Tales From the Waiting Room (and other stories)

Will the Real Susan E. Please Take a Nap?

Before we get around to that, though, let me address some of the comments that some of my precious & few readers left for me:

Jen (Knitters, Knitters), Brett has been duly notified and educated about what a "porn-stasch" is. 

Yes, Pam (dear sister), I drooled all over Brett, literally--and now the world shall know why. We drove to his college campus at the end of the summer (1978), so he could start moving in (just a 2-hour drive, as my parents were still being old-fashioned and wouldn't allow me to go on a sleep-over with my boyfriend).  Unfortunately the night before I waitressed the evening shift, which lasts until 2 a.m., (typically when the male customers are such cut-ups for hitting on the female wait staff and leaving hilarious 2-cent tips), so I fell asleep on the drive down. I slumped over and landed on Brett's shoulder. He decided not to disturb my peaceful slumber, being the nice guy he is. I woke up and mopped up his saliva-soaked arm, sleepily apologizing that I didn't know I had that much spit. That seemed to amuse him.  

 I know "engaged" isn't a verb, but I panicked in the moment and wanted to sound intelligent. Brett's strong suit is math so he didn't catch it. Thanks, Cousin Luke the Grammar Nazi, (posting as "Fred"), for pointing it out though. I know it would have been impossible for you to read it and not comment, so I shall comfort you by patting your hand and saying "Their, they're, there."

..........

A couple of years ago, I obtained a gmail address. Yes, it was time to stop paying $28 per month to our internet service provider that we hadn't used for over a year (we moved) just to have their domain name on my email address. It was more of a procastination issue, really, with the added bonus of not ever having to explain again that it was "earthlink" and not "earthling."  I probably would have kept it if it really *was* earthling.  It would imply an intriguing intergalactic choice. 

However, my name was already taken. I'd be willing to make book that my maiden name would have still been available.  While it's common knowledge that I married for love, despite what those who whipped out their abacus's thought when our first-born arrived 10.5 months after the wedding, I also figured that at least my last name would never again be misspelled. 

That was a horrible error in judgement on my part. 

Nonetheless, as I signed up for gmail, I couldn't just have my name since it was already taken. Google gave me several suggestions. I wanted it to remain as simple as possible so added the number 1. Taken. Kept going up the number scale. Taken, taken, taken. Finally determined that the number 14 after my name was available. Whee! Hey, that's also how many rogues progeny we have. Serendipity, thy number is 14.

As we age, we tend to have less room in our brains for the minutae of life, such as algebra and remembering your mother's maiden name so you can access your bank account. Sure enough, I'd forget from time to time that my new email address had a number after my name, so would occasionally sign up for web accounts with just my gmail address with no number. Turns out the lady  with that email address actually existed, and for some reason didn't want to pay for my gourmet coffee. WhatEVER! So the company called me and I explained the error, then emailed Susan the First to apologize, and all was put right. She was quite nice and understanding.

Turns out other people have the same problem remembering that my email address has a number on it, and I'll get the occasional forwarding from Susan the First, saying "I think this was meant for you." And she was always right. Thankfully they were mostly emails from machine embroidery and gourmet coffee sites, and thankfully not from all those former lovers I've taken. 

A few months ago, she forwarded an email she figured was for me. It was from a dentist's office several states away, reminding Susan Easley of her upcoming appointment and complimenting me on my wise choice in in dentists. 

I thanked Susan the First for thinking of me and not wanting me to miss out on my dental appointment, and explained that the message was not for me either, but no doubt for one of the Susans 1-13.  I suggested that I call the dentist's office, schedule the appointment, then split the insurance payment while giving my address as to where the check would be sent. She said she liked how I thought. I suspect this is not the end of our erstwhile relationship and it's only a matter of time until I get another forward from her, updating me on something I should already have known. 

**********

We had guests recently, missionaries who serve in Bolivia. I mention this only because it was during their visit that I discovered Ceiling Cat. Several weeks ago, for Easter, I'd printed out several sheets of DIY Ceiling Cat and gave them to the children. Over the following weeks, I'd found the sheets in various places, usually crumpled up or colored on, and threw them out one by one. Imagine my shock when I was in our dining room, chatting with the mom of the family when something on the ceiling caught my eye. 

 

After my initial gasp and subsequent chest pains, I remembered I'd printed out Ceiling Cat. Thank you Judson, who continues to find amusing ways to shock his aging mother. After regaining the gift of speech, I asked Judson how he was able to keep it a secret for so long. He said that it didn't matter how long it took, it was worth it to see my initial reaction. 

I made this the other day. It's on the floor baseboard directly under Ceiling Cat. We'll see how long it takes Judson to notice.

Therapeutic horseback riding lessons have started up again. We've enjoyed ourselves and the children who participate have learned quite a lot. Each lesson for each child is tailored to their special need, and the volunteers and workers are quite amazing. Gideon, diagnosed with autism two months before he turned 3 years old (because he hadn't spoken a single word, not even "mama"), has now spoken consistently to his side-walker for the first time. Justen is so good with him and I've never seen anyone who can make Gideon laugh like he does. Justen imitates what Gideon does and makes him feel as if no one has ever understood him before.  Perhaps that's true. Here, Justen imitates Gideon's "noodle body" and tells him to straighten up and ride proud.  

And here he is, trotting properly on Dakota, minutes later. 

Good work, Gideon! Justen is ever-encouraging. A good match, to be sure. 

Isaiah helps break in Chance. They worked well together, and Isaiah's vision issues seemed not to matter to such a wonderful horse and instructor. Thank you, Elizabeth & Mary Jill!

He does quite well with his sidewalker and his horse, Boomer. 

By this week's lesson, he was allowed to trot off-lead. Great job!

Mercy Grace foot-reins her horse, Hope, and all is well. How could it not be, with the names Mercy Grace & Hope? She's graduated to riding on her own, and does well with all the commands to Hope. 

Susannah practices turning, and was able to ride off-lead during several trotting sessions--a huge improvement over last fall. Here, she's practicing turning on T.C. (Too Cool).

 

Abigail is off-lead more than anyone else. Hard to get a good picture of her, she likes speed. 

The rest of our summer has gone rather swimmingly so far, too.

  Have a great pre-weekend, everyone! Good wishes to all. 

 

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. 

Our Chickens Have come Home to Roost

And apparently that is all they're doing.

When one thinks of chickens, the word "industrious" doesn't automatically spring to the front lobe of the brain. But is it too much to ask that when we faithfully pour chicken feed into their feeding bin and make sure they have plenty of water, and most of them are females--that we get some eggs in return? Have I mentioned the heat lamps and light timers so that they think it's still summer? Since there are no chicken labor laws (yet) limiting their production, this has always worked in the past. 

So the other day I actually had to bu..purcha... Words cannot describe my pain as only a picture can.

 

Soon our newer chicks should be old enough to start laying, so we shall not be put in this position again. Only then will shame be erased and self-worth restored.

Nate, who is in charge of the chickens, got in an unspecified accident while doing chores the other day. After making a couple of inquiries, I suddenly remembered that trying to obtain accurate stories about injuries from boys who were horsing around makes me reach for the Advil. So instead, I decided to photo-document it as any self-respecting blogger would. Since this fortuitously happened on a Thursday morning, which is when Abigail's physical therapist comes to the house (she's also an RN), I figured we'd butterfly it and ask her opinion. 

Plus one's doggie to comfort one in time of distress doesn't hurt. Our nurse friend Jeanne pronounced the butterfly bandage well-done, and no stitches necessary. Then Nate and I discussed what was really important: What story to tell girls in the future when they asked about the scar. My suggestions ranged from shark attack to tiger brawl. Nate said "What if I just explain that I was horsing around with my brothers and got a piece of metal to the face?"

Apparently, my son never wants to date. 

But back to the weather. I got this update yesterday because I subscribed to text updates from the local station. That's right, I'm a happenin' 21st century mom. 

"Persons traveling early this morning should be prepared for icy road conditions. Black ice is nearly impossible to see. Avoid sudden turns and hard braking, and maintain a safe distance between other vehicles. In case of an accident, pull far off the roadway if possible and remain in your vehicle."

Some people never listen. 

We found this guy when we were on our way home, nearly to our driveway. By that time, the guy's buddy had been summoned and was waiting at the bottom of our drive to take him home. Mind you, when I drive the 15-passenger Eggplant, I need a certain amount of traction to make it up our icy driveway when coming in from the highway. But the buddy was parked at the end of our drive. When I slowed and motioned that I had to get in, he kept making waving motions and shouting "We're okay! He just has to get some medication for his children out of the truck."  I said "I live here, and need to get in my driveway." He finally said sorry and backed up, but by then I had a line of motorists behind me that were Not Happy at being stopped on a highway. It was a process, but I finally got backed up enough to get the traction needed to get up our award-winning driveway. 

As I later relegated the tale to our children, 15-year-old Josh said "Hah! Yeah right, had to get 'medication for his children' out before the authorities arrived." 

I hadn't thought about it like that. He's probably right, it might have indeed been -medication-, but probably not something he'd want anyone else to get dibs on. 

But enough about family problems and weather-related incidences. What really matters is that, apparently, the show Two and a Half Men has been canceled. As many times as I could say that I'd seen it coming due to the mildly-put substance abuse by the show's main character, I had hoped that those involved would continue to work around him. Apparently, this came to its inevitable end. A friend of mine--Olive's Pearls (who remains humble despite being a part of BlogHer)-- and I have been on death watch for Charlie Sheen for a few weeks now. Here was our exchange today:

Jen: "That horrific scream you just heard was Jon Cryer and Conchata acknowledging their unemployment. Hey, in an unprecedented turnabout, perhaps they should replace Sheen with Michael J. Fox. I'm pretty sure Fox could play drunk."

Me: "They could re-name it 'Spin City.'

Jen: "It's just so freakin' sad. Such a good show, and such talent all around. It hadn't even jumped the shark yet, and he has to blow it all to pieces. Carlitos, you have let me down!"

Me:  "It's not over until Conchata sings."

Jen: (about her 11 year old daughter): "It involved a long and carefully edited explanation of what Charlie Sheen's been up to, a description of the wacky truisms of Yogi Berra and a few very basic facts about opera, but it was worth it to Agatha share in the LOL." 

Me: "I am now burdened with the task of trying to make the phrase 'wacky truisms of Yogi Berra' work seamlessly into a conversation."

Jen: "We're too erudite and renaissance for own good."

-----

Since Jen's IQ is slightly (okay, a lot) more than mine, I had to stop there. Just know that I mourn the loss of this show. It got me through some difficult times in my life. As they say, "Laughter is the best medicine that won't get you taken to court after your pickup ends up in the ditch."

Safe travels, everyone. 

 

Just Like That

It's so quiet here now. We miss all of the big kids being here, and the grandchildren. What a crazy, too-short time we had with everyone! We were also blessed to have one of our DIL's parents here for a little while too. It was extra-special to see Taylor, who just returned from Afghanistan in October.  I managed to get some photos of the beautiful grandchildren (oh..and their parents).

Thanksgiving was delicious. I was banned from the kitchen. I tell myself it's because they wanted to give me a break, not because they don't like my cooking. And truthfully, I cannot cook like my children can. They watch the cooking shows and do strange things with fires, oddly-shaped tools, and spices. They pair seemingly unrelated foods together and make them taste good.

 

My sole contribution was my 7-layer salads made the day before, which were nearly forgotten in the last-minute rush to get everything on the wheelie cart and out to the table. The children had their own wing of the house. That's sparkling cider on their table, mom :)  Although in retrospect....nah.

The babies sat out with us.

Isaiah's birthday was two days after Thanksgiving this year. 

He was delighted with his toys.

A few days before his birthday, Isaiah went to one of his tri-annual appointments with his eye surgeon. For most of his life, we've dealt with his congenital cataracts, laser surgeries, and all-day patching. We've dutifully gone to the appointments and listened to what the next step would be, and prepared ourselves for it.  

This time, the doctor said that his eyes were fine. No more surgery, ever. No more patching, ever. No more bifocals, except maybe in his 60's. 

They're fine.

Just like that.

The house is quiet, the grandchildren are gone.

Isaiah's eyes are fine.

Just like that. 

A Rude Awakening

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http://talesfromthewaitingroom.typepad.com/

Since daddy's out of town, the appliances are once again operating on the same wave-length. While there is usually a sort of détente between appliances and vehicles, these barriers come down to unite against a common enemy when they sense Brett has left the hemisphere.    

Shortly after he jetted off, I was nervous with anticipation. I should make book on this, except there are too many variables. Less than 24 hours later I was rewarded with the brakes going out on the Suburban, while I was driving 5 children to horseback riding lessons. I knew enough to take it slow and pump the brake pedal all the way home, and by the time I turned into the driveway I had to stand up on the brake pedal to get the vehicle to stop. But we made it. Parked the suburban, turned my attention to the heir apparent for the next 9 days--the 15 passenger Eggplant. The next morning, Josh noticed a pool of water under the front of it. Sure, the water pump had recently gone out, but Brett had fixed it before he left. Perhaps this was residual.  I decided to ignore it if and until any future issues presented themselves. So far, so good. 

I looked forward to sleeping in for a little while Saturday morning--not for too long, but just a little while. Christina was taking the 5 older children to Bible Quiz, which lasted until it was time to go to the Fall Fest at church last night. So we just met them all there. However, the best laid plans and all, as they say.

"To sleep, perchance to be awakened." 

Sometime shortly after 5 a.m. an unfamiliar alarm went off. Not *my* alarm, because even with a cobweb of sleep enveloping me, I know how to turn that off. "Malfunctioning smoke alarm" was my next thought. I'm not sure why my first thought is always that the smoke alarms are malfunctioning when they go off, and that there isn't really a fire. I'm either an optimist or a fool. Feel free to vote in the comments section. 

The sound was cricket-like elusive. I unplugged every appliance in the bathroom, and then started going through drawers. Progress! A drawer I opened made the sound unbearably louder. Brett's travel drawer. Ahh, he was with me even when gone. I opted not to get lost in the romance of it, but instead tore through the drawer, opening business class travel kit after business class travel kit. The children love these so we don't throw them out. They contain cute little toothpaste tubes and various tiny sundries that make going to camp or a night at a friend's more fun. 

Finally! I had the culprit in my hand. It appeared to be a large black button with no discernible means of turning it off, and it was apparently at the end of its useful battery-life. However, it was not going to peacefully shuffle off this mortal coil, nor go quietly into that dark night. I stomped on it. Pieces flew. Each piece mocked me, making a continually louder noise as I exposed the insides. Another instrument of destruction is what was needed here. Ah...my old nemesis, the bathroom scale. 

It exploded and silenced the device once and for all. I knew that scale would be good for something, someday. I left the carnage on the floor, noting that I still had another 2.5 hours to sleep, so back to a warm, comfortable bed it was. Instead of sleep, however, the unbidded thought popped into my head: "I don't read to the children often enough. I should start another series, like we used to do. I used to be a better mother."  That got me thinking about different literature, and a saying from Charlotte Brontë came to mind:  "A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow."  

Grabbed my laptop to see if I could lull myself to sleep by reading political websites. Finally decided to forget it, and got up. There's a certain peacefulness that exists when I am up and no one else is. I don't experience it often enough, thankfully.

Time, then, for photos of the destroyed alarm. Some good shall rise out of the ashes of insomnia.

After the photo, I threw away the offending pieces in three different trash cans, lest the parts find each other and reassemble back into a working alarm. I'm not an evolutionist, but I do think that in this instance the laws of physics would be suspended, order would arise from disorder, and Roboclock would once again be a functional unit if left to its own devices in a single trash can. 

Speaking of Bible Quiz (weren't we?), we received our buzzer pads this week. At the competition, it's all about who jumps first. Like a game show. So they sit on the pads and the machine determines who jumps first. We were thrilled to get our practice units, and the kids wanted to try them out.

We had a guest this past week, a son of friends of ours. He's on the far left. He's also Josh, so I was relegated to middle names or last names all week. I noticed it made Guest Josh nervous to have me yell out his full name (which includes two middle names). So we went with first and last names. We were sorry to see him leave yesterday, he was an entertaining guest. The boys enjoyed having help with the chores. 

Last night was the Fall Fest. Josh manned one of the games.

Gideon loved picking out prizes.

As did Isaiah.

Susannah helped me a lot at my booth, and then was released to go play for awhile. Her favorite game was the basketball hoop thing. She tried hard and finally got one in. 

Christina found a baby to hold.

On the way out, they all had to do the bouncy castle one more time.

They ended up using the extra "fall back" hour last night coming down off their sugar high. 

Today we have friends coming over for lunch after church, and we're going to practice photography, using our children as the guinea pigs. One of the ladies got some new lights and is anxious to try them out. We'll do so in the makeshift studio I have in the basement.

It appears I have to postpone my breakdown once again. It was all scheduled for the summer of 2025, but I think I'll still be busy. 

Dropping Temps & All Hallow's Eve

For a family that doesn't formally celebrate Halloween, we seem to get our share of the All Hallow's Eve that trickles in through different channels. Nathanael carved a jack-o-lantern, that used to be a lovely unblemished pumpkin, which would have looked nice on my porch. Perhaps with a stalk of corn behind it. 

For some people, that's not good enough. Poor Jack, both crying and puking. As if one isn't bad enough.

I guess the top of his head is off, too. And he appears to have two mouths. 

So that means autumn is officially here. It's been mostly mild, so imagine my shock when I was driving the kids to their horseback riding lessons the other night, and saw this displayed on the bank's time & temperature sign. Although it had been cooling off, I knew they weren't dressed warmly enough for *this.*

Imagine my relief when I saw that it was a programming mistake.

But more about the riding lessons later. Some of our other children have been accepted into the program, which means more photos for you!

Last Saturday, Brett practiced shooting with the children who have passed their hunting certification class.

Nate sighted down his prey with a .22...

Which was unfortunately, inedible.

Judson's .22 firepower required hearing protection, however.

As did Josh's, with his .40

Mercy shows us how to cover your ears when you don't have hands.

Abigail figured things out for herself and was an amazing shot.

 

She had the targets swinging. For size comparison, the smallest target is the size of a quarter. Five yards away. 

And, put to rest that day were several bales of hay. RIP.

 

For Brett, the day was filled with teaching his children safety and control. For the children, they learned to wait patiently for their turn. For me, the day represented freedom, with a small break for photo-taking and delivering lunch. WORTH IT, all around.

Back to the riding lessons. Susannah qualified because of her IEP through the schools. They are working with her on an individual basis and have different things they do for someone with behavioral issues as opposed to physical issues. When I see them doing lessons with her, I am reminded all over again how they tailor the lessons to each individual child, and also ensure they work well in the group. When I wrote down all the issues that Susannah had and why she was getting special services at the school despite her intelligence, the woman who ran the program knew me well enough by then (because of working with my older girls and their physical disabilities) and put a hand on my arm and said "We can help her." It was all I could do not to sob, so I just said "That would be nice."

Anyway, she is quite happy and when she tries to demand things of her handlers, I am impressed with how easily and quietly they tell her no in a very nice sort of way. Here, they distract her with "picture exchange" in which she decides that the card they gave her goes in a pattern, to make a whole picture.

 If she gets it right, she gets to trot on her horse (which she loves). 

She got it right.

Sorry for the blur, but...the horse was trotting in very low light, and I didn't bring my tripod. 

Oh and the picture she had to complete in the right order?  Yes, another reminder of the Eve of the Hallows. Hey, maybe she'll be an orthopedist.

And then, they all had to learn to work together as a group. Yes, this group belongs to me. Isaiah was accepted into the program because of his ongoing vision problems (born with cataracts, several surgeries). Gideon, because at age 3, the dr. wanted to give him an autism spectrum diagnosis and send him for testing, but I knew my boys (him being the 7th birth boy) and knew that his non-speech was due to just not having anything to object to instead of not being able to. Sure enough, a few months later, he began speaking in sentences, never having made the transition from one word to two, etc. Even now, he won't speak to people he doesn't know. Only recently, much to the delight of his Sunday School teacher, did he start speaking to her. 

 

So while it's a little bit sobering to think that five of the 8 children still at home qualify for special services, I get beyond that quickly and am simply grateful that there are those who donate their time and abilities on behalf of special children everywhere. It's difficult work,pays little, but gives huge dividends to those who stick with it.

At least, I'm told.

Have a great weekend, everyone, and....Happy Halloween. 

Riding, Playing, & a Non-Sequitor Retrospective

Is it really Thursday? I think I've finally recovered from my weekend! Last night was crazy hat night at AWANA, and I made the mistake of letting Josh pick out a "crazy hat" for me. I wore a bike helmet the whole night, and as one of the leaders, I didn't even get AWANA bucks for it. 

Saturday was the MQHYA (Missouri Quarter Horse Youth Assoc.) show. 

Here's Mercy, warming up for the barrel race on "Snuggles". As you can see, she's not entirely thrilled having a handler lead her, as she is used to riding by herself. But, them's the rules. There were just too many children and too many people there that day. Her class lessons on Thursdays give her lots more freedom. 

Abigail gets her turn as well, on her favorite horse Dolly.

The girls watch the other competitors...

Plenty of games for the other (non-participating) kids, to keep them occupied during all the excitement of watching children endlessly parade around the arena (yeah...it's the kind of thing that only parents love!).

Judson ropes a dangerous bale that is sporting fake horns.

Gideon and Isaiah get in on the "orb-roping" action, but get their toys twisted up. 

Wow, look at that group of participants! What a great day.

Abigail and Mercy got a plaque for barrel racing, and three ribbons: for participating in the trail ride, the general ride, and all-around...participation. They're quite pleased, and begged daddy to hang them up in their room as soon as they got home. Caveat from mom: I had to get a picture first. Mercy's lips aren't really blue...well, they are here, but it was from the blueberry kool-aid. Not normally though.

Sunday brought us to our piano teacher's church. We've tried to plan this event for some time, and it finally worked out.  The children played piano, and Susannah sang. 

What a sweet church, and everyone was so nice!

Beautiful inside and out!

Mercy played "Funeral March of the Marionettes" 

 

Susannah sings "Jacob's Ladder." She really belts it out at home, but still gets nervous in front of crowds. Can't blame her, my mind goes completely blank in front of a crowd! As the song goes on, she is more sure of herself. 

  Abigail played "Blessed Assurance"

 

Yeah, I don't expect you to watch everyone's. But as their mom, I think they all play beautifully! So this is mainly for my benefit (and extended family members if they so choose). 

Josh plays "The Wandering Musician" and "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross"

 

 Well, I can't get youtube to upload any more right now. Well I *can* but the upload time keeps saying "153 minutes left" so I'll upload the rest another day. 

There was a "Carry-in Supper" after the service. We brought deviled quail eggs. They're tiny, delicious, and draw attention to us ;)  A little boy once asked me at another carrry-in, "Are your chickens sick?"  

There was so much good food there!  By "good" I mean, "no canned fruit floating in gelatin."  Oh, but it really was good. Loosely quoting Dolly Parton from Steel Magnolias "There's nothing better than fried chicken made by good Christian women." I think that was Steel Magnolias anyway.

 And now, The Retrospective (queue reverb):

Now that I'm a grandmother and have been a mother for even longer, I look back at some of the things I put my own parents through. I've apologized for most of them I think, but I remembered something this morning that I feel needs to be addressed. In high school I had a serious boyfriend, and a friend whose cat had just delivered quadruplets. One of the kittens was a Calico and I love (even to this day) calico cats. 

I wanted a kitten SO badly but I knew my mom wouldn't allow another cat in the house. So I decided to ask her a hypothetical question--"What if someone told you were going to be a grandma?"  I made it clear that it was just a simple question that meant nothing, but for some reason she freaked out. I found myself in the unexpected (yes, I was that naive) position of having to reassure her several times that she was NOT going to become a grandmother "per se."  That did not seem to soothe her. When I finally mentioned the kitten, she was so relieved that she said yes. The kitten, which happened to be in my pocket for some odd reason, was then introduced to her catmother. But my mom drew the line at being called anything but "mom" by anyone else. 

Shasta the cat went with me when I married and she lived a good life. But I'm quite sure it took a few years off my own mother's life. Sorry, mom!

Have a great weekend, all!

 

Man Sale

Though we were supposed to welcome daddy back home today, an earthquake in New Zealand prevented flights getting out. We're certainly thankful that at least as far as they know, no one has died but there's been lots of damage. So we'll focus on that instead of being too disappointed. Hopefully daddy will be home tomorrow. 

Oh, and the fact that the house behaved itself this week! So far! True, the guest house tried to get in on the action, setting off its fire alarm at 2:30 a.m. the first night Brett was gone. So the alarm company called. While it's never fun to get a middle-of-the-night phonecall, my first conscious thought was that it must be the airlines calling, and not with good news. After realizing that there was no other option but to go check out the guest house (before they dispatched the fire department), I thought "If there really is someone there, I'll take Josh with me." Though Josh is 15, he's nearly 6 ft. tall and could wield a baseball bat if necessary. At least he could be intimidating. Or if there really was a fire, no need to actually enter the place, just go back and tell the alarm company to go ahead and send the fire department.

Then I remembered.  Josh was at a loosely-named "sleepover" at a friend's house. I could've just woken up all the other kids and made the perp run screaming in terror at the sheer number, but instead I opted to take my Corin, my Great Pyrenees, who would certainly do all he could. Maybe herd the perp into a corner while I cited scripture, or wise words from Mother Teresa until I found my cell phone. Oh, here's my fearsome boy, in a photo from last winter.  

Turns out it was the average yearly glitch, upon which the guest house, feeling neglected, wants in on a little action. Perhaps it heard through the Druid Network that being on fire gets one some attention and a shower. 

Oh and Josh returned the next morning, in time for chores. He claimed to have only slept a half hour and played Catan or video games the rest of the night, and that he was able to "handle it" without needing sleep. But right after lunch...

Noah arrived yesterday, for a long weekend visit. He brought gifts for everyone.

Gideon's always pleased whenever someone remembers he's a leap frog (born on Leap Day).

Noah has always loved to cook, but doesn't get to at the assisted living place he resides at. So I make the most of it while he's here for holidays or long weekends. Fruit salad and pizza last night.

Scrambled quail eggs with onion and mushrooms this morning.

The girls had a great 2nd lesson at NTRC. Abigail rode Sheena, who had a twinkle in her eye and was more up to Abbi's speed. Abbi was able to control her very well. 

Mercy had Boomer, who often didn't feel like walking at all, so took a bit of coaxing. 

I'll leave you with a sign of the times. I don't know what it means. I merely give the message, I leave the interpretation to others. It did make me smile, which is really all that matters. Also that I finally have a title for my post today.

Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone!

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!

Back to Abnormal

As always, click on pictures to embiggenate. 

We had some friends drive over yesterday, and some hatched. Here's a combination of the two. Maddie holds the as-yet-unnamed quail chick. 

 
 Maddie's little sisters couldn't resist our now-ungelatinous pool, and soon others joined in. 

Emma wasn't too sure at first and stuck close to the side, not sure if she had enough flotation devices. 

 Abby, though younger, seemed more adventurous.

 After morning farm chores were finished, our children were unable to resist the siren call of the cool, non-green water.

 

  

The house has been restored to a semblance of order. It sensed Brett's presence almost immediately, and tried to pretend like nothing had happened. Unfortunately it hadn't counted on the fact that after 30+ years of marriage, Brett now believes me more than he does an "inanimate" object. And the House knows it.

You might recall a post of mine, shortly after we moved here. I was trying to make sense of all the unusual signage and odd statuettes in this area of the country. I especially found the pig sign advertising breakfast, lunch and dinner amusing. Seems they've now eliminated breakfast, but no sense in making a whole new sign, I always say.

 

Another sign that never fails to amuse me. Apparently Dennis didn't like it when he moved to town and the population sign wasn't updated quickly enough.

Last week a benevolent friend of mine took my two remaining children (while the others were on the mission trip) to a VBS during the day, so that was nice! Thanks Denise, they had a great time. As did I :)

 

 

Boy, the kids will be disappointed when summer's over!