Tales From the Waiting Room (and other stories)

Along for the Ride

For those reading on Facebook notes, it's easier to read on my "real" blog: http://talesfromthewaitingroom.typepad.com/

Not sure why Facebook wants each post all to itself, but one learns to accept things in life. 

While on a family shopping trip the other day we came across this. I thought "Finally, my turn!" 

Brett was uncooperative.

Bathroom break before leaving the store. Abigail and Mercy were offended. 

 Some new babies here on the farm:

Little Girl Donklet, March 12, here she is about 2 hours old. As yet un-named. Do not judge me. 

New Kids on the Block:

We bottle-feed them so we can milk the mommies and make cheese. We also sell the milk, but we end up using a lot of it ourselves. 

With a discussion about "When the weather warms up enough, these babies will be old enough to go back up to the barn."  Gideon asked what we would keep in our garage then?  

I'm stumped. 

Everyone's going through a trial of one sort of another, suffice it to say we are as well. I'd like to say, perhaps more than our share, but that's not really true. It just seems like it at times. 

So I will show you some things around the home that make me smile. Not in any particular date order:

Our dear friends Cathy and Minda Cox came to visit us to hear a motivational speaker with cerebral palsy. It was an encouraging evening and David Ring has a unique story that is fascinating to hear. Minda was adopted as a young child, from India. 

Our son Noah was able to attend as well. Noah has arthrogryposis and came from Russia at the age of 6.

After hearing David Ring speak, Noah said he liked hearing that the only thing holding you back from your goals is yourself. 

The last snow day where the schools were closed. That does not seem to affect the children's ability to find the joy in each flake. This is their form of snow-skiing. More like water-skiing, except without the water. Well I suppose it is a form of water. Frozen water skiing. 

A mug I found and though it amused me, knew it had to go to my dad for his birthday. Josh made the cookies.  I was lucky enough to rescue two of them to wrap up before they disappeared. 

Also; a mug my dear sister gave me, knowing that I love anything that is grammatically incorrect, yet set in stone--as opposed to my children's schoolwork, which must be erased and corrected forthwith.

Coffee The?  The simplicity contrasted with the audacity of this mug makes me smile at least once a day. The spoon handily slips into a hole in the handle. Really, why can't we grasp this concept here in the states? Though I take my coffee scalding hot and black as the ace of spades, I still like the concept of having a spoon at the ready.

I'm not sure why. Perhaps I like the idea of being able to change my mind if I wake up one day and want to try sweetener in my coffee. I've heard things like that can happen if you have a head injury. I'd like to be prepared, is all.

Walks with our homeschool group, on the rare (for now) nice day. There is something soothing about a walk with children and dogs around a lake that brings peace to one's soul. 

The new season start-up of NTRC's lessons. Susannah can't participate again until after her appointment with the orthopedic surgeon (scoliosis issues plus a couple other questions that need answers, but we hope to have her join in again, come August). Left to right: Gideon, Isaiah, Abigail, Mercy.

Josh's team (Believers) winning 3rd place in Regional Bible Quiz. Onward and Upward to Nationals, at the end of April! Josh is on the bottom right. It's extremely competitive.

The celebration dinner. It had been a very long day. I don't know if it's more exhausting to watch the quizzers or to be one. The opinions differ, based on if one was a quizzer or an observer. 

I've missed posting about two birthdays, so let's bring on the cakes. Susannah turned 12.

Why shouldn't our furred friends enjoy the festivities as well? Dundee loves a good slice of pepperoni.

Gideon had an un-birthday on February 28.

Yeah, un-birthday. Because he was born on February 29, so we make do on the off years. It doesn't seem to bother him.

And the seemingly-insignificant thing when it is compared to other things? That thing that happens--the thing that others find hard to understand so you just don't say anything because it seems petty in light of not only the world's suffering but the needs we have and see all around us every day. The thing that makes us feel silly because we feel we're taking it out of proportion. 

This last picture taken of my cat, Powder. Powder, who slept all day, preferably on or near something warm. Flu season was Powder's favorite, because he could then curl up on the current feverish person and soothe them with his presence. He was an Everyone's Cat.

Most every morning when we woke Isaiah, Powder would be sleeping next to him on his top bunk. Isaiah, at times, can feel left out. He's not one of the big boys, nor is he the baby of the family. His congenital cataracts have caused or exacerbated learning disabilities, including his ability to read. After surgery and corrective lenses and patching for years, Isaiah's eyes are fine now, but he still works hard at catching up to read. Did Powder know that Isaiah needed a special friend? 

Powder came to us in an unusual way. He was in a litter of one of our barn cats and the vet thought the pure white kitten might be albino, so said he should never be outside and we could sell him for a lot if we wanted to. Powder oranged up a bit on his tips (thus earning him the nickname "Rusty"), so turned out not to be a true albino but by then had worked himself into our home and lives and he would never, could never, be a barn cat. 

One morning in January, we let Powder outside as usual. The next day Powder was not in Isaiah's bed. Or the next. 

Powder never came back. We can only assume it was a coyote. We searched the highways, we placed ads. Powder was microchipped so if anyone had found him, he could have been traced right to us. We know he won't be back. 

Then my friend Jen of Knitters-Knitters daughter Agatha had to go and make a drawing of Powder and send it to me. It was immediately framed and placed in a prominent location. Thank you again, Agatha. 

 

Have a good weekend, all. 

Residential Flatwork

Yeah I know. The Golden Globe Awards just gained national, if not international attention and acclaim. But Hollywood is fickle, and fame is fleeting. What matters most in this sad old world of ours  is that our driveway has won its first award. This is actually the first driveway we've ever had that has won an award. To be completely honest, I didn't realize this was a possibility. 

I asked our driveway what it thought about the honor. It was too verklempt to speak for quite some time, but I finally got him to say a few words, which he wanted to convey to you here, since the permanence of his residency ironically makes road travel impossible.

"I'd like to first of all thank The Concrete Promotional Group, a heretofore relatively unknown organization, without whom this honor would not have been possible. Second, the Easleys themselves, who have provided me with a strong foundation since my youth. They poured their heart and money into my very existence, and made sure I was never spoiled by my fame, yet used daily for the purpose for which I was made. The solid groundwork upon which I was laid is a testimony to their commitment--nay, their sincere dedication--that driveways everywhere should be treated with respect, whether they be a few feet long or half a mile, such as I am. But I am not here to brag, because I cannot take credit (and neither would the company that formed me) because all that I am brings me to the events of today, and has further cemented my belief that justice truly does exist in this world, and if you just lay there every day and let people walk all over you, you too may be the recipient of this award. But I wouldn't seal my pores."

He said it all, really. I remain humbled and we will try not allow this to go to our heads. I'm not saying it will be easy. The award sets next to my high school arm-wrestling championship trophy and the children's Grand Prix awards. The Golden Spoon awards (spray painted wooden spoons) stand triumphantly behind them, earned by the children for creating delicious desserts. 

Let's get back to what was really important about today though. The snow started to melt and was at that perfect temperature for making snow folk. Also, it was Martin Luther King Jr. day, and homeschoolers know that there's never really such a thing as a day off. So the snow-folk were allowed after morning chores were done. 

Abigail and Mercy were annoyed at Isaiah's decision to put arms on the snowperson.

Susannah soon tired of rolling snow, and wanted to know if this looked like a realistic enough head to put on a snow-woman. Sure Susannah, it looks totally normal. Especially on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. At least the snowwoman should have been dyed black. We could have named her Rosa. 

Josh wasn't content with a mere snowman. So here is his snow throne. The children took turns being a royal something-or-other.

Finally Josh got a chance to relax on his throne.

Judson finished his featureless snowperson.

Nate used a little more artwork in his creation.

After a brief date with hot chocolate....

It was then time for school. Who better to learn about today, than the holiday bearing the name of who was being celebrated?

 ]

It took a couple hours, but they all finished their sheets, and a Q&A afterward. Good thing they (mostly) paid attention to their lessons! They were then released to play for the rest of their....holiday.

Apparently there may be another "snow day" tomorrow, as freezing ice is predicted for tonight. It matters not that much to us, but it somehow all seems more festive when the world decrees that it is too dangerous to venture out. 

Good thing I went to the grocery store today. 

 

Food, and other Delicacies

Just because you haven't seen me doesn't mean I haven't been here. Well not *here* exactly, but here as in...not gone. 

Good thing I don't write song lyrics for a living. 

A week ago Saturday the girls were signed up for an old-fashioned children's tea. This was for girls ages 7-12 and as I only have two that still fall into that category, they were the lucky ones. The turnout was wonderful, and this was the first time that the organization (Jesse James Museum and Farm) had done a children's tea. We learned so many things! Here are the girls starting out, playing tic-tac-toe.

It ended in a tie.

But what a cute game nonetheless!

Mercy tries her foot at spinning the top.

Then the ring toss...

Making rag dollies!

Playing pass the bean bag:

My personal favorite part of the day: A reading from "Little Women." 

Susannah read the part of Beth...

And Mercy wanted to narrate.

And perhaps the funniest, yet sweetest part of the day was the actual tea. First, the children read the rules of conduct.

Rules of conduct...are you listening, children? It even came with a detailed drawing of a table full of incredibly rude people that none of us should ever emulate. 

See? They're all numbered, lest you should wonder which faux pas they are committing, simply look to the sheet. The most amusing thing is that the only "rude" thing the woman is doing, is bringing a hungry  baby to the table. I don't know how to discipline a baby out of being hungry...

And the rest of the table are rude gents indeed, not helping the lady at all, but sure, the dog gets fed. 

Once we knew what was expected of us, we were allowed to proceed to the tea table.

I know, right?

The girls were soon done, then it was time for more crafts. 

 Then over to the schoolhouse, for a quick lesson on what it meant to go to school if you'd lived in 1889.

Ahhh, penmanship. I remember thee well. 

We were treated to Home, Home on the Range as we sang along.

Was life really simpler then?  I think, in some ways it was. 

Or perhaps, simply more charming.

And yet, I'm glad I'm sitting in air conditioning, able to blog about this. I suppose each age carries its own charm that is not quite recognized as it's happening. 

But on to the modern day! The jr. and sr. high at our church had a "food fight kick-off" for the beginning of the year. My children were especially excited, as they have never been allowed to throw food at someone before. Not that they haven't done so (I'm not quite that ignorant) but here it was actually  encouraged. Thank you to Denise who took photos of the evening. 

While talking to my children about it later, they were nearly certain that the event drew in teens from the area that they had never seen before. 

 

 Although I'm left wondering, how can they be sure?

They were sorta clean by the time they got home.

But I still felt the need to wash their clothes. Although of course my children are always thankful for everything I've done for them (*cough*) it's been awhile since I actually heard them thank me for letting them attend and meet some new people. 

Perhaps the past week has me waxing nostalgic about a lot of things. Knowing Brett and Josh were soon to be leaving for Haiti to help with the mechanics of the well-digging equipment (of which Haiti,  unfortunately remains in much the same condition as shortly after the earthquake), I declared that last Friday would be Huge Lunch Day. 

The chickens were put in the roaster. It's pure torture, smelling them cook and knowing it's at least another hour until lunchtime. 

My mashed potatoes. YES I leave the skin on. It's more nutritious that way, is what I tell myself. 

The toppings. Country gravy (as opposed to that nasty City gravy) and sour cream:

It was, of course, not complete without banana pudding. The decision to make this particular dessert was weighed heavily and discussed intensely. Then we discovered we had bananas, pudding mix, and milk. The decision practically made itself. 

 

The pudding and mashed potatoes were both made with our goat's milk. Thank you to Oreo, Pygmy goata, and Horned White Goat (okay, we don't always get around to naming all of them). 

Have a good week, all!

It's Reining, it's Poring

Reining:

 

Mercy waits not-so-patiently for her turn. Thank you, Dolly (the horse) for being so responsive to my girlies!

Finally!
  

Thank you to Northland Therapuetic Riding Center for the lessons, which will now take place on Thursday evenings. Ever since we've moved here we've tried to find a place that would take the girls for lessons. When we lived down south, no one questioned it, we paid for lessons and the girls did great. Who knew that not having arms would prove such a liability?  Now, after trying to pay for lessons numerous times with many places over the course of nearly two years, we find this place less than a half hour from our home, and it's no cost! And they were fantastic with the girls. 

Poring:

 

Yep, school's started up here again. You can practically feel the air crackling with excitement just by looking at them!

We opted for public school for Susannah this year, which started last week. So far, so good, she's aced her math and Language tests (the only ones she's taken so far) and our dear piano teacher (and voice for Susannah) has moved her extremely busy schedule around a bit to accommodate all of us on Thursdays.  So here's "first day of school" for Susannah:

 

I must say, signing her up for both breakfast and lunch program was a very good idea. She has to be at the bus stop (end of our driveway) at 7:05 and most mornings it's all I can do to make sure her clothes are on right (I promise, I do buy her socks in pairs that match. But inevitably one goes to live with Jesus at some point during the wash/dry cycle. I've learned to buy either tights or white socks only) and her hair is looking good. I wouldn't want to get up any earlier!  It all works out. We wait with her till the bus comes (we have a long driveway, and don't want her standing out there by herself). 

But...The House is confused. It's been breaking all week long, *while* Brett is here and able to be on location when the workmen arrive. I have a pathological ...not fear, exactly, but let us say, intense dislike of, having workmen in my home when Brett's not here. It's not a safety issue, it's that they want to explain things to me. They want to tell me why a certain appliance is not working, how it's my fault (therefore voiding any warranty, implied or implicit) and explaining to me the intricate workings of something that I don't care about and never will. They then want me to sign papers absolving them and their kin of all blame. 

They do not do this when Brett is here. Here's the electrician yesterday, installing some sort of electric thing (I assume) while Brett looks on.

And today, the Bug Man Cometh. 

Unfortunately, Brett was at an eye dr. appt when Bug Man came. So I was presented with paperwork that confused me. In the comment section, it said "Food left out in kitchen, trash in kitchen, did utmost to minimize insect control." 

I had the courage to ask exactly what food was "left out" in the kitchen. He said there was a partial cake in a box. Oh, that would be the leftover cake from Judson's birthday yesterday. 

Created by my dear friend Donna, the cake was a huge success and I resent the implication that it could possibly be the cause of a plague.

 

 And his answer to "trash in the kitchen" was, "Well, you have a waste can in the kitchen."

However true this may be, I'm left with wondering who does *not* have a waste can in their kitchen? And if we didn't, wouldn't this invite more insects?  I told Bug Guy that I wasn't going to pay extra just for being alive. He finally admitted that the cost was the same, he just "likes" to fill in the comment section. 

I think he missed his calling in life. Maybe he should just author a boring blog that only a few people (hi mom!) read. 

But back to Judson's birthday. This, he declared, was THE only gift he wanted for his birthday. Besides the summer camp we'd sent him too, of course. But that was way back in July, for pete's sake. Of course, this particular gift was not available in the United States. I don't know why. I think just because, that's how it goes with us. 

So it didn't arrive until today, because we had to order it from overseas. I ask you! 

But tomorrow's Friday, for really real. I quake with fear at what The House has in store for me when Brett leaves again. We'll be fine though, so have a great weekend!