Random Dozen!

I know this is two posts in one day, but I've already missed several of these and I wanted to go with this one.

1. Which Wizard of Oz character are you most like?

I am most like Dorothy because I like to be the star, I love red shoes, and I know several people I'd like to drop a house on.

2. When you're deciding what you're going to wear each morning, which item do you select first? Why?

I select the under garments first because people tend to stare if you put them on last.

3. What kind of animal do you think the world could live without?

I know it's a reptile and not an animal, but I think the world could live without snakes. I know I could!

4. How many Christmas trees are in your home?

Only one at the moment. I want more than one, but I'm afraid the boys would think more trees mean more presents.

5. Would you prefer to be emotionless if it mean you didn't have to feel a heartbreak?

On one hand, heartbreak can build character. On the other hand, I think I have enough character for now.

6. Do you ever experience holiday let-down or depression?

Absolutely. Every single time I didn't measure up to the perfect holiday experience it was a let down. I finally dealt with it by killing off my inner Martha. Try it--it's very therapeutic.

7. Do you like Michael Jackson's music?

I like his "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause". That's about it.

8. Why is it that we never judge people who have their teeth fixed for cosmetic reasons, but every other cosmetic procedure has a stigma?

Perhaps because getting your teeth fixed does not enlarge them beyond what nature intended.

9. Enjoy horseback riding?

I do, but I can't speak for the horse.

10. Shoes--practical or stylish?

Oh so totally stylish, baby! I'll endure pain for pretty shoes any time!

11. What was the name of your first pet? Feel free to post a pic.

The first pet I remember us having was Chocolate, a chocolate lab. She had puppies on Thanksgiving Day. My mom was not pleased. Chocolate did not stay long at our house.

12. What percentage of your Christmas shopping is done?

I'm sorry, but I can't answer that question because it implies the use of a mathematical equation. I'm already suffering from a raging headache trying to figure out how much is 30% off of something that costs $29.99, and then calculating whether I'm actually saving money when the item was priced at $19.99 last month. I'm just stunned to realize that "X=5" does not work for every mathematical situation.

Click the link at the top if you want to see more random dozen answers!

Leggo My ... Legos?

I hope you had a fantastic Thanksgiving! Thanks to so many people who called, emailed or posted. I really appreciate your thinking of me and praying for me. We did have a wonderful holiday, and I thought I would share a few pictures.


I think I got these in opposite order, but here's some of the aftermath of the Thanksgiving meal.


And this was the big decision on which type of pie to have. My boys solved the problem by having multiple slices of every pie. I'm not sure our hosts had any food left in the house by the time we headed home.



This would be the clean up crew.



And this is the cooking crew.

I never realized before how much legos have had a part in our holiday celebrations. But as I watched the boys turn our hosts' living room into a lego factory, I realized that this has happened quite a bit through the years. Gotta love the legos.

And finally, my part of our Thanksgiving dinner. After reading this post in memory of my Mom, our hostess decided that I needed to make the mashed potatoes. Truth be told, I did learn to make mashed potatoes from my mother. However, in the past few years the only time I've made "real" mashed potatoes was at Thanksgiving and Christmas. Other than that the speed of life has demanded instant potatoes. So I felt the pressure to produce something wonderful. I was running late Thanksgiving morning and didn't have time to peel the potatoes before we left, so I ended up peeling them in the van on the way over. I had ten pounds of potatoes to peel, and it took most of the ride. And no, I did not drive while peeling! The most telling part was, while our hosts found it amusing that I'd peeled on the drive over, they were not particularly surprised. I don't even want to think about what that says about me.

Suffice it to say, the potatoes turned out perfect--creamy, lump-less perfection. Now if I'd only remember to take a picture of the finished project ... or had someone take a picture of me peeling on the go ...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is a time for family and friends. I am so thankful that I have some of both around for today. But I also have both family and friends that I can't be with today. I want you to know that I'm thinking of you, I'm thankful for each of you, and I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving as well.

My love to all.

A Vegetative State

The past couple of weeks have been a flurry of activity and emotional trauma. I dealt with it by doing hard, mind-numbing work like shampooing carpets and completely cleaning out, washing and rearranging all of my kitchen cabinets. (I'll have you know our vitamins are now alphabetized). It's been a busy fall, and I think everything finally hit me last night. I made enchiladas (using venison, mind you!) and then sat down to read a book while they were in the oven. I ended up falling asleep, but fortunately the boys know what the timer on the oven means and they rescued dinner before it burned.
I slept on the couch until a little after 8:00. When I woke up, the only thing I could contemplate was whether or not it was too early to go to bed. Since most of the enchiladas were gone, I fixed myself a sandwich and then curled up in bed to watch a movie. My husband was in the living room while I was sleeping, and then he came upstairs with me, but he was mostly reading and studying for the Wednesday night Bible study.
It occurred to me as I turned out the light that I had vegetated for the entire evening. I started to say I had lived as a carrot, but then I thought, given my hair's tendency to curl up and stick out, maybe I more resembled broccoli. As for my husband? I think he resembled a rutabaga for no other reason than the fact that I like saying rutabaga. My husband gave me the tolerant smile he usually gives when I make no sense and then kissed me good night.
I like having vegetable night. Next time I might be a cauliflower. My thought-provoking question for you is this: if you were a vegetable, which one would you be?

The Disappearing Month

You hear it all the time these days. Everywhere people are saying that they're cutting back. They're economizing. They're downsizing. We have to save every resource and make it last for just a while longer than we used to. We have to cut extras out of our lives and live more frugally. And just in case you have troubles doing that on your own, the government will help you. They will tell you where to cut back. They will tell you which natural resources you have to save, even if it means returning to the dark ages. If this health care bill passes, they will tell you which diseases are worth treating, which people are deserving of treatment, and which people we ought to let die for the good of the masses.
I think I've figured out the next place that the government is going to tell us to cut back. I've been studying this for a while, and in my professional opinion, I think that the government is going to downsize the calendar. I think we will soon hear of a bill proposing that we remove one month from the twelve we usually use in a year.
It makes perfect sense when you think about it. That's one less month that they have to send out welfare checks, social security, or make medicare, medicaid or WIC payments. That's one less month that government officials have to pay salaries to government employees. One less month they have to use in factoring vacation time and sick leave.
It would be good for us too. Just think, a thirty year mortgage (providing you're one of the few people that qualifies for one these days) would actually be paid off in twenty-seven and a half years. On a more personal front, for females that's one less month of--you know--per year. And who wouldn't be happy with that?
The only question really is, which month do we do away with? It can't be January. We need that for new year's resolutions. Plus, Martin Luther King Jr's birthday is celebrated then. We don't want to be accused of being politically incorrect. For the same reason we can't get rid of March. St. Patrick's Day. All of Chicago would be in a uproar because then they'd have no reason to dye the river green. We can't do February because that would put cupids out of work. And the card companies. We have to keep April because without Easter we'd have no reason to get dressed up in new dresses and we'd have no reason to eat tons of candy. May has to stay because of Mother's Day. And no one wants to get rid of summer months. We need September because that's when school starts, and we can't get rid of October because of the huge Halloween holiday. Naturally, we also need to hang on to December because of Christmas.
When it comes right down to it, November is the month that has to go. It's boring, it usually has bad weather. We'd probably all be better off if the calendar went right from October to December. But wait, you say? What about the holidays in November?
I'm glad you brought that up. Let's look at November's holidays, shall we? First, we have Veterans' Day. Hey, I personally appreciate the contributions of veterans as much as the next person. But let's face it. National pride and patriotism are on the way out. If we keep celebrating our war heroes, we might alienate some third world country that resents our power anyway. We don't have acts of war or terrorism anymore. We have manmade disasters. We could celebrate Disaster Control Day, but that could easily be slipped into August. There's not much happening that month anyway.
The other holiday in November would be Thanksgiving. And we don't want to remember that holiday anymore because that epitomizes our failure as a nation. We've managed to corrupt the true meaning of Easter and Christmas. We've enlarged and celebrated Halloween until it's becoming a major national holiday. But somehow we just haven't truly been able to mess up Thanksgiving.
Oh, we've tried. But gluttony and sporting events couldn't quite erase the thankfulness this holiday inspired. We tried connecting it to the biggest sales day of the year. And sure, we got some people who gave up Thanksgiving in order to sit in lines all night, waiting for stores to open at 5:00 a.m. But still we couldn't get rid of that thankfulness. It's hard to corrupt thankfulness. It's almost impossible to commercialize it. We've even had people try to distort history and take the thankfulness out completely, referring to the holiday as the day we celebrated "sticking it to the Native Americans".
The only way we're going to get rid of this holiday is to do away with November all together. I've noticed that some stores are already doing that. The first week of November I couldn't find any fall decorations to save my life. Christmas decorations were up in the store, and they were even playing Christmas music. I think removing November from the calendar would just be the official gesture to what's been going on for years.
I don't know about you, but in our house, we plan on celebrating Thanksgiving for a good many years to come. For one thing, I'm going to be grateful that God hasn't given our nation everything we actually deserve.

Strawberry Pie and Lifetime Traditions

This picture is four generations of women in my family. The lady on the left is my grandmother. The woman in the middle is my mother, holding my daughter. And I'm on the right.

Some of you may have noticed that I haven't been around for the past week. There's a reason for my absence, and the reason is this: strawberry pie.

You see, I lost my mother one week ago today. It was unexpected and overwhelming, but Mom went to be with the Lord late last week. I spent a lot of time thinking about my mom the past few days. Remembering, pondering. Mom taught me some pretty wonderful things when I was growing up. Here's just a few of the things for which I'm grateful.

Mom taught me that you do what's needed. Whatever life may hand your way, you follow through and do what needs to be done. People are counting on you.

Mom taught me that family comes first. I can't remember a time when she wasn't thinking or doing something for someone in our family. She worked hard to make sure that we were comfortable. That we had what we needed. That we were happy. Whether it was a Christmas full of traditions, or just an extra blanket on the bed at night, Mom always saw to everyone else's needs.

Mom taught me to honor my husband. For years I watched her honor and reverence the man she married, and that set the standard for the way I've tried to treat my own husband for the past twenty-three years.

Mom taught me that some events were special. Birthdays were always big at our house. For one day, the birthday girl (or boy) didn't have to do any chores. They got whatever they wanted (within reason) for their birthday supper, and they got the cake of their choice too. Even though I always seemed to ask for something difficult, like homemade chicken and dumplings, Mom came through.

Every year on the day after Thanksgiving, Mom and my sisters and I spent the day making Christmas cookies. We played Christmas music and turned out hundreds of different kinds of cookies. I still use some of her recipes, and although I don't always make the cookies the day after Thanksgiving, I always have Christmas music playing, and I always think of Mom.

My mom was a great cook. As the youngest of three girls, I didn't always get a lot of cooking time in the kitchen. We all had to help get meals on the table, but a lot of the time I was relegated to setting the table or filling the ice with glasses. Mom did teach me how to make mashed potatoes, however. To this day I take pride in creating mounds of creamy, lump-less perfection.

When Terry and I got engaged, we joked some about the fact that I didn't really know that much about cooking. But my mom was not about to let one of her daughters start her own home without being prepared. So in the six months between our engagement and our wedding, Mom taught me to cook. I made sure to ask how to make all of my favorite dishes, although they never quite turned out as good as hers did. My mom wanted my culinary education to be thorough, so she even taught me how to make pies. I spent all of one afternoon laboring over a homemade strawberry pie. I think she took as much pride in the finished product as I did.

Years later I taught my own daughter to make biscuits from scratch. (In Uganda, everything was from scratch!) Typically, it wasn't any time at all before Steph's skill surpassed my own, but I still took my own form of mother's pride every time she produced biscuits for the table.

My mom was the epitome of the perfect housekeeper and the perfect lady. I fell far short in both areas, something that amused both of us, I think. She thought my mistakes were funny--and they usually were. But even though I never quite got as good as she did, I don't think I disappointed my mother. Because her love for me wasn't based on what I was able to accomplish. Her love was based on the fact that I was her daughter. I understand this love because this is what I feel for my own daughter. Stephanie may have disappointed me a time or two, but my love for her has nothing to do with what she does. I love her because of who she is.

And that may be the best thing of all that my mother taught me.

I love you, Mom. I miss you. Thanks for being you.

Military Policy

My boys have been arguing a lot lately. I know it's not unusual for kids to argue, but their fighting has taken an unusual turn and I don't like it. It seems that nowadays, most of the arguing is done because someone "did" something to someone else. And the offended person is angry, not just because of what happened. No, they're angry because they assume that whatever happened was on purpose. They actually believe that their brother intentionally tried to hurt, annoy, anger them without a reason. Now, admittedly, sometimes that's the case. But I hate the instant conclusion that someone as close as a brother would deliberately do something mean. Sometimes things really are just an accident.
I blame all this on political correctness. I really do. See, political correctness assumes that if you do or say something politically incorrect, you did it on purpose. You're trying to hurt someone. Why would anyone want to live their lives assuming others are trying to hurt them? What's the fun of having a chip on your shoulder? I don't get it, but apparently there are so many people out there with the chip-on-the-shoulder motif that we've had to institute political correctness in order to deal with it. We've had to curtail and watch what we say and do lest we offend anyone and then the world will think we did it on purpose.
Obviously political correctness is not the perfect answer. But lately I think we're coming to see that it's actually a dangerous answer. In the first place, it seems to breed entitlement issues. If everyone thinks everyone else is out to deliberately hurt them, then they're always crying for restitution when someone says something unkind. I'm not a fan of unkindness, but hey, it happens. It's not always intentional. Move on. But instead we have people starting up lawsuits because someone said something mean to them. And then other people start lawsuits because their feelings were hurt in a much greater way than the people in the first lawsuit, so surely they should get something too. We've actually raised an entire generation (or two) to believe that people owe us something because they (in most cases) accidentally insulted us.
Political correctness is also dangerous because it smothers truth. Sometimes things need to be said. Issues need to be handled. But no one will say anything because they are afraid of, at the least, being perceived as insensitive. At the worst, they will be perceived as an ignorant lout who should pay for the "emotional damage" they inflicted on others. Now, I realize there are ignorant louts out there. There are people who are warped enough to want to inflict emotional damage. But I believe they are the exception, not the rule.
Political correctness breeds entitlement issues. It smothers truth. But we've learned in the last week that it also costs lives. The Ft. Hood killer (PC versions would say he's the "shooter" or the "alleged shooter". He killed people. Other people saw him do it. He's a killer.) is a follower of Isl*m. He spouted wild-eyed rhetoric apparently throughout his career. He gave a presentation that sympathized with suicide bombers. He encouraged the military to remove m*slims from military action in the Middle East on the basis of being conscientious objectors. He even warned that having m*slims in our military fighting m*slims would cause "adverse" events. Now there's an example of political correctness for you. Perhaps we would have listened had he actually said "we'll kill you" as opposed to hinting of adverse events. Oh, wait. He got a little more blunt than that. In his presentation praising suicide bombers he said, "we love death more than you love life." That's right. He said "we".
So if he said all these things and was open about his feelings, why was he still in the military? Worse yet, why was he a psychiatrist who was helping our military personnel? Why would we want someone like this messing around in our soldiers' minds? The answer is we wouldn't. However, no one wanted to blow the whistle on him. Why? They didn't want to get sued. They didn't want to be accused of discrimination.
We ended up with an entire group that buried their heads in the sand, lest they offend someone who wanted to kill us. This is not the brightest military policy I've ever seen. It could well be the stupidest. What other army in the world would take in people related to or close to their enemies and have them serve? Not only that, but we seem to actually try to reach out to these people and put them in positions of danger to us because we want to show how "diverse" we are. What we're actually doing is showing how stupid we are. What we actually did was allow political correctness to kill thirteen people and wound thirty others.
It's time for us all to grow up. Yes, there are people out there that actually want to hurt us. If they're spouting extremist rhetoric, take the hint and deal with it. Let's quit trying to play nice because they're not going to return the favor. There's no amount of apologies or money that will change the mind of extremists. They're out to hurt us. They're out to kill us. Let's forget trying to keep from hurting their feelings and deal with the threat.
Political correctness will never be enough to pacify them. It could well be enough to destroy us.