways of saying "what", even so she will continue to practice it daily with diligence.

I also need to remind my dear readers that I have been busy for the last three weekends and the reason I have not been posting is because I am just emotionally and mentality spent. This weekend I was determined to spend some time in my herb garden in the morning before the afternoon sun hit it so today's gardening added the remaining physical aspect to my exhaustion.

This is when my child seems to get the best of me. At first, she was helpful and sweet. She, cheerfully and eagerly, cut back some plants as I asked her to do. (I so love my Princess when she is being a princess.) Then, as the sun approached bringing heat to add to my discomfort, as gardening is enjoyable but never comfortable, she began complaining and making little arguments. (She is so much like me!) Finally, I told her to put away her things, including her bike, and just go inside. She went for the bike first, touched it, and whined about it burning her.

This is the place where my patience wears thin, where my idealistic imaginings of a mother serenely playing with dirt and greenery while her daughter happily explores nature nearby is shattered by crashing reality that the child does not have that same imagery in her mind, not at all. I told her, at that point, as I wiped away droplets of hot sweat and stretching out that familiar ache in my legs and back, to just go in the house. I worked a bit longer, probably fifteen minutes, just long enough to shake off the disruptive happenings and go back into my own little happy place before I heard a light tapping on the dining room window from above. I looked up to see my daughter making some kind of motions, but because of the glare on the window I could not see what message she was signing to me, so I motioned for her to come out.

Thinking we both had cooled down, although the heat was bearing down as the shadow I treasured to protect me from the brunt of the sun dwindled noticeably with each moment, and that I could still restore some remnant of my sweet illusion, we talked a bit. With my regained patience, I calmly talked to her as a mother does with a child, who needs just a reminder of how to behave better in such situations. I listened to her verbalize her thoughts and explained how she could have done things differently, better. It started well, but about ten minutes later we were right back to that place she wanted to take me and I did not want to go. Again, complaining about her burning hot bike and, again, not putting it away as I had told her to do, I, again, told her to go back into the house.

Now I am drenched with the heat as the sunlight invades my working area. My muscles are warning me that the more I wanted to do is too much. I am disgusted with myself for how little I had done, but I realize that part of my child's problem might be that it is past lunch time. Back down I go to finish up at least this one last area. The aroma of jasmine blooming on my fence is soothing. I hear the familiar persuasions of a red shouldered hawk to his mate perched on more distant tree. Most of the weeds come up easily as this soil has been well worked over the years. This patch of my garden is looking rather tidy. Oh, that sweet scent of jasmine I love so much...tap, tap, tap.

I look up again at the dining room window wondering why the child does not just come out the door onto the deck and talk to me. I already had explained earlier that I could not see what she was signing because of the glare, yet there she is, again, making hand motions. Realizing the irony of this situation, I stand up and with that "what" shrug and mouth the word clearly. Being that she is well acquainted with the many ways to communicate "what," she could not claim misunderstanding. Still, she stays put in the dining room with a window between us while I, like a boiling tea kettle, scream "WHAT!" followed by "Come out here!" loud enough that the neighbors three houses down are then coming out. Still behind the window in the cool of the house, she makes more hand motions, as if she cannot hear me. Perhaps she could not, which would support my thoughts that it be far more logical for her to come out the door. I then quite exaggeratedly motion for her to come outside, which she finally does and what do you think the first word out of her mouth is...?

What?

My Lord, I thank you for this memory, for I know there will be a time when my daughter with have her fill of "what" in her own life and I will be giggling as I recall this day.

Finding Myself in Flatland

Sphere to Square: Now, Sir; listen to me. You are living on a Plane. What you style Flatland is the vast level surface of what I may call a fluid, on, or in, the top of which you and your countrymen move about, without rising above it or falling below it. I am not a plane Figure, but a Solid. ~Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions

I finally did it! I read this 1884 satirical novella by the English schoolmaster Edwin Abbott Abbott called Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions, a book that my aunt told me about when I lived with her...oh, I suppose it was nearly 35 years ago. She was going to college then and it was required for one of her classes. Although I had not read it, she gave me a detailed description of it so it was almost as if I had read it. Still, I have never forgotten her unique perspective on this book.

Now one might ask me why I would bother reading a book about a square, who believes the whole universe is only on his plane of two dimensions, as does everyone else in Flatland. Yes, I like books that foster deeper thinking and I like sci-fi and I like math, so this should be a book I would enjoy at some level, but I have to admit that the initial thought of actually reading about geometric figures living on a plane just sounded...boring.

Actually, it has some points that are quite entertaining, "points" being quite relative to the story actually. First, there is a strange preoccupation with symmetry in each geometric figure and sharpness of angles. Then the more sides a being had, the higher his place in society with those who were like circles (because there were no perfect circles but only polygons with so many small sides that they seem like circle) being as priests. Of course, without the ability to look from above, everyone looks like a line so one must learn to determine shapes by feeling or an elaborate way of recognizing by sight only taught to those of the right number of sides. However, the most comical part was about the women, who were only uneducated and ill-tempered lines with a sublime ability to kill anyone merely by approaching them with their needle sharpness or being walked into because they were so difficult to see being a mere dot at certain angle, suggesting it was thought up by a man with curiously disconcerting wit, if you get my point....

Then a sphere interacts by placing a part of his body in Flatland, thusly:

Our little square then is quite puzzled as to how this obviously higher being could disappear and reappear, because of some alien concept he tried to explain called "height." All the sphere had to do was rise above or below Flatland, so he could not be seen by the Flatlanders but still could be heard. Oh, and when the sphere was above Flatland, he could see everything like into houses, into safes, and even the insides of any Flatlander's body! Very weird stuff. Then imagine, if you can, the sickening feeling of being out of control and not knowing what is happening when the square is pulled up above Flatland by the sphere!

My aunt, a rather devout Christian woman, saw a correspondence in the Flatlanders' limitation of two dimensions and our limitation of three. She associated angels as beings of another dimension that we do not see, but they can easily enter our plane of existence, so to speak, and leave it as well. You will not find angels mentioned in the book itself, but the possibility of other dimensions and beings existing in them is more than suggested. I do remember how much my aunt's perspective, based on this book, shaped how I thought of angels from that time on.

~ My Lord, what a joy it is to be able to see You in everything, even what we cannot yet see. I await with anticipation to see more. ~