as a matter of fact

I feel like I need to grow white fur and sprout long ears – my continual inner monologue consisting entirely of varied mutterings concerning my lateness. Some time ago, August 18 to be exact, Mary-LUE graciously benefited me with the Nice Matters Blog Award. Apparently, I matter (I’ll make sure to let everyone in this house know that I now have justifiable cause to insist upon them paying attention to me).

Go ahead, click on the link. Find out what this is about; I’ll wait.

Okay?

Well, since being told that I matter, I have managed very few posts – let alone posts with any merit to them. Be that as it may, I will practice simple gratitude by saying, in my sincerest humble voice, “Why, thank you, Mary.”

Now, on to the business of passing this award along:

Be warned, most of my choices are having as much difficulty posting lately as I am. Though their words may be sporadic, however, they are always worth the wait.

For never failing to touch me with the gentle beauty captured through the lens, for the raw honesty of his family love, for his love of furry friends while embracing the circle of life, and for the way his comments never cease to make me feel special, I proclaim the OddMix to be very nice indeed (he even went so far as to add a wonderful photograph to a poem I posted long ago. With his permission, I will post his version at some future date).

For the love of inanity, the perspective that comes from experience, the efforts to touch the lives of others through her work (not to mention sidewalk chalk and bubbles), I must pass this award along to Mel. The birds and furry critters of her back yard menagerie join me in applauding this great honor.

For touching upon subjects both personal and global, and often controversial, while maintaining an atmosphere of acceptance to viewpoints other than her own; for welcoming new voices to regular “commentversations”, and for always forgiving me when I disappear for inordinate amounts of time, there is simply no choice other than to pass this honor along to Julie.

My last four choices are very different women, but women drawn together with the tight knit cloth of understanding. Each of these women knows what it is like to say goodbye to a child without ever getting a proper hello. For years their presence and compassion in my life has mattered even though I have yet to meet any of them face to face.

For her joy in her hard-won twins and the Norman Rockwell-esque beauty with which she paints the canvas of their daily lives, I simply must compensate one Minnesota Momma that embodies the term ‘nice’.

For the beauty captured in mother/daughter, mother/son, and wife/husband deep and intricate love, jouette takes home top honors. The niceness quotient of her optimistic intensity is beyond compare.

For the genuine compassion that somehow manages to peek through even the most scathingly witty remarks; for holding her friends in her thoughts amidst the craziness of globe-trotting, periodic single-parenting, and repeated close encounters of the MRI kind; for silver linings (presented bilingually to boot), and for the ability to look past my weaknesses (or poke fun at them – but somehow only when she knows I can handle the jest), I crown Heather with many crowns.

And finally, for the indescribable depth of passion (hidden ever so slightly by the scientific demeanor), for the slightly unexpected way her camera’s eye can catch the importance of a scene, for the mama-pride that blushes over the surface-speak about her ‘normal’ children, for the careful choice of words that manages to grasp - entirely, exactly - what my heart is often wrestling, and for holding firm to honesty in a less than honest world, my spidermama friend earns her reward.

I exhort you all; play nice!

a little bit of this…

I have been remiss in my general posting and bread baking duties. Once again, I prove ever so vividly my utter undependability (If you don’t believe me on this one, just ask my friend who emailed me over a month ago, and I have yet to send out a response even though I think about it every single day).

So, although I am not even going to attempt bread this week, I am going to try to catch up in many other small ways. First, Pam over at the MarillaAnne blog has posted the answers to two more of my interview questions. One of these postings is pretty recent, so I have an excuse for not updating about that one. The other…not so much. I also owe her a comment on one of her answers (that threatened to turn into doctoral thesis length – my comment, not her post). Have I typed even one word of it? No.

Emailing, commenting, blogging, all have fallen by the wayside in the past few days/weeks/months/years. But, if I sit here any longer ruminating upon all of this, I will merely type a post completely concerning my regrets without taking any steps to remedy them. So, the steps may be small, but I am tentatively venturing forth in the faith that any progress is better than none at all.

My good friend Spidermama has tagged me for the real moms meme. The objective is to make the statement, “Real moms ______.” The blank can comprise one word or a million. Posting a picture with the assertion is also an option. I’ll have to check around to see if I have any in my files because I STILL haven’t figured out how to work my Christmas camera. I guess that isn’t surprising since I haven’t exactly tried to do so.

Anyway, without further ado:

I sat at baseball this evening with the pink one. The blue eyed J-bird was carousing with his teammates as they awaited the arrival of enough additional players to begin the game. A seven year old boy wearing the uniform of our team slowly approached the field.

“Look mom! A beautiful chocolate boy!” the pink one exclaimed. “And there his two pretty chocolate mommies and his chocolate sister!” No, the child didn’t have two mothers, merely one mother and a teenaged sister who, I would assume, rather resembled an adult to the eyes of a three year old child. And, no, none of them were made of chocolate.

Here’s where the real mom part comes in.

Real moms don’t correct their daughters for making errors in political correctness just for the sake of political correctness. Real moms understand that a discussion on the finer points of accepted terminology would take no root in the mind of most preschoolers. Real moms find pride in the fact that their daughter, who has been exposed to people of many different ethnicities for her entire life (including in her own family), who up to this point has never given the slightest sign that she notices the differences in the color of people’s skin, chose to pull from her thoughts a connection to her most favorite thing in life – chocolate!



Real moms hope that no one would ever be offended by the innocent words of their baby, but would instead see the love in that child’s eyes.

I am betting this meme has already made the rounds of many; nevertheless, I tag Mary, Mel, and Pam

me....again?

Yes, I am at it again with the interviews. We all know it is all about me anyway, so suck it up! I know you want to pull out your Scrapbooks on the Atypical One in anxious anticipation of what will spill forth this time, so get to it, and let’s get started.

Julie of the Ravin’ Picture Maven extended her interviewing skills to any takers, and, well, her posts are always so open and thought provoking that I could not possibly resist the temptation. How silly of me to forget that I would actually have to re-assemble my brain in order to answer those questions with anything even mildly coherent. The results follow. I was certainly long-winded, but I’m not so sure about the coherent part.

In other news, Pam over at the MarillaAnne Blog answered question #4 from my interview questions to her. I recommend following all of the links. The trip may not be short, but it is worth the ride.


1. What hung on your walls as a teen, and why?

Goodness, this takes me back. In my first year of teen-dom, my sister and I shared a room. I believe there were pull out posters of Leif Garrett, Shaun Cassidy, Parker Stevenson and Scott Baio on the wall then – oh and I forgot Jimmy NcNichol. I guess I just really dated myself with that answer. In my defense, she was the older sister, so I can blame it on her.

That year, my grandparents died and we moved into their house. As a result, I had my own room for the first time. It was a pretty small room, but it was mine. I am relatively sure that the only things I had hanging on my wall at the time were a few poems and a poster of Styx from the Cornerstone album – remember albums? I think this was when I really started figuring out that many song lyrics were just poems set to music. I always had a preference for free verse, and musically speaking, I preferred lyrics which told a story and didn’t sound like forced rhyme (as a result, most of my favorite Styx songs were some of the lesser known ones). I also entered the age of liking folk around this time, so I may have had one or two Harry Chapin poems. He put out a book of song lyrics and poems entitled Looking…Seeing (very strange artwork in that book). I don’t think I had anything particularly decorative on my walls.

2. How do you make a decision? What factors weigh more for you? Do you rely more on logic, or emotion?

You really do want long answers, don’t you? This is akin to Mary’s justice/forgiveness question to you. I suppose it would be best to start off with a disclaimer. I really do not make decisions well. The flip side of my ability to often see both sides of any given situation is the inability to stop creating lists of pros and cons for each side. This is often true even for the simple things (like deciding to go out to eat. My husband and I are like the vultures from Disney’s animated Jungle Book. At all other times, he is pretty decisive).

I am an extraordinarily logical person, although my logic might sometimes be a shade on the atypical side. My brain is quite capable of taking in all of the important qualifying information, separating it into categories, and judging the potential risks and benefits associated. I rarely have any doubts about the logical side of my decision making skills, and yet…. If I make a decision based on logic alone, I never fail to feel a vague sense of everything being unsettled. I am sure to worry about every possible thing that could, and probably will go wrong.

I almost never rely on that logic when making a final decision. My emotions – guided by indefinable perceptions of the implications of decisions on those around me – demand to have their final say. I am an emotionally driven person in almost every area of my life. I simply MUST feel what I am doing, or I am unlikely to do it at all. Unfortunately, fear is a feeling, and there are times in which I make decisions by not deciding anything at all. In those instances, and in instances where I allow the logic to supersede the emotions (because I KNOW it is the right thing to do), I tend to allow the guilt voice to speak to me in the still moments for years to come. I guess this could qualify as regret – even when the results are shown to be confirmation of the original decision.

See that? I couldn’t even make a decision about how to answer this question. I was going to support it with examples and the like, but, well, then I would have to decide which ones to use. It really is amazing that any coherent posts ever come out of my brain!

3. Is your life what you thought it would be when you were 12? Either way, how do you feel about that?

Oh my goodness. Well, I must tell you, goals have never been my strong suit. I was always much more connected to the interpretation of atmosphere and the observation of things that were in the present. I have a vague recollection of thinking, while I was still young, that I would be at home with my mother forever, and taking care of her. She was a single parent to my sister and me from a very young age. I did have aspirations to become a singer when I was young, but I never had the talent to support that desire.

Now, by thirteen, I had started having much wider vision into the futurescape. Depression began to take a bigger role in my life. I am relatively certain that the goal of “starving writer” had entered my psyche by this point in time; however, part of me also assumed I was going to die relatively young. I am not at all sure that impression has changed, but my definition of “young age” has changed a lot over the years.

I did manage a few years of writing, but not professionally. I entered into an era of almost starving, but the writing dried up with the finances – possibly due to the fact that motherhood had entered the picture by then. On motherhood, I have been asked many times if I always wanted a lot of kids, and I have always answered honestly. I don’t think I ever gave it much thought. If pressed, I probably would have assumed I would have two children, most likely girls. This is because my mother and her only brother had each had two kids. My dad actually had four, but I grew up without him having much day-to-day influence on my life. I qualify it that way because his lack of presence had a lot of influence on my life, but not of the day to day variety.

As a teen, I once had someone say of me, “Whoever marries you will never be bored!” That was not necessarily a compliment. The fact is, I guess I always assumed that great passion would be a large part of whatever filled my future. In that regard, I would say my life is not the way I would have envisioned it at 12 (and I am also pleased to say that I have, indeed, become quite boring). Geez, four paragraphs have been written on this, and I haven’t even started on the second half of the question!

My emotions on the subject are like a bubbling cauldron of great contentment and vague regret. The ingredients are loathe to intermingle due to their chemical make-up, so each time I sample the steaming brew, I come away with a different taste in my mouth.

I would not trade my children for anything in the world. I appreciate my husband for his many good points (and tolerate the not so good – in part because he also tolerates mine). I have a decent life filled with the ever present joys and irritations so integral to human relations. BUT. I wonder sometimes how to reach deeper within and touch the passionate spark of essential me-ness in order to let it run free, even amid the triviality of dirty laundry and midnight cries. I ponder who I will be when the nest is someday empty, and I have very little idea.

4. If you overhear a stranger who needs help or information you could provide, are you likely or unlikely to jump in? Why or why not? Give an example.

I am an introvert. It therefore comes as a surprise to me that there are actually times that I will jump into a conversation with helpful information. If I am standing in line at the grocery store, and the cashier and patron in front of me are having a discussion about something, and neither of them knows the answer to a particular thing (“Do you know who sells kerosene?” for example), I am likely to supply the information if I am aware of it. Likewise, if I am in a group of parents at a rec sporting event and someone needs information about the way the program is run, where to find some athletic supply, or how to get to a certain field, I will pop in with the information. I must say that I tend to wait until I am sure no one else is able to supply the information first. Oh, and I always feel guilty when I do jump in. I hate to feel intrusive.

I think the reason that I am more prone to jumping in with information in these settings is that everyone is on a somewhat equal and unsure footing. If I have even the mildest tinge of doubt in my information, or if I feel that someone else there has even slightly more experience than me on the topic at hand, I am more likely to remain silent. Occasionally, I have been known to direct people to a good source of information on the topic. Now, if I am directly asked the information, it is a different story. I do not ignore direct requests.

5. What is something you wish you could do, but can't?

There are so many potential answers to this question. I wish that I could play a musical instrument. I wish that I could find my passion and be a better teacher to my children. I wish that I could master routine and exhibit a solid model of organization, cleanliness, and competence to my progeny. I wish that I could work up the courage to stand up for my own needs without feeling guilty (or becoming selfish). I wish that I could feel the same kind of rush that is obtained from a first kiss/first love/first personal accomplishment of deep merit without losing any of the stability and coziness of the familiar. I wish for many things. But, none of these truly fit the category because I could do all of those things if I simply learned to muster up a little determination. Therefore, I will simply say that I wish I could sketch artistically when all I can truthfully manage are unconvincing stick figures (they look more like noodles than sticks in my hands). Heck, I can’t even manage a straight line on my own.

Thank you, Julie, for what turned out to be some very tough questions. Thank you everyone else for wading through my literary equivalent of peacock strutting. May you each have a wonderful day. Now, where did I put those tissues?

role playing (a.k.a. i get to ask the questions)

So, in the normal manner of things for me, I granted an interview with the wonderful Pam, and my words seized up like a 1976 Ford Maverick engine with no oil. My aspirations toward deep and meaningful questions flew away on the wings of the starlings leaving me to stumble forth with my feeble attempt at intelligent discourse. Who knows, maybe the Monkeys Typing Shakespeare Syndrome will make an appearance.

So here you go, Pam. Let me know when you have the answers up on your site.

1. Biblically speaking, who are your favorite historical figures from both the Old and New Testaments and why?

2. What emotions are evoked in you by sunrises and sunsets? Are they vastly different experiences to your internal and external senses?

3. What are some methods you use to keep a little bit of Texas with you wherever you go?

4. Can you give one example of a time in your life where joy welled up so much inside of you that it had to spray out, sprinkler like, on anyone who happened to pass by?

5. On a more lighthearted note, what is your favorite traffic sign and why?

Have at it (and if you need to wait until the illness-induced brain fog abates – or, you know, for the whole Easter thing - I will certainly understand).

the insomniac tells all

That bated breath has likely turned your face all shades of purple. The interview as performed by Mary has finally arrived. You may now inhale. Good. Now exhale. Yes, yes, very good. Now get out those munchies and take the needed bathroom breaks because I don’t intend to stop along the way.

You will be stuck on a deserted island and have to pick two food items, one staple and one guilty pleasure. There is plenty of fresh water on the island already. What foods will you choose?

Now see, you have hit upon an embarrassing little secret here. I am a horribly picky eater. My husband is a picky eater, but in completely different food groups than me. Somehow, this genetically combined into a punnet square of children, 3 of whom are as picky as we are, 2 who are MUCH pickier (though I didn’t know that was possible), and 1 child who is willing to try almost anything once. That, of course, has nothing to do with what you asked.

I suppose for the staple I would have to pick N.Y. strip steak. Since this is an island, there are bound to be assorted fruits and crabs and such (see, I am well versed in Survivor 101 – Mark Burnett style). One guilty pleasure in food circles….ah. In the age before tooth sensitivity, it would have certainly been something chocolate. But alas, the effects of age are far reaching - oops, tangent again. Pepperidge Farm strawberry Verona cookies. I will be suffering Coca-Cola withdrawal, but there will be no one else there to endure the effects of my angst, so I will survive it.

Other than the Bible, what philosophy, book, idea has had the greatest affect on you?

Oh, that is indeed a difficult question. I tend to pick up little bits and pieces of things I read and drop them into my soul when they just ring true. Choosing just one from an entire lifetime of reading (which also necessitates actually remembering the sources) is going to be rough.

I would have to say that C.S. Lewis’s description of God being outside of time so that He can know quite well what our future holds - not because it is predestined, but because He sees all times at once. I believe that is in The Great Divorce.

Is it more essential to develop beliefs or gain knowledge?

You know I have taken the MBTI, and I know you have taken it. I bet you already know what my knee jerk reactionary answer will be. I will say it is more essential to develop beliefs. Those beliefs are then supported with knowledge (a la Psalm 111:10), but accepted upon faith even in the absence of true certainty. This is not to say that one should simply have beliefs in things merely to have beliefs. I can believe with all of my heart that my empty soda bottle is a submarine that will carry the rulers of the dust mite kingdom to the sunken isle of Atlantis, but that isn’t going to make it true.

In order for meaningful knowledge to come into the mind, the spirit has to have a starting point. If you went to the library to do a research paper, you wouldn’t research and write the paper without first picking a topic.

Blogging: Why do you blog and how has your perception of blogging changed (or not changed) since you began?

You’re a sneaky one, you are – working several questions into the guise of just one (on more than one occasion, I might add). Why do I blog? The answer is multifold. I had some online friends who blogged. The writer inside of me, the part of me that always needed to write, wanted to come out and play with them. That is part of the answer. But there is more depth to it than that. Following links on blogs that led to other links and other links led me sometimes to rants and outpourings of feeling that were in disagreement with my beliefs. I have no problem with that. What got to me was the fact that some of those disagreements were phrased as judgments of character. That was hard for me to take.

That was part of what worked me up to the point of being able to actually set about it - that and John Stanko – who is linked on my blog – preached one of his Purpose messages at our church, and I just felt like God was telling me that it was something I should do. I realize saying I felt like God was telling me to blog might come across as arrogant, but that is not how I mean it at all. In fact, quite the opposite is true. My faith is often a very quiet faith. Perhaps it shows to people in the real world more by my actions than my words much of the time. My very insecurity finds comfort in the anonymity of this medium. Ironically, I have never used my voice to lay down any of the thoughts which were brewing in my mind when I originally set out on this venture.

My perception of blogging has perhaps not changed so drastically. I have had online relationships with people for many years in other ways, so the community aspect of it did not take me by surprise in the least. I guess I would have to say that the things which took me the most by surprise were that I had anything to say at all, and paradoxically, that I regularly ran out of things to say. It also amazes me that anyone who didn’t already know me online actually reads my humble words (and, if they have gotten this far in this massive tome, they must actually find something enjoyable in it too)!



Name your favorites in the following categories:

Song: currently it would probably be MercyMe Undone

Movie: I have two categories in favorite movie (and usually more than one choice for each).
Favorite overall: Schindler’s List
Favorite for sheer re-watch-ability: Armageddon

TV Show: Right now? Geesh, probably Heroes (but most of my true favorites are no longer on the air)

Book: Ah, here I CANNOT pick just one. My favorites would likely be The Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Harry Potter books, A book entitled Notes to Myself by Hugh Prather, and many, many books which have touched me much more deeply than I could express. I really should have done the book meme.

Artist: I really just like what I like. I cannot say that I am well versed in art as a whole, but there are certain things which touch me. I would say Michelangelo is one artist who does that on a more consistent basis than many. I also love Norman Rockwell. I tend to be deeply touched by photography too.

How did you and your husband meet? A funny thing happened on the way to the forum….

Okay, so technically, we had sort of met before this event, but we hadn’t really talked, so we stick to this as the story of how we met. We were both working midnight shift in a fast food establishment which got robbed. We were locked into the refrigerator with all of the other on duty employees. This is how we discovered we had faith in common and began a friendship (during which we were both quite firmly attached to other people). We remained friends for about 5 years before he asked me to marry him. One would think five years would have been long enough for him to realize what he was getting himself into!

On an interesting side note, the bank I worked in got robbed the day we started premarital counseling with the pastor who was going to marry us. That’s some kind of legacy to hand down to the kidlets, don’t you think?

It has been nine years since your son died. How was atypical "before" different than atypical "now"?

Atypical was a lot more typical. The first thought in my mind when hearing a couple announce the newly discovered sex of their unborn baby was not one of fear that something would go wrong. I had a naïve belief that getting past the first trimester meant a baby would be coming home to live at the end of the journey. Although I always tried to see the deeper things in life, Caleb’s death helped me to really concentrate on not taking things for granted. This was especially true in the beginning, while the grief was still fresh. Everything fell into categories of deeper meaning or complete triviality.

My marriage improved because it was so much easier not to sweat the small stuff. My faith matured. Although I had experienced loss before, although I had felt deep connection to God before, now I knew for sure that He could carry me through even those moments in which I couldn’t muster up the will to take the next breath. He would hold my hand and lead me on the journey, no matter how long it took. He would bring people into my life who understood the truth that a lost child is still your child, even if you don’t get to raise him – who would remember the birthday of a baby that most find it easier to forget. He would cry with me, for He too lost a son.

And on that note of intermingled hope and sadness, the interview draws to a close.

The other portion of this interview compels me to extend the offer of my interview skills for your personal use. I have stated the methods in my previous interview should you care to take me up on it. If you slogged your way through this post, I offer you my heartfelt thanks (and a congratulatory muffin).

Sweet dreams.

interview with a toothless vampire

Yes, I have given in to the interview meme which is currently making the rounds of the internet. Having great curiosity about the unrevealed Oddities of the Oddmix, and interested to discover what manner of questions might burst forth from his fingers, I threw myself into the mix (oooh, I made a funny…har har). Here follow the results:

1. Have you home schooled all of your kids from the start? Yes, I have, though it was a much simpler operation when only one child was involved.

2. Did you experience resistance to the idea of homeschooling from family, friends, or your kids? Well, this is a rather loaded question. I have been doing the homeschooling thing for twelve years. This means that when I started, the whole idea of it was a lot less well known. I never encountered resistance from my mother. My father questioned the decision at first, but has since decided it is for the best. My sister was a teacher at the time (as was her husband). I believe she found the idea tasteless in some ways, but times have changed in that regard. My mother-in-law did not like it in the beginning, but since she has discovered that it is one more bragging point she can add to the “MY daughter-in-law…” list, she has been quite happy about it.

The chief arguing point from most people who have a negative comment usually concerns socialization. I tend to counter that with the argument that they get plenty of peer socialization through church and rec sports, and they are a lot less likely to develop an inability to communicate effectively with people who are outside of their peer group.

I have never met with negative feedback from my kids about being home schooled as opposed to public schooled, but they do resist in the typical way of young boys who feel that they have much better things to do with their time than to actually use it for learning something. I guess you could also count N’s initial school reaction as resistance:

Me: This is the letter ‘A’.

N: No it isn’t.

3. What did you do before you took up the mantle of Mom/Teacher/Domestic Engineer?
I guess the best answer to this would be that I tried to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. After high school, I went to a respected university for a year and a few months with a Writing Seminars major and a minor in physics. I dropped out for love and a career (ha) in midnight shift fast food management.

I later went into banking while taking college courses in accounting. I continued writing poetry in my spare time. I dropped out of college a second time when I became too pregnant to fit in those attached chair desks they have. I’ve never gone back, but occasionally think about it (though, other than a mother, I still haven’t figured out what I want to be, so I don’t know what I would concentrate on).

4. With all of those brothers, is Pink a tomboy or a girly-girl? Do you encourage or discourage her in this? The answer to the first question would be yes and yes. She, like her mother before her, is very much a tomboy, but she is also extremely aware of the power of her femininity. She is girl through and through. I encourage her to become who she is, whether that entails auto mechanics, fashion design, or rodeo clownship. I have tried very hard not to regulate toys for either sex based upon gender dynamics. As of right now, she has a desire to play rec football next year when she is old enough. All of that said, boys and girls are very different creatures, aren’t they?

5. What is a “poochie tree”? When they first sang the song, I just assumed poochies were dogs, though I can’t say I have ever seen them growing on trees. Upon questioning, however, I was informed that a poochie is a made-up lego character inhabiting the imagination of my eight year old. I wonder if their droppings are those tiny specialty lego parts.

Now, I will steal the Odd one’s twist, instead of following the traditional format of the meme. Should you wish to be interviewed, let me know; or (the twist) ask me some more questions in the comment section and I will answer them in my best imitation of a timely fashion. I will also post at least an equal number of questions to you here on my blog. Then, you can grab ‘em and run off to your own place with the answers. Just let me know when you have those answers up so I can link you (and read them, for that matter).

I have also asked Mary to interview me, so that should be popping up in the next few days.

through the years

Tagged by virtue of suggestion from Mary, I will hereby meme-ificate.

1. Go to Wikipedia and type in your Birthday Month and day only.

January 31

2. List 3 Events that occurred that day.

1606 - Gunpowder Plot: Guy Fawkes is executed for his plotting against Parliament and James I of England.
- because I love my British friends (and watching fireworks when they are far enough away that the booming doesn’t hurt, and the sparks can’t hit me).

1930 - 3M markets Scotch Tape.
- because it is just about as far as you can get from the first event (unless you want to go in for stupid puns like, “Sticking it to them.”).

2004 - Mystery Science Theater 3000 ends its run on the Sci-Fi Channel.
- because I liked MST3K when I stumbled past it, and because I am eclectic, and because most of the entries had to do with war, death, and betrayal. We’ve had enough of that going on with the kids this week. I don’t need any more.

3. List 2 important Birth days.

1543 - Tokugawa Ieyasu, Shogun of Japan (d. 1616)
- just because that is cool.

1872 - Zane Grey, American Western writer (d. 1939)
- because my wonderful grandfather (who died when I was 13) loved to read his books

4. List 1 Death.

1956 - A. A. Milne, English author (b. 1882)
- I always made up stories and voices for my stuffed friends – so it is only fitting.

5. List a Holiday or Observance. (if any)

Catholicism - Feast day of St. John Bosco, patron saint of Christian apprentices, editors, and publishers
- Well, I’m not Catholic, but sounds like a good saint to share a feast day with.

6. Tag 5 other bloggers.

I suppose I will take the easy way out here and say, "If you read this, consider yourself tagged."

deep thought

I have been thinking about a lot over the past several years of my life: stoichiometry, the exceptions to phonics rules, emerging maturity in my progeny, politics, religion, the manifestations of faith. My mind is a constant whirl of thoughts on subjects profound and inane. Even so, very rarely do my thoughts make it to print. Imagine my amazement, then, when my friend Mary graced me with a thinking blogger award.



“Eek!”

That single word very tidily sums up my initial response. So many writers who I stumble across on the internet inspire me to think. I am humbled by their talents and the depth of their thoughts. I am not of their caliber. My musings tend toward little snippets of random thought, but thoughts they are. I acknowledge that often the items which spew forth from my fingers cause me to think long and hard (other times the babble just causes me to roll my eyes in dismay, but that’s another story). Perhaps, then, I should also let myself feel comfortable in the possibility that they do the same for someone else.

This is all a very long-winded way of trying to just say, “Thank you, Mary,” but I have never been good at graciously accepting a compliment.

Part two of my “eekedness” involved choosing five bloggers who make me think (to whom I pay forward this honor). There are many out there – some I have happened upon quite by accident once or twice, and never located again. Those are obviously out of the running. I immediately eliminated anyone who (to my knowledge) recently received this honor from another source. A few of my choices are people I do not really know at all. One of them doesn’t even know I exist. That said, I will move on.

My first honoree is one who has no clue of my presence. I found his blog quite by mistake one day, but happy accident it was. Fortunately I bookmarked the blog. A few months ago, the link suddenly stopped working. How grateful I was when a recent google search yielded results. Some noteworthy stuff can be found in his attic (the resting place of some material from his old blog – before the great disappearance). Lee Kennedy of A Curate's Egg is a former chemist turned psychology student who lives in Australia. Though I am not always in agreement with his conclusions about every matter, I can honestly say that even his snippets make me think. I give him this honor knowing full well it may go no further. I have never even posted a comment on his blog. I promise to get over my paralyzing introversion long enough to at least pass a comment on to him.

My second choice is for a mom with whom I have only the most cursory of connections. I lurk on her blog regularly, and have commented once. Nonetheless, Omegamom is someone who never fails to get me thinking. There have been a few times where her holding forth on a subject has caused me to view it in a way I never had before. Some examples of this include thoughts on adoption or infertility.

The thought provoking nature of these blogs is overt. My other choices make me think in a completely different way. Most of the time, they make me think because they make me feel. Or they make me think from the simple phrasing of a sentence. The nuance is the catalyst of thought.

Heather at Many Pieces of Me is one of those thinking bloggers. Her quick wit and fine-tuned appreciation of the ironic never cease to inspire reflection. One example from January shows how a few words can say so much. Even when she is talking about the little nothings that make up day to day life Heather has a way of making me think deeply – often about the things left unsaid.

My spidery friend is someone else whose emotional writing tends to touch a space in my soul-matter. When waxing poetic about her artistic heart, or sharing the simple joy of our mutual friend’s healthy born baby, she reaches a part of me that feels more intensely and cares about things more passionately. She inspires the kind of thought that makes me know I am alive.

And then there is jouette. I believe I can blame her for the fact that I ever got into blogging in the first place. When her heart moves with thought on the precious nature of life, or she reaches into the tenderness that comprises her in order to rhapsodize about the love of her life, I am touched. That touching of the heart provokes pondering into the nature of human relationship.

So there you have it. And now all I have to do is remain strong under the pressure of this honor and post only weighty and profound essays of unquestionable merit. Does anyone know a good ghost writer?

me me me 1 - 2 - 3 and little white paw prints

So, even though Mary didn't tag me (see the crocodile tears?), I am going to grab hold of the 123 book meme too.

Directions:
1. Find the nearest book.
2. Name the book & the author.
3. Turn to page 123.
4. Go to the fifth sentence on the page. Copy out the next three sentences and post to your blog.
5. Tag three more folks.

I must tell you before I start that I (of the anal retentive nature) found these directions to be less clear than they could have been (The fifth sentence which is completely on the page? The three sentences following the fifth, or including the fifth, or the fifth AND the three following it? Now you understand why my husband should be lauded greatly for enduring me for so long).


1. found it

2. The Measure of a Man by Sidney Poitier

3. found it

4."But being Americans of the middle class or higher, the only black people they would have encountered were, for the most part, the servants in their home and at the studios - blacks who attended Miss Hepburn in whatever ways she required. And as for Mr. Tracy, he struck me as a very human guy who, if given the chance, would come down every time on the side of decency and fairness for all. Now, maybe I thought that in part because of the memorable role he played in Bad Day at Black Rock, in which he was wonderfully compassionate to a character played by a black actor named Juano Hernandez."

5. tagging Heather, the spider lady, and Jouette though none of them need feel compelled in the slightest to accept said tag.



Onward and downward:

Have you ever noticed that, even if you tightly close the bedroom door while painting a radiator cover that somehow the cat will sneak in and walk across its freshly painted surface as soon as your back is turned? Murphy's Law, however, hit a snag. The feline in question chose to dismount onto the dropcloth as opposed to leaving perfect white footprints across the newly laid floor.

the great tag-a-thon

Okay, well, we might consider that title a tad misleading since there will likely be nothing great revealed, and one can hardly consider two responses a marathon of tagging, but it's all about the hype.

less than normal

Omegamom has issued a general tag - specifically aimed at lurkers (hello, my name is t, and I am a lurk-aholic). Her challenge which can be found floating throughout the blogverse is the six weird things meme. Herein, I will attempt to label six oddities about myself not known by my general readership. This is indeed a challenge since the few souls who ponder my spoutings of nonsense already know how odd I am. Be that as it may, I will soldier forth with great courage and anticipation. If you have to hurl now, the bathroom is at the end of the hall on the left.

1. I cannot watch someone using a table saw without picturing a sharp blade slicing the skin, and feeling - in every nerve of my spinal cord - the intensely numbing pain of sharp steel. I will often shudder for some time after the thought first crosses my mind.

2. The sound of toast being buttered makes my skin crawl.

3. The minute I am told to stay still, I am afflicted by a roaming itch. It is sheer torture to avoid scratching, but if I break the vow of stillness and seek the scratch-filled gratification, I am completely unable to find the exact source of the itch.

4. I hold complete conversations in my head when someone upsets me. In these conversations, I am actually possessed of the bravery needed to express my distress. I then clearly hear their grievances (in the realms of my imagination), and the level of anger or hurt begins to abate.

5. I am prone to accidentally getting portions of my clothing stuck on doorknobs, nails, furniture corners, or other dangerous protruding objects (pencil shavings would be one example).

6. The bones of my hands and wrists are, apparently, so unusual that when I once had an x-ray of my left hand after an injury, they also x-rayed my right hand to be sure they were giving me an accurate diagnosis.

6 x 2 = 12

Not so in my universe. The other meme asks us to bid adieu to the old year by posting the first sentence from the first blog entry for each month of 2006. Since I am relatively new to this blogging business, I have less than twelve months to go upon, but I'm not going to let that stop me. I stole a variation of this one from jouette.

July: Beginnings are bad for me.
Ah, the first post ever. I do have a talent for stating the obvious.


August: So, here I sit, finally bloggable, with not one original thought in my head.
Nothing much has changed here.

September: There are times in which I am perfectly aware that my reaction to a series of circumstances is completely out of proportion to the situation at hand.
Yeah, well, we're going to pretend this one isn't still true. ;)

October: Oh the weight bearing down upon me!
And it wasn't even one of those days in which all of the children decide to climb on top of me at the same time while shouting, "Dogpile!"

November: You know those days where you find yourself rummaging through the medicine cabinet in search of just the right combination of drugs that would knock the kids out without harming them - as a preemptive measure to prevent anyone from serving time for causing vicious bodily damage?
Speaks for itself.

December: Children are strange and wonderful.
Well, duh!

It's a good thing my first blog preemptively apologized for my beginnings. First lines do not appear to be my strength.

Anyway, now it's YOUR turn. Participation is purely voluntary, but expect massive guilt trips should you choose not to comply.

in over my head

So what have I done now? I'll tell you.

My friend Mary joined in on a meme give away that she located over at Darlene's site. Being in touch with the adventurous side of my being of late (ha), I had the audacity to join the throng by being one of the first five to comment on Mary's post. Not only do I get some cool creation in the process, but I am burdened with the responsibility of offering my own wares to the first five commenters to this post.

Houston, we have a problem.

You see, I am NOT artistic. I must admit that my stick figures come really close to resembling figures made out of sticks, my photography skills have not improved since I was about 12, my painting skills are similar to those of Jackson Pollock without the talent - my splatters being more the result of tripping while carrying a paint can, and any other artistic skills being sporadic and uneven at best.

So, should you be generous enough to be one of the first five people who comment to this post, I can give you a few choices.

1. You could send me some guidelines (like preferred topic, or certain words to use), and I would craft you a homegrown mediocre poem which I could either email to you or actually pen (in my lopsided script) and send to you via snail mail.

2. I could twist together some bread ties into a convincing replica of a twisted bunch of bread ties.

3. I could attempt a photograph in which you would likely get a clear view of my finger or hair partially obscuring the lens.

4. I could get my eldest to make you something cool out of duct tape or gum wrappers.

And the only thing you have to do in order to receive this mighty gift is pay it forward. Yes indeed, you must add your link to the meme chain and offer five commenters to YOUR blog (or in your life, for those of you who are not bloggers) the gift of art, if only they pass it on.

See that, I just very expertly pushed the burden onto you. Ain't I sweet?