On Forks and Gnats

Just in case any of you ever felt sorry for yourselves with a houseful of boys or toddlers or whatever your current difficulty, take a look at these pictures at my friend Liz's blog. Her friend has four boys. The first few are not so bad, but that last one made me gasp right out loud! Show your children so they understand you are serious when you tell them not to run with a fork or scissors or knife. Bless his heart!

And then go over to MamaLaw and share your stories of horrible messes your kids have gotten into. You might win a cookie-baking kit.

And then help me figure out how to rid my house of gnats. This all started when Ben became the official botanist at his last place of employment. He had an office on the 12th floor with a great view of the Washington Monument and one entire wall was window, hence many, many plants. Seriously, it was like a jungle in there. Then a buddy brought him one little jade plant which just happened to be infested with gnats and, before long, all the plants were. Gnats lay their eggs in the soil. They bombed the room several times and it helped some, but still the pesky critters remained. Then Ben left that company and had the brilliant idea to bring all the plants home. God, help him. They aren't really noticeable until you sit down to write at the computer, or read the paper. One gnat will find your head and just hang around. We give new meaning to the biblical phrase straining at a gnat. I've become pretty good at clapping them out of midair, but once in a while I smack myself. I've actually knocked my glasses clean off my face. So what do we do? I hate the thought of spraying poisons in the house, and really like all the plants so I don't want to junk them all, but I'm beginning to think I have no choice. Any suggestions?

And please, go look at the picture of the little boy with a fork in his nose - and show your kids.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Just in case you wanted to know. . .

Still sick as a dog, but the coughing has diminished some. I'm having trouble thinking, so I'm not writing these days, but I wanted to share the following really cool kitchen hint with you. You know how you bake a pan of brownies and when you try to cut them in squares the edges get all torn up and uneven because the brownie sticks to the knife? Well if you use a plastic knife it doesn't stick. Of course, that means there's no stuff stuck on the knife that requires eating before you serve them, but if you care that your brownies are nice and neat, use a plastic knife. Now don't you feel better?

Be thankful ~

Karen

News Headlines

1. I am sick as a dog. I have had a sinus infection for almost 3 weeks now. The first antibiotic prescribed wasn't working, so today I got a different one. Why do we say "sick as a dog?"

2. Ben has taken a new job with his old company. Very long story, but to make it somewhat short, he was driving all the way to Arlington for work and was underpaid. He took a job much closer to home with a big, fat pay raise and was perfectly happy. Then someone from his old company called and almost begged him to come back, gave him yet another raise, and so now he is back to driving the dreaded DC commute. All for the promise of being a PM. You couldn't pay me enough to drive up there every day.

3. I remembered another thing that makes me cringe last night when I was reading the label on a box of Rice Dream milk substitute. It's when people use its incorrectly. Listen, if there's an apostrophe, it says it is. If you can't say it is in the sentence, don't use an apostrophe. Even if your gut tells you to. It's wrong.

Be thankful ~

Karen

The McDonald's Saga Continues

My dear Ben has the worst time with Mcdonald's employees as evidenced by the following (again true) story from last week:

He pulled up to the drive-thru ordering thingy and when the girl asked what he wanted he said, "Two cheeseburgers with pickles and ketchup only, and a small fries."

girl: That's two cheeseburgers and small fries.

Ben: Two cheeseburgers with pickles and ketchup only, and small fries.

girl: So, two cheeseburgers and small fries.

Ben: (trying to be patient) The cheeseburgers need to have pickles and ketchup only on them.

girl: (snippily) I heard what you said. Two cheeseburgers and small fries. Is that it?

At this point, Ben put the car in park right where it was and walked into the restaurant. He asked for the manager and related the previous conversation to her, which was corroborated by another employee who had heard it through the drive-thru thingy. He suggested that maybe the girl needed some customer satisfaction training. Ben stood there and got his food and paid, then walked back to his car, which was still parked at the ordering thingy. As he was driving out past the window, the girl leaned out and shouted, "Stupid *%$@#&^!" So what do you think Mr. Patience did? Yup. He parked, went back in and headed for the kitchen with smoke coming out his ears. He was stopped by a very big teenage boy who respectfully asked him not to kick the girl's &$%, so he stopped and once again asked for the manager. She came out apologizing profusely and successfully defused my irate husband. I commented that I hoped the girl got fired on the spot. Ben said he thinks she was trying to get fired, so he hoped she had to work there for 20 more years. I'm just thankful for the big teenager who kept him from going into the kitchen.

Someday I'll tell you the "no tomatoes" story.

Be thankful ~

Karen

First and foremost, my baby came home from Italy yesterday full of stories and extremely tired. She's still tired today and I guess it will take a few days to get accustomed to this time zone. I took her camera chips to Walmart to get the pics put on CDs and found that she took over 900 pictures. In 10 days. We've spent a few hours looking at them and still haven't gotten all the way through, but every picture has a story and she's telling me all of them. They saw all the usual things in Rome, climbed Mt. Vesuvius and saw the buried city of Pompeii, spent time in Sorrento, went to Capri and Naples and Florence, plus a few other smaller towns. Abbie says the highlight was seeing the prison where Paul and Peter were kept and where they wrote letters to the churches that comprise some of our Bible today. Can you imagine being in the same prison?? Makes me want to go! So next time you have a few thousand you don't know what to do with, go to Italy!





While I was sitting at Walmart waiting for CDs to be made, I saw this sign:

But not always correct spelling.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Yesterday I slammed the South pretty badly with my comment about grammar being as foreign as grits in Paris, and since I do love the South and consider myself a forgiven Yankee (born and raised in New Jersey, but when God saved me, he made me a NEW creature. Old things are passed away, behold, all things are become new. Can I get an Amen?), I thought I'd share some of why I will stay in the South.

1. Tea. Northerners just don't understand the concept of tea. When you go to a restaurant there and order tea, they bring you hot tea. If you order iced tea, they bring you cold tea with no sugar. Now come on, no sugar? That is just not human. And if you ask for sweet tea, they bring you cold tea and a few packets of sugar that will never dissolve.

2. Family. No matter where you are from or who you are friends with, you are family. You're never treated like an uncomfortable guest - you're family the first time you set foot in the door. You gather in the kitchen like family, help get dinner like family, and help with the dishes like family. Southerners are a very welcoming bunch.

3. They bless your heart. All the time. This is one of the Southern sayings I have adopted, and I've learned it can be said anytime, anywhere, in any circumstance. You can say anything you want about another person, as long as you preface it by saying bless her heart, as in "Bless her heart, she tried so hard but couldn't pass the test." I love that.

4. Friendliness. The first time I went to a store in the South (that I remember) was a 7-11 type of place in North Carolina. I paid for my purchases and turned to walk out and the cashier said, "Thank ya, honey! Come back!" I wheeled around thinking she wanted me to come back right now, but no, she meant come back soon. I've had them tell me to come back and bring my furniture. To illustrate the kind of service you might get in the North, I share this true story:

A few years ago Ben was travelling through New Jersey and stopped for coffee at a McDonald's. It was very late at night and there was no one else in the restaurant (that's using the term very loosely). He ordered a small coffee at the counter and as he was paying, this conversation took place:

Cashier: (looking down and mumbling) bag?

Ben: Excuse me?

Cashier (still looking down and still mumbling): bag?

Ben: (leaning in) Excuse me?

Cashier (looking up and shouting, enunciating each word): DO YOU WANT A BAG?

At this point Ben jumped back, snatched his coffee from the counter and said, "No thanks."

Now, lest my Northern sisters get miffed at my portrayal of Northern service, I will say that not all Yanks are crabby like that. But real, honest-to-goodness scientific studies have been done that prove the average Southern cashier is friendlier than her average Northern counterpart. Boy I am really getting myself in trouble here.

5. The Wave. Typically, people in the South will wave at you in thanks when you let them out in front of you in traffic. And typically, Northerners don't. Now I'm basing this on my experiences on New Jersey traffic circles and Tennessee roads in general. We had a guy wave so heartily at us in North Carolina one time we thought his hand would fly right off his wrist out the window. And driving down a road toward another car will almost always get you a wave, even from a person you've never met.

Now, to keep myself from getting in too much trouble, I will give a nod to the North for a few things, and they all have to do with food.

1. Pork Roll. Southerners have no idea what it is or how you eat it. And if you have never had a pork roll sandwich on a good hard roll (another Northern specialty), you haven't had breakfast. Save the grits for papering the walls, and get some pork roll. Slice it, fry it, put cheese on it and eat it on a hard roll. There's nothing better.

2. Rye Bread. Maybe it's because the Jewish population is so prevalent where I grew up, but Southerners just can't make a decent rye bread. If you ever want a real one, go to Lakewood, New Jersey and mingle with the rabbis. They'll point you in the direction of one of many good Jewish bakeries.

3. Pizza. Just so you know, Pizza Hut is not real pizza. Neither is Domino's. Or Papa John's. Real pizza has a thin, crisp crust, the sauce is not sweet, it has oregano on it, and needs no toppings. The pies are a good 20-24" in diameter and cut in 8 really big slices. Slices are to be eaten folded in half, lengthwise, and when folded as such, the point does NOT fall limply. Remember, it's a CRISP crust. Here's a hint: if the guy making it speaks English, it's not good pizza. His name must be Dominic or Luigi or Alfonso and you must communicate in one-word blips. He understands "large," "small," and maybe "pepperoni." "Here" and "to go" complete his English vocabulary. Someone else runs the register. For the best pizza you've ever had, go to Point Pleasant, New Jersey and ask someone where Vesuvio's is. Everyone knows. Just don't order tea.

Be thankful ~

Karen

At the risk of sounding like a grammar snob, I share the following:

A young lady on facebook (yes, I have a facebook. I have four teenagers who have billions of friends who all use it, and in my effort to keep up with them and just sort of be an adult presence there, I keep my own page going. And no, they don't seem to mind.) asked a question recently. "What makes you cringe?" Well. . . if I really let loose and went through all of it, I would use up all my available storage space here at Blogspot, so I'll pick the two or three things that make me cringe the most.

1. Using less when you mean fewer. Less is used for measurable quantities, as in less coffee. Fewer is used for countable objects, as in fewer coffee beans. Either way it's a tragedy. The other day I was watching TV and saw a commercial for some skin care product. The model touted that if you used X you would have "less wrinkles." I almost came out of my imperfect skin.

2. Using there's with a plural. Newscasters are the most guilty of this. And NASCAR announcers, but I have much more patience with them since they grew up in the South where grammar is as foreign as grits in Paris. Think back to the last hurricane when you were watching the Weather Channel. Didn't you hear someone say, "Bob, there's trees down everywhere!" Huh? There is trees down? Someone forgot to teach contractions in third grade.

And finally,

3. Using hone when you mean home. To hone is to sharpen or make better, as in I honed my cooking skills and my hubby got fat with all the practice. To home is to zero in on, as in Our radar helped us home in on the suspect. This is another one I hear misused by telecasters quite often.

And really finally, I'll tell you about one my grandmother remembers. She was reading an article in the paper many years ago about owls. The statement was made that "owls are wonton killers." I'll let you think about that.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Beware the Crocs!

Just in case you haven't read the headlines yet today, be sure and see this one before you head out to the mall or metro. Now, I love my Crocs as much as the next gal, but let me tell you, it isn't just these shoes. Last year we went up to DC to get Leah at the end of the CPAC at the Omni Shoreham Hotel, and were taking the metro back to Springfield. If you've ever been in the DC Metro system, you know that the longest escalator in the world is at the Woodley Park station. Seriously, this thing goes on forever. So we're coming down the escalator, I'm carrying Leah's violin and a heavy bookbag, and Leah and Abbie are carrying a huge duffle between them, and Leah's adorable soft-soled ballet flat gets caught in the teeth at the bottom and stops the whole thing. Dead. So what do we do? We start laughing. And taking pictures. Here's the shoe to prove it:

After a while we got sick of waiting for the technician to come retrieve her shoe, so Leah decided to serenade the folks who had to WALK all the way down the stupid escalator:

And then when things started getting silly, Abbie noticed that no animals were permitted in Metro trash cans. Except seeing eye dogs:

In summary then, you can see that it's very important not to wear your Crocs in Metro stations, lest you be responsible for posting pictures of trash cans on your blog for all the world to see. And remember - always jump over the teeth at the bottom.

Be thankful ~

Karen

What's Really in a Name?

I've been thinking about my kids' names lately, and though this thought is not a new one, I've been amazed at the ways they are like their namesakes, and the ways they are not.

First there was Mike, officially Michael Pearl (yes, he's a guy and his middle name is Pearl. So sue me.), named after the obvious guy who we've been friends with for many, many years. Our Mike wound up being 6'4" tall, and his namesake is 6'6". That wouldn't be a big deal, except that both Ben and I are 5'7 or less. We've been asked more than once if we are his natural parents. But as far as personalities go, they couldn't be more different, at least at first glance. The original Mike is very much the man in command, while our Mike is easy-going and just likes to be happy. But if you dig deeper, you find that like his namesake, our Mike is a born teacher. Don't get him started on any subject you don't want to hear all about, because he surely knows a lot and will inform you of that pretty quickly.

Then there's Darlin' Deb, officially Deborah Shiloh. She was named after the above-mentioned Michael's wife, and we came up with the middle name ourselves. She is very much like Debi Pearl in that she has a good deal of fire, but has always been good at controlling it and knowing when to let the sparks fly. Shiloh was a place in the Bible where the Israelites went to rest, and Deb has grown up to make herself and her new hubby a restful home.

After that we had Lovely Leah Grace. Now Leah has her share of spunk too, but she was always the quietest one of the girls, very meek and mild. Then she went to college and got involved with the College Republicans and now she's a pit bull, but that's another story for another day. And she's graceful. Sort of. At least she's graceful when she's walking on level ground and there's no rain or snow. She's been known to fall up concrete stairways at school, and keeps a perpetually sprained ankle. I feared the worst when she said she wanted to take a bike to school this year - that girl needs full body armour. Leah gets aggravated because every book she ever reads that has a character named Leah portrays the girl as weak and sickly. Go figure. We liked the name Leah because of the Leah in the Bible. Although she was not favored by Jacob, she was favored by God, in that she bore the first son (actually the first four), she bore Judah, and she was buried in the favored cave of Machpelah (with Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob), while Rachel was buried "in the way."

Then came Abigail Joy, or Abbie, as she likes to be called. I'm the only one who calls her Abigail and gets away with it. We named her after the Abigail in the Bible, because Abigail was an honorable woman and had a lot of spunk. She was no wilting wallflower, and went after what she knew was right. And Joy for obvious reasons. Now, when Abbie was a baby, she cried more than I thought was humanly possible. Seriously, if she wasn't eating or sleeping, that girl was crying. Even my mother called her Crabigail and bought her a T-shirt in Maryland with a big red crab on it that said, "I'm Crabby." But somewhere along the way, she did a complete 180. This child is the happiest person I've ever met in my life. She can find something to be happy about in the most dire circumstances. What a joy! She was very aptly named.

And finally, Elijah Matthew. When I was pregnant with Elijah, my friend Debi wrote me a letter and said she believed Elijah would be special, and that from afar, she was laying her hands on my belly by faith and praying for him to be a great man of God. What a huge responsibility, to think we have the opportunity to shape a soul for God's purpose! We chose his middle name because at the time, there was a young man who worked with Ben (named Matt) who we were trying to win to Christ. We decided on Matthew, claiming that young man for God, and it wasn't too long later that God saved him. We had the opportunity to minister to his family in a great way after that, but that's another long story.

So there you have it. I don't know why this all came out just now, but it's been on my mind today and I had to purge my files to make room for more drivel. I only have so much RAM, you know.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Random observation for the weekend:

It's been a long time since I bought a package of Pecan Sandies. They now come in several different flavors - with chocolate chips, with chocolate spread on top, and one other that I can't recall. But because I'm such a creature of habit, I bought the plain-old kind that I haven't had in a coon's age because I love them with tea in the afternoon (I'm a die-hard tea time fan) and it's getting to be the time of year when tea time becomes comforting again (fall and winter). So yesterday I opened the package at tea time and gasped. The cookies have shrunk. Drastically. Worse than a cheap T-shirt on high heat. Seriously, these things are half the size they used to be! I wonder how many other products have been downsized and we just don't notice because it happens so gradually.

And while we're talking about the sizes of things changing, am I the only one who has gained weight over the years and yet wears a smaller size than I used to? From the time I was in college until just a few years ago I wore a size 10 without fail. Now the 10's are too big and the 8's fit well. And even once in a while I wear a 6. Are the manufacturers trying to make us all feel better about our bodies? They should have left the sizes alone and let me feel like the out-of-shape exercise-slacker I am - it would have been motivating.

And speaking of motivating, I found out yesterday that my 30-year high school reunion is taking place next summer on 08-08-08. I haven't been to a reunion yet, so I'm definitely going to this one. Now there's motivation.

Be thankful ~

Karen

I am happy to report that I do not have mono. So that begs the question "what, exactly, is wrong with me??!!!" I am still very tired, weak-ish, have a sore throat and headache, and generally feel like I've been hit by a bus, to borrow one of my dear's favorite sayings. I actually entertained the extremely remote possibility of pregnancy - but only for a nanosecond. Any longer and I would have added 'faint' to my list of maladies. I've been taking vitamins like chocolate, drinking herbal teas to combat the sore throat and coughing, resting (other than beating Pete for stealing chicken bones out of the trash), and drinking lots of water (Darlin' Deb's cure-all). Maybe I need colloidal silver - that's JenIg's famous remedy fer what ails ya. So Jen, what is this stuff and what is it supposed to do for me? If it involved eating poison ivy leaves, you can forget it.

Be thankful ~

Karen

My friend, Carrie, over at Organized Chaos (don't you love that name? It's so descriptive!) is having a drawing (for which she will randomly pick a winner) for an original, done-by-her-own-very-talented-self pencil portrait of the human of your choice. Drat - I was hoping she could do Spanky, but she says only people. I wonder if it counts if the subject was like a person? Anyway, go read about her drawing and enter!

Be thankful ~

Karen

OK, so now the coughing has started, so maybe it's not mono. Unfortunately, I had already made a doctor appointment for this morning and now Ben won't let me cancel it, even though I think it's not necessary anymore. But I do still feel completely wiped out. Holding my arms over the keyboard is really a monumental task, so I won't be here long.

Be thankful ~

Karen

ps. I told you it wouldn't be long.

Mono?

Have you ever had mono before? I haven't, but I feel like what I think it would be like. I have overwhelming fatigue, to the point of having to rest after I put in a load of laundry. I get up off the couch or bed for a few minutes to do a simple chore and have to go right back to lying down. Slight sore throat and some pain between my jaw and ears, not much appetite, headache. It all started Saturday. And there is a teenage boy in our youth group who had mono a few months ago, and another one in our home school PE group who has it now. I'm giving it until tomorrow morning and if it's not better by then, I'm going to the doctor.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Yes, we are pro-life

Since we live so close to American Life League's offices here in Virginia, my daughters model for them every time they have a new T-shirt. The latest is the new shirt for Pro-life Memorial Day and you can see it here. Leah is on the main page praying, Abbie is on the "Buy the Shirt" page. The shirt itself is really neat and they're only $6.95! So go buy a shirt and wear it on October 1st.

Be thankful ~

Karen

My last post on this subject, I promse

Well, I sat down to write a post whining about how much I miss my dog, but the thoughts seem to have taken a different turn in my mind (no surprise, really). I was thinking about how many things I do during the day without thinking about them, relating to Spanky. I was sitting in a recliner yesterday and when I went to get up, I first looked down at the floor to make sure Spanky wasn't lying under my feet, which he used to do often. He was totally devoted and would follow me literally around the house. When I went to the laundry room, he went to the laundry room. When I went to the bathroom, he would lie right outside the door and wait for me to come out. I wish I were that devoted to my Master. And sometimes if he knew I was going to a certain room, he would try to walk right in front of me, always getting under my feet. I wonder if God feels like that about me when I try to get ahead of him?

I think about Spanky when I walk past the place where his food and water were kept in the kitchen, which is now empty. And I marvel at his perfect trust in me, that I would never forget to feed him. I wish I had that great a faith in my Master.

I think about Spanky every time I talk to Pete, thinking, "I'll never get to talk sweet to Spanky again." It reminds me to talk sweet to the people in my life, those I love and those I don't even know, while I have today.

I think about how a dog is such a little, unimportant thing, yet he was important enough for God Almighty to send him here to us. You see, many years ago, I desperately wanted a Yorkie, but we were a young military family and could never afford the $600 price of one. So I started praying. Yes, for a dog. I figured God said, "Ye have not because ye ask not," so I would start asking. Begging. Likely driving God crazy until He said, "OK ALREADY!" One day I got an e-mail from a breeder 3 hours from our home saying she had an 8 week old puppy that was too big to sell, couldn't be bred or shown, but was healthy and I could HAVE him if I wanted him. I called her that instant and 3 hours later we were at her house and she handed me the most precious three-pound ball of fluff I'd ever held. I've thanked God continually for 9 1/2 years for Spanky. It was no accident that he was ours - it was an answer to fervent prayer.

When Spanky became sick, it was very sudden. He went from healthy to euthanized in 18 hours. We wanted to keep him alive more than anything, yet it was best for him for us to put him to rest. It was an act of mercy. It's always been hard for me to understand mercy from God's viewpoint, but this has helped give me just a glimpse of what it means from the other side.

Spanky was worth so much more than just a companion or a pet. We have learned so much from getting him, from having him over the years, and from letting him go. What a precious gift from God.

Be thankful ~

Karen

Yesterday my family lost a faithful friend. He never failed to greet us excitedly when we came home. He followed us to many different places, always adapting readily to wherever we lived. When we lived with friends for six months, he stayed in the house we were building and waited for us to come in the mornings. Every vet or groomer that ever worked on him loved him. He was a happy, friendly little dog. The story of how we got him is long, so I'll just say that God picked him for us. He was the perfect pet.



Thank you, Spanky for so enriching our lives. You're not hurting anymore, and we have the memory of a true friend.

Be thankful ~

Karen