tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16447318704633303672024-02-19T07:20:27.604-08:00ghetto housewifePhvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.comBlogger146125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-21306370769911552632010-05-22T04:53:00.001-07:002010-05-22T04:53:55.912-07:00The Writing Quandary<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I am in a quandary about how to help my children learn to write.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I often read things that have been written by fellow Americans and I think gosh, they let this person out of high school? No, they let this person out of college. With an advanced degree. Ouch.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">To be honest, I want to teach my children to write better than that. I am not necessarily concerned with all the formalities of our language- passive tense, comma usage, etc- but I do want my children to be able to communicate their thoughts clearly and effectively.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">We have spent time studying the masters- like Charles Dickens and Shel Silverstein. And I would like to add Charlotte Bronte, James Fenimore Cooper, Mark Twain, and so forth to that list.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">But this is where the quandary comes in... Americans don’t talk or write like that anymore. Seriously. Would Ben Franklin be published today? I doubt it. Certainly not Hermann Melville (and we can all breathe a sigh of relief about that). And should the children decide to go to college, they’ll need to be able to write like a modern American. Oh, does that mean texting? Nevermind.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I don’t know. Maybe I’ll buy a curriculum.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-4877684334266856772010-04-09T16:10:00.000-07:002010-04-09T16:11:27.522-07:00The Golden Compass, A Sour Book Review<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The controversy about this book should have been why the publishers gave the manuscript a second glance, and why, oh why? do so many people love it. It is imaginative. That is the only positive thing I can say about it. The problems are numerous, but I want to focus on just a few, and only addressing the first book of the series:</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The 'Golden Compass' itself: This is a deux ex machina that saved the author from really having to think through intriguing resolutions. Don't know what to do? Let's look at my Magic 8-ball and I'll get the right answer. Good grief; could we have added a bit of tension to that particular plot line?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The subtle racism and sexism: I would guess that Philip Pullman deliberately chose a female main character to avoid the charge of sexism. She is, however, female in word only, and is very much portrayed as a tomboy. Great. I love tomboys. I was a tomboy. But... the only other major female character is a power-hungry sadist. All the rest are portrayed as cooks or nurses. We even have a scene where the women request to be taken along on the war expedition and the men say no, we don’t need you. And at the end... the power-hungry female is left crying over her lover while he marches on to his great destiny, promising to forget her if she doesn't come with him. Good grief, again.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I would also guess that Philip Pullman made the ‘gyptian’ people an integral part of the story to convince himself that he is not racist. However, while the ‘gyptian’ people are portrayed positively, all the other foreigners come with a tinge of inferiority. Asiatics, Tartars, Africs- nothing directly stated, just always implied. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande; min-height: 13.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px Lucida Grande"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">And, finally, and most importantly, the utter lack of depth. To anything. The story is shallow. (Please? More alternate universe stuff? That was great and original... 50 years ago.) The characters are not gripping. The conversations are often painful to read. And the adventures? Yawn.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-2436182413890513242010-03-04T05:40:00.000-08:002010-03-04T05:41:02.469-08:00This is Motherhood<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Last Autumn, India and I worked on swinging. Feet in, body forward, ok... feet forward, body back... now.... ok, again... patience, patience, patience...</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Progress, but not yet mastery.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Yesterday morning we walked to the playground, and she hopped on a swing and began pumping away, swinging smoothly into the air and quickly gaining altitude.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">“Good job, India!” I shouted excitedly.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">“I taught her that at Grandma’s house,” Malachi stated. <i>You did not,</i> I thought with self-righteous indignation. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">“You did not!” India shouted with self-righteous indignation. “I figured it out by myself,” she ended triumphantly.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-19342389111730209472010-02-13T10:39:00.000-08:002010-02-13T10:45:05.707-08:00Germany vs. Homeschoolers<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Germany is arresting homeschoolers, and the European Union is encouraging them.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Germany states that its recent history of a splinter group taking over and persecuting minorities makes them uncomfortable with any group that deviates from the norm.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So they’ll just persecute the minorities (homeschoolers, in this case) before a splinter group has the chance.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">But here’s something even more interesting: in defense of Germany’s actions, the European Council on Human Rights (or something like that) states that the purpose of school is to integrate individuals into society, and so homeschooling is wrong.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Oh, ok. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Wait... WHAT? </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">School is about social integration? I’m sorry, last I checked school was about education.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Well, it could be argued that social integration is a vital aspect of education.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Have these people never read <i>Lord of the Flies</i>? Or maybe they didn’t attend school themselves, and so are unclear about the exact nature of the ‘social integration’ that is learned in a typical school setting. But I don’t need to go down that road. America has a decent number of homeschool graduates at this point, and for the most part, they are integrating just fine into society. Oh, yea, sure- a few have embarrassed the rest of us by becoming doctors, lawyers, and politicians, but most of them are pretty ordinary, law-abiding, tax-paying citizens, who have Facebook accounts, listen to pop music, and even buy Disney products occasionally. They know about the theory of evolution and use birth control, too. In fact, I would guess that the public schools produce a much higher ratio of ‘social outcasts’ (whatever that means) and welfare dependents than homeschooling families do. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So, if the European Union is not interested in the facts of the situation, then what <i>are</i> they interested in? Could it be at all possible that ONCE AGAIN the White Western World is assuming that its ideology is superior to anyone else’s, and therefore anyone who deviates from that ideology (in this case, How Modern Schooling is the Best Choice for Educating Your Children) needs to be eradicated or at least reformed? Is it at all possible that hundreds of years of conquering and subjugating people that are different than they are is still the accepted norm, even though they try hard to deny it? Is it just part of human DNA that different = bad? <b>And hey, I like Europe; I like Europeans;</b> but you gotta admit they have a nasty addiction to tyranny & oppression.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’m not usually ‘rah rah’ American, but in this case, I’m glad for that independent streak that made us sit up and say ‘We don’t need the European tyranny’. And I’m glad that we’re opening our doors and letting German homeschoolers into our country as political refugees. Hopefully, this is one area where we won’t follow Europe’s lead, but will continue standing up for the rights of individuals who have decided to live differently.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-54473675800203623322010-02-11T16:11:00.000-08:002010-02-11T16:41:58.109-08:00The Obligatory Yes-we’re-back-and-yes-we-had-a-great-time-and-yes-we’re-exhausted Blog Update<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Yup, we went to the tropics for two weeks in the midst of this miserable St. Louis winter. Yup, it was awesome. Paradise, to be exact. Sunshine everyday. Air conditioning only occasionally. Green, green, green. Except where it was blue (at the beach, mostly).</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">We stayed half the time in a little fishing village on the southern (Caribbean) coast of Puerto Rico. My favorite bit was walking everyday to the tiny supermercado to pick up a loaf of bread or a jar of peanut butter. We were also able to take some boat rides into the sea- one during the day to see the little islands that dot the horizon, and one at night to see the Bioluminescent Bay. Actually, now that I think about it, I think my favorite bit was the chickens roaming freely about the town. Everyone apparently has a bunch of chickens and nobody bothers to keep them cooped up (ha ha), and nobody also seems to mind the sound of roosters. In another small town we stayed near, peacocks lived on the roof of an abandoned house and would casually stroll across the road, stopping traffic on a whim.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I love not-quite-third-world countries.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">A trip to Puerto Rico is not complete without driving in circles at least one time through a rambling small town that uses alleys for thoroughfares but has a brand new baseball stadium (at least they have their priorities straight). We never did manage to find the highway connection, so we took the extremely scenic view to the ocean, driving in circles through a couple more small towns on the way. Just for the fun of it.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Oh, wait, perhaps my favorite bit was passing by the smashingly blue, big, beautiful, Spanish-style house that had cows living in the front yard. I love these people.</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The next few days we spent in the rainforest, near that town where the peacocks lived. The house we rented was rather disappointing (seriously, people, no oven!?) but the rainforest is always intriguing, and we found a pretty stream where the children could swim. They now thoroughly understand the saying about ‘swimming upstream’. It was hilarious to see them swim with all their might and get exactly nowhere. When they weren’t futilely trying to defeat the current they were futilely trying to catch the large fish that lived in the swimming hole. It was a stunningly beautiful location, in the middle of the rainforest, with enormous boulders and tall peaks surrounding us. The water was also FRIGID so David and I mostly sat on the boulders and watched our children enjoying the pleasures of a mountain stream.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">AND despite the numerous twisty, turny, one lane with cars coming at us anyway, people walking on the shoulder and peacocks on the other side, sheer-drop-off type of roads I managed to never hyperventilate and only once had to ask David to turn around. Woo hoo for progress on managing my phobia!! (Praise God from whom all blessings flow...)</span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">For the last portion of our vacation we moved again- to the heart of Old San Juan, an ancient city with lots of history and lots more parties. Seriously, again, people. I mean, I understand your need to party. But under MY window? At two a.m.? Singing songs and laughing hysterically? Don’t you know that my kids wake up at 6:30? The neighbors partied, and I had the hangover. David bought earplugs. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">And then we walked and walked and walked. The kids definitely didn’t care for this portion of our journey, especially since we had swum every day, at least once a day, until transferring to Old San Juan. We toured a castle that is about 500 years old (San Cristobal), toured the governor’s mansion that also has parts that are 500 years old and is the oldest continuously-used executive mansion in the world (complete with dungeon), shopped and shopped some more, and ate at a bakery that was more than 100 years old. But the food was fresh and OH SO YUMMY. I wanted to see the house that was built for Ponce de Leon (guess what? It’s about 500 years old, too) but it was apparently being worked on (can’t imagine why).</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Of course, we take the kids half-way across the hemisphere to this city dripping with antiquities and their favorite bit is feeding the pigeons in the park. Typical. </span></p> <p style="text-align: center;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; min-height: 14px; "><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">And my favorite bit- at least of Old San Juan? The colors. I love a culture that has no restraint in painting their buildings whatever color they feel like. Teal, pink, deep green, blue, red, orange and more orange. I never knew what color combinations might pop out in front of me when I turned a corner. Vibrant!</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoadnJK8D4H4P_6tCQr4AAUCIED3E0B2Y-0Zu6i0X7i-3x6g1jgi1dSZ-L2NSc_kg4GKqQLCd1CSXi2fUfKoJ3bbSV2ychb2NFs-5kVY77DA5iCega4vfakgxZUh6rRP96P-jJfrdDVFmE/s400/yauco+pr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437149939623540866" /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So, well, I have a lot more to say (not that I usually have a shortage of verbosity) but this is plenty to start with... and I will post pictures soon!</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-82538595906514543482010-01-21T05:22:00.000-08:002010-01-21T07:04:44.755-08:00They Taught This in Schools<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I am reading an anthology of early science fiction- Asimov, Clark, and the guys that went before them, as far back as the 30’s and 40’s. While the stories themselves are alright, I have been horrified at the blatant and accepted racism that punctuates the works. Africans, along with all darker-skinned people, are portrayed as <i>obviously </i>less-evolved (evolution also plays a huge role in these early sci-fi stories)- oh, the casual statements are only made here and there, asides, nothing constant or overwhelming- but enough to get the picture across, very clearly. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Reading these have, firstly, been rather annoying (the plots now, 70 years later, are so cliched that it is laughable- though I recognize that these are the writers who pioneered the cliches and made them popular, and at the time they were wildly creative- still, how many times can I read about the superiority of future man and the oddness of Martian creatures?) anyway, it’s been rather annoying, but also sobering, because this is part of the history of racism:</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">First, under the ethics of Conquering Lesser People and Enslaving Them, some preachers claimed the Bible encouraged this behavior. The people listened, and didn’t bother to do the read the Bible themselves, or perhaps they would have noticed things like this: http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah%2058:5-7&version=NIV - and so the conquering and enslaving continued. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Then, when science began to rule the day, some scientists taught that evolution was evidence that darker-skinned people weren’t quite human, and therefore it was perfectly acceptable to kill, rape and enslave. Of course, there was no scientific evidence that lighter-skinned people were more evolved, but nonetheless the people listened, didn’t bother to do the research themselves, and so killing, raping, and enslaving continued. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Then, of course, textbooks followed suit. The court case that brought evolution into the limelight was revolved around a science textbook (Civic Biology) that taught an evolutionary theory of humans, and the Christians went nuts. As far as I know, no one- on either side of the case- bothered to mention that the textbook taught an evolutionary theory of humans <i>which included the ‘fact’ that dark-skinned people were lower on the evolutionary ladder</i>. This is a book that had been popular in schools. Here’s a link to what it says about races: <a href="http://www.law.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/scopes/hunt196.htm"><span style="text-decoration: underline ; letter-spacing: 0.0px color:#000099;">http://www.law.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/scopes/hunt196.htm</span></a></span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So the teachers started teaching the inferiority of darker-skinned people, and of course, the students didn’t do the research themselves, just listened to bad teaching, and so the killing, raping, and oppression continued.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">They taught this in schools. They wrote about it in books. They portrayed it in movies. They preached it in pulpits. For several generations, up to our grandparents’ time. And we wonder why we still have race issues today.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-34697090777658285082010-01-04T18:01:00.000-08:002010-01-04T18:04:18.022-08:00The Road to Hell is Paved With My Good Intentions<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">School this year has, in some ways, gone really well; and in other ways... eh. Mostly ‘eh’ because of what I felt to be lack of organization and schedule-keeping on my part. So my New Year’s resolution was to get my butt in gear, have clear goals, stick to a flexible schedule, yadda yadda yadda. Starting TODAY.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Then my kids reminded me that we had a dental appointment scheduled for today. Crap.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">That was the beginning of our misery on this coldest day of the year (so far).</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Around nine in the morning I bent over to shove the pans strewn across the floor back into our kitchen cabinet when I felt cold air blowing from our kitchen vent.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Uh-oh.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Yup, the annual crap-out of our furnace had occurred, and the house was down to 55 degrees (which amazingly didn’t feel that much colder than our usual 68). So I call David and he offers to come home right away- don’t worry about it, I respond. We’re going to spend the morning at the dentist and then do some shopping. You can fix it when you get home, says I, thinking we’re going to be nice and snugly warm in our dentist’s office. Oh yea.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">We get to the dentist’s office around ten, and guess what? His front door decided it didn’t feel like closing anymore, so instead of a snugly warm office we sit and shiver, subjected to an even longer exposure to bad TV since the office PIPES HAD FROZEN and so our dentist was running around like a madman trying to fix it all rather than seeing patients. The dental people were all (understandably) cranky, and three hours later we trudge out of the dentist office (yes, with clean teeth and no bad news- one good thing at least in this day), scorfing down our crushed ham and turkey sandwiches and longingly dreaming of our frigid home. But first, Wal-mart.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">My dear brothers and sisters, perhaps you have heard from well-meaning preachers that your souls are in danger of the fires of hell because of your sinful ways. Well, let me tell you the truth: repent, or spend eternity in Wal-mart.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Oh. my. gosh. I shop there because the only viable alternative is Target, and I’m too much of a snob to shop with all THOSE snobs, them and their trendy housewares and cutesy marketing. Give me the world-dominating, employee-mistreating, redneck-loving, overly crowded aisles of Wal-mart any day. Except today. Or tomorrow. Or... well, preferably never. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The good thing is that Wal-mart was the absolute low point of the day- though really, can it get much worse than that? We came home to an abode that was still hovering around 50; made coffee (!); David came home and quickly fixed the furnace, and despite the resurgence of my cold, I managed to whip together a yummy mushroom-leek soup with homemade rolls.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">And tomorrow, SCHOOL! </span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-89353132384174724532009-12-16T13:46:00.000-08:002009-12-16T13:48:23.649-08:00Christmas Angst?<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Usually at this time of year I am bursting with resentment and rebellion against the entire culture of Christmas- the music, the decorations, and most especially the consumerism that defines the months of November and December in America.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">This year I feel curiously detached.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Still, I feel it is my duty to complain, so I’m trying to work up some Christmas angst. I guess I’ll have to revert to my standby gripe: Why is it that a holiday that is supposedly meant to commemorate the birth of a man who was born, raised, and murdered in abject poverty, celebrated by spending billions of dollars, mostly on gifts exchanged between people who barely tolerate each other and don’t need anything anyway?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Of course, Christmas was never really about Christ (in case you didn’t know, he never even hinted that we are supposed to center a holiday around his birth); it was about the Church sanitizing the yule festivities that had been celebrated in honor of the winter equinox- which is, in my opinion, a wonderful thing to celebrate, considering that it marks the beginning of daytime lengthening once again. Oh, I can’t wait!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’m not saying we shouldn’t commemorate Jesus’ birth. I just think that if we’re going to, we should do it in a way that honors his life, rather in a grumpy, harassed, gluttonous way. Maybe we should have a big dinner and invite only people who are too poor to reciprocate our invitation (didn’t Jesus actually tell us to do this on a regular basis anyway?). Maybe we should take the money we use for presents for people who already have so much stuff they have to rent PODS and give it support starving families (there are plenty to pick from). And maybe, instead of giving material gifts, we can forgive those relatives that drive us batty, we can say some kind words to our children/parents (oh, that’s a hard one!), we can go and clean our friends’ houses (hint hint)- basically, we can celebrate in ways that are meaningful, rather than simply contributing to this cultural mess of consumerism that has brought us nothing but unhappiness and stress for years.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Hmm. Still don’t feel much angst. Oh well. Maybe some egg nog will help...</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-6383843276573109602009-11-25T18:29:00.000-08:002009-11-25T18:49:44.384-08:00justmorocco.com : Moroccan Imports and Customer Abuse Center<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Seriously people.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So, we ordered a sink (<b>just the vessel, not the cabinet or faucet or anything- only the sink bowl</b>) for our master bathroom from a website known as justmorocco.com. $160- not cheap, but not outrageous either. The estimated shipping cost was another $22- which also was not cheap, but not outrageous either. When I ‘checked out’ I expected the actual shipping cost to end up much higher (just had that gut-feeling) but no, the total was around $182. Confirmation page said $182. Confirmation email said $182. All’s well.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Until I get another email- sorry, that was the wrong shipping cost. Website didn’t know to add another $30 to the grand total.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I emailed back. My confirmation email said $182, and I asked them to honor that price.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">They sell these sinks for $250, they said. That’s a fair price, and the shipping cost is actually $52. They were giving me a deal for the $160 + $52.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Whoa, we thought, what’s up with this? They advertised $160 and then gave me a shipping amount of $22. We thought they should stick with that, even if they felt they were getting ripped off- shouldn’t you think about that BEFORE you advertise a price? So, we said no, our confirmation email gave us a total of $182. They need to honor that.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">That’s when the customer abuse kicked in.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">She called me. The owner called me. And started spewing stuff at me. Like, she was just trying to do the right thing for these poor Moroccan families who aren’t being helped by their own government. Like, she was a small business and I didn’t understand shipping costs. She isn’t rich, she isn’t Target, you know. It’s just her and her husband and they live in this tiny house and... well, I gently- honestly, I was trying to be very calm- I gently explained that once you check-out, that’s it, rates can’t be raised. She retorted that it wasn’t confirmed until she okayed it herself...I politely asked where on the website it stated that, and she angrily accused me of <b>harassing her</b>. What?!? Whenever I tried to defend my position she would interrupt and continue spewing out reasons why the shipping cost had to be changed. She declared that we obviously couldn’t do business together (duh), so eventually I said fine, but I was going to have to let people know about this. You can imagine her reaction to that... I simply (still calmly, amazingly enough) said that I thought people should know how justmorocco does business. <b>And she hung up on me</b>.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Honestly, if she had apologized, explained nicely... I would have been happy to work out a compromise with her, or even paid the amended rate. But my conscience won’t allow me to let myself be abused.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">At least at Home Depot I just get ignored. Not insulted.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-45261367691630869942009-11-09T08:29:00.000-08:002009-11-09T08:37:38.202-08:00Yes, another post in which I pick on the modern Western schooling establishment<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">It’s my favorite thing to do.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Yesterday the kids spent the day at home with David, who is frantically trying to finish our master bathroom before the holidays. While he was available for emergencies and had them all help out at times, for the most part they were somewhat on their own during the afternoon & evening. They did fine.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">But I’ve noticed a trend after days when he and I are around, yet not able to give the kids a lot of attention. The boys (who are older) cope beautifully. They can entertain themselves, keep out of trouble, so on and so on. The girls, however, have major flashes of insecurity over the next several days. They are whinier and more demanding, pick on each other, talk back to me... and I’ve finally come to the conclusion that the one day of minimized attention has depleted their emotional reservoir, and they need it built back up by the normal routine of their parents (specifically, their mother) being more attentive to their behavior.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Now don’t get me wrong (for those of you who don’t know me)... I do not IN ANY WAY let my children hang on me all day (shudder). I’m not talking here about allowing my girls to demand constant attention for every little moment of their life. But I recognize that they have a level of emotional need that simply can’t be met without someone who is at least <i>available</i> for them on a very consistent basis. Even if it is only to shoo them away :)</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So all this makes me wonder... what happens to girls like this in a modern classroom setting, where there are but a few adults for a multitude of children? How can they possibly be getting their emotional needs met in this kind of situation? Especially considering that many times when they go home, they then have homework or sports, so the time when they might be getting attention from their parents is further restricted.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">A lot has been said and written about how modern schooling affects boys, but it is typically assumed that girls fare better in this same situation. I think this is a real misconception- for while girls may have the <i>appearance</i> of doing better- being able to control themselves better, getting better test scores, needing less chemical restraints, etc- I think there is a subtle damage being inflicted upon our girls that is evidencing itself through addictions, obesity, depression, troubled relationships and a scad of other woes related to our emotional instability. </span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-91585169377093383962009-11-03T16:41:00.000-08:002009-11-03T16:43:11.076-08:00Surreptitious Vegetarianism<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Yup, we are taking the plunge. Well, more like stepping into the 2” kiddie pool section that gradually slopes into infinity. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">For years, David and I have been wanting to decrease our beef/pork intake and have a more vegetarian diet. I do love animals, and I love eating them (even our foray into poultry raising hasn’t changed my opinion of chicken- yummy. Now I just think- yummy, and dumb. And poops a lot). So our interest is less to do with concern for animal welfare* and more to do with health. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">We mentioned the idea to the kids awhile back and their instant response was dismay and denial. So we dropped the discussion and I simply changed the menu. Thus far, they haven’t noticed the change. It probably helps that the money I usually spend on meat was channeled into healthy and fun snacks. Their astonishment at my unusual snack-generosity has distracted them from the missing element of all our recent dinners. I am not trying to deceive them, I am simply amused at how long it will take any of them to notice. By that time, it will be too late. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">We will continue having poultry occasionally, as well as eating meat when we go out or visit people for dinner. (Please let us know if you plan to serve steak. We will be right over.) And I don’t intend to transfer our meat-dependence to carbohydrate-dependence: the plan is to actually eat a lot more vegetables. Hopefully, in the long run,we’ll lose some weight, improve our digestions, and torment the children. Ah, the small joys of parenthood...</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">* I actually am very concerned with the mechanized slaughter and poor health conditions that produce most of our meat. I do not believe it is right that we raise animals in such way- a righteous man cares for the needs of his animal (Proverbs 12:10). However, honestly, my family’s health is simply a greater concern.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-80158409142795001922009-09-29T04:59:00.000-07:002009-09-29T05:01:52.441-07:00To those Drivers on the Road Last Night<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’m writing you a message to remind you of some of the basic rules of driving, which obviously, you’ve forgotten:</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">1. Passing: It’s a difficult and complicated routine. I’ll walk you through it, step by step. First, turn on your blinker. Your left blinker. This should be done sometime well before the point at which you are riding my bumper, and you should slow down enough that you are NOT riding my bumper. Now, once you check to see that the LEFT (not RIGHT) lane is clear, you gently move into the LEFT (not RIGHT) lane, gradually pass me, turn on your RIGHT blinker, then move back into the lane in front of me- making sure that there are SEVERAL car lengths between us. You never, never, ZIP AROUND ME AS FAST AS YOU CAN IN THE RIGHT LANE AND THEN BARELY SQUEEZE IN BETWEEN ME AND THE CAR THAT IS IN FRONT OF ME. </span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">2. Exit ramps: Another difficult concept. Exit ramps are used when you are leaving the highway. Therefore, you move into them as you are about to leave the highway, and YOU SLOW DOWN. That’s right, there is a speed limit posted on the exit ramp. YOU NEVER, NEVER, GO 70 MILES AN HOUR ON AN EXIT RAMP. That is illegal.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">3. Speaking of illegal, the posted speed limit is exactly that. A limit. Not the minimum, but rather, the maximum. Do you understand those large words? If I am going the speed limit, I am not going ‘too slow’. I am going just the right speed; in fact, if I go any faster, I would be breaking the law. Did you know that?</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">4. And speaking of laws, the pedestrian always has the right-of-way. No matter how much you honk, I will not run over the pedestrian that is crossing the street. That would also be illegal.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Thank you for taking my brief driving course, and if you forget these simple rules and once again endanger the lives of my family, I’m going to follow you home and beat you to death with a Missouri Drivers’ Guide.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-77772218202927104482009-09-01T04:49:00.000-07:002009-09-01T05:03:09.091-07:00Letter I wrote to Mother Earth NewsOn the topic of population control<div><br /></div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Population control is indeed a quick, easy fix to our planet’s problems- and quick, easy fixes are hardly ever the best. Let’s think about the facts. In the last hundred years, both Chinese and Americans have severely decreased the size of the their families; in those same hundred years, both Chinese and Americans have exponentially increased the amount they consume and pollute. Raising one or less children is not the answer. Raising responsible children is. One king can consume more than one thousand of his subjects. What population control may do, in the long run, is leave the earth with one million selfish, wasteful, lazy inhabitants who bring more destruction than the 6.7 billion of us did- simply because there are so few of them, and they think their actions won’t matter. Let us learn to live responsibly, to respect the resources and beauty around us, to respect our neighbors, and respect ourselves. This is a truly ‘sustainable’ lifestyle.</span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">And more thoughts that I did not include in the letter for brevity's sake, but which you must put up with because a blog is about someone running their mouth off anyway:</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">My mother grew up in a family of twenty, on a small farm in Puerto Rico. Their carbon footprint was pretty much nil. What they didn't grow or trade for, they didn't use or eat. They consumed less & polluted less than the modern suburban family of 3. It's just so easy to shout at other people 'You're the problem! Limit your family size! Reduce your usage!' without making changes in your own life. Is population control really about what's best for us as human beings and what's best for the creation, or is population control about wanting to regulate other people so we can have the freedom to do whatever the hell we want and not worry about the consequences? Considering the ingrained attitudes of most Americans (even 'green' Americans) that we 'deserve' this or that and we 'need' this or that, I believe the whole debate is more about protecting their own lifestyle rather than really loving other humans and loving the planet.</p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica">And I won't even begin to discuss the inherent racism and elitism that is the unspoken backbone of any kind of population control discussion....</p></div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-38632070918594055562009-08-30T18:21:00.000-07:002009-08-30T18:29:27.836-07:00The Sheik, a review of the original ‘romance’ novel from 1919<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Oh, my dear God. I could go on for hours. I will try keep it short. Personally? I think the author hated thin, strong-willed women, and she wrote an entire novel to prove that beautiful, independent women really should subjugate themselves to strong, violent men. And I am certainly not a feminist- though after reading this, I may have to rethink that. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The plot of the book is simple. Powerful man (the Sheik) sees beautiful, independent (and dumb) woman, powerful man kidnaps said dumb woman, powerful man repeatedly rapes said dumb woman with the intent of ‘breaking’ her and then casting her away, powerful man and dumb woman somehow fall in love. Romance? Shudder. Well-written? At some points- but mostly, ick. The reasoning given for the Sheik’s behavior is weak- his Spanish mother was somehow mistreated by her English husband. Sniffle. Let’s go rape a woman to make him feel better.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I am very anti book-censoring, but if I ever feel like burning a book, I will find a thousand copies of this book and build a huge bonfire. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">But... reading this book did make me think. About why a woman would like this kind of story, and find it romantic. About how this story has impacted women through the decades, and how it has affected the romance market of today. I see traces of this idea through many novels (hmmm, can we say Twilight?) that are geared towards girls and women: the concept that somehow, a man who loves you will dominate your life and hurt you but hey, that’s ok, because it’s romantic. How many women have stayed in abusive relationships simply because they think somehow their tormentor will eventually reform and fall in love with them? How many girls have sought out the dangerous man and been terribly hurt because they believed that to be more 'romantic'? </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I also have been comparing it to earlier romances, like the Bronte sister’s and Austen’s novels. The heroines, while in some ways following the traditional path of education and marriage that was acceptable for their time period, also exhibit strong characters and refuse to be mistreated. I simply can’t imagine Elizabeth Bennett meekly apologizing to a man who shot her horse out from under her, as happened in <i>the Sheik</i>. So it makes me wonder what happened in the hundred years between Austen and the Sheik, and then in the hundred years since the Sheik... is this progress? I'm sorry, I'll take Jane Eyre any day over this misogynist cesspool. And the biggest insult is that all this 'romance' is written by women, for women, and of women.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Ugh. I’m still shivering in horror.</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-36001044322634127482009-08-25T09:59:00.000-07:002009-08-25T10:01:03.663-07:00a lovely day of memories; or, why I love my neighborhood, and sometimes even my children<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">This is the kind of day I hope to look back on when my kids are grown and I need good memories of their childhood.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">First I would have to skip the early morning, since it was miserable. So let’s pretend the day started at 10 a.m., when we walked to the garden... and even though it is August in St. Louis, the breeze was almost too cool for my t-shirt and shorts.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">One of our eccentric neighbors was out watering his pretty corner garden. We chatted and he invited me to speak at his garden club. Everyone is suitably impressed with how wonderful our community garden looks and wrongfully attributes that success to my gardening skills. Hah. It is the mercy of God, people, the mercy of God. I am an infamous (I love that word) plant murderer. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">But I digress. How lovely to speak with an eccentric neighbor on a beautiful summer morning! We walked on to the garden, where a pleasant young Hindu man requested permission to take pictures for his Wash U architecture class. Of course I encouraged him; it all felt slightly surreal.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">The children then helped me harvest tomatoes and watermelon and zucchini and hot peppers- Malachi commented that it was one of the best days we’ve had at the garden. We left burdened with one of Stuart’s watermelons and a couple pounds of extra tomatoes to gift to the rehab house located on our block. Carrying a watermelon 5 blocks is always quite an experience! On the way home we noticed several more neighbors leaving the cafe that is preparing to open in a few days. We ascertained they were giving out free samples; how could we resist? More neighbors walked in to help with some work and the children and I all drank our respective lattes and java chip fraps (yum; this is a deliberate plug for the Urban Studio Cafe) and more chatting with neighbors followed. We plan to go back and help them clean up tonight if necessary.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Fresh watermelon, interesting neighbors, free samples... yes, a morning to remember!</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-62646622584272376072009-08-12T10:10:00.000-07:002009-08-12T10:14:11.881-07:00the guilt of a (homeschooling) mother....<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">David says I need to update. And, as a good wife, I will of course obey my husband (snicker).</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I am nervous about starting school this year. I think a lot of things play into my nervousness: all 4 (four!) of the kids will technically be of school-age, so there will be a lot of attention-juggling. I will be using a couple different curriculums than I’ve used in the past, so that’s another stress, and we are SO SO busy- yet another stress.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">But mostly I think my nervousness is due to that perpetual feeling of inadequacy that seems to dominate my role as mother/teacher. Objectively, I know that my kids are smart (or at least smart-asses), they are maturing well, they are learning, they have friends, blah blah blah. But emotionally I face continual questions: Are we doing enough? Am I too easy on them? Too hard? Too bitchy? Am I spoiling them? (yes; they think Grandma making them put ice in their warm sodas is pure abuse).</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Each year I strive for change, and each year I feel like I end up in the same pattern of disorganization and laziness- I don’t give the kids enough review work. I don’t test them enough (ok, I don’t test them at all). They complain too much about their assignments. I don’t follow through on things. School is boring, when it could be so much more interesting. I should just unschool. Heck, I should enroll them all in a 'real' school. A boarding school, that is, in Switzerland, where they don’t take crap off nobody.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I find in situations like this that the best thing to do is move forward, plan in one hand and credit card in the other, buy what I need to buy, plan what I need to plan, and remember to roll with the punches rather than trying to perfectly anticipate every trial the year will bring. Most of my problems come from being too uptight and needing too much control. The children will learn & grow; I’ll survive; we’ll have good days and bad days; and another year will pass. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">And on days where I have no hope at all... I’ll brew another pot of coffee and cancel school in favor of a good book. Hmmm... makes me wish for a lot of bad days....</span></p>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-64978722812988612342009-07-22T18:46:00.000-07:002009-07-22T18:48:57.106-07:00A long and rambling post about our youth group's trip to NYC<p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">First, I would be remiss if I didn’t start this off by saying that Grace and Peace has the BEST YOUTH GROUP EVER! Those kids just thoroughly impressed me- I’ve never been with a group of teens like this: they didn’t complain, they cooperated with whatever we asked them to do, worked hard, and they threw themselves into enjoying our trip. Wow!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">So then... NYC. Yes, we drove. Yes, it’s a long trip. We talked, we sang, we played goofy roadtrip games, and we slept (a lot). Not to mention all the potty stops (can someone please invent a steel-bladder insert for long drives?).</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Speaking of stops, Carrie Swarthout is the official ‘Starbucks spotter’ of the century. Thank you, Carrie. You are my hero!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">And the 6 days we spent in New York... I think highlights are more appropriate than a blow-by-blow account.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-We helped our friends, Michael and Roseann Kytka, run a Vacation Bible School at their church in Queens. Mostly neighborhood kids, mostly bilingual, lots of Asians. All the kids just lapped up the attention that our group and the other VBS helpers deluged upon them. They were so cute! </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-And speaking of cute, one of my 3-year-old students only spoke Japanese. It was fun trying to communicate with her and see her eagerness to learn and participate despite that sturdy language barrier. Her mom was just like all those sweet, female anime personalties that you think really don’t exist: eager to serve, always positive & cheerful- I’ll miss her! She thought I had moved to NYC and was disappointed when she found out I was leaving.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-The best, best BEST part of the city (in my humble opinion) is Chinatown. Oh my, what fun. What great food. What cheap Chinese souvenirs. Yes, we bought swords, dresses, scarves, bags, whatever else we could get our hands on. I told the kids that of course, it’s all just made in China.... so if I could move anywhere in NYC, I would pick Chinatown. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-The next best part of the city is the Guggenheim. A museum in which you cannot get lost; it is built in a spiral form, so you just keep walking up, darting off into small ante-rooms that are loaded with exceptional artwork. I bought a t-shirt for me and Malachi, who also fell in love with the place.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-I saw Michaelangelo’s first painting (at the Met). Creepy and excellent. Demons tormenting St. Anthony. Also a bunch of Bacon’s work, also creepy and excellent.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-Riding the subway is another thrilling experience (yes, I’m easily thrilled). Seriously, it’s a blast for a girl from a ‘big city’ that has no decent public transportation. We actually had a mariachi band follow us on to the train one day and begin to play, walking through the cars and collecting cash. SO COOL!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-Mac Store is as cool in person as it is in pictures. No, we didn’t go inside: the crowds were deadly. Plus, I knew we would never be able to drag the kids out. Better to window shop there and then do the actual buying here.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-David wants to move into the Met and the public library. I just want to see MoMA and Starry Night. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-We skipped Starbuck’s in Times Square to go to Juan Valdez’s Cafe in Times Square. It was good.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-5th Avenue and Times Square? Overstimulating. Neat to see, but... just not my thing. Carissa and I ate breakfast at Tiffany’s.... well, we ate granola bars outside the doors. Is that close enough?</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-Coolest thing in Times Square? NYC shut down a street and people bring their lawn chairs to watch the crowds and just relax, while everything around them moves in technicolor top speed. What an odd juxtaposition!</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-Only really bad experience: Katz Deli, in Soho. Good food, overpriced ($16 for an ordinary-sized Reuben? WTF?) and then the manager tried to rip us off even more. Long story; I cried, we prayed, we managed to get out for only $250 rather than the $450 she was going to charge us for 14 freaking sandwiches, a few pickles, and 10 knishes. We drank water, btw.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-The Artwork! The Architecture! Everywhere! Not quite like Chicago, but pretty impressive nonetheless. Even the graffiti is good (unlike St. Louis).</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-New Yorkers are a sad bunch of people, chasing money, exhausted, commercialized, over-sexed and under-joyed. They all seem to despise their great city while also loving it. The large exception to this are the abundant immigrants, who were friendly and apparently happy. The people we talked to pretty consistently said that NYC is a huge step up from their previous country. Ouch.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">-Ok, I have an embarrassing admission: I appreciated getting back to the Midwest. The rural folk we stayed with in Indiana were the first people I had met all week who were into natural living- composting, fresh food, healthy meat, etc. Again, the New Yorkers are just way too busy to be concerned with those small details. New York, at least on the surface, struck me as the bastion of Mainstream American Culture. Ugh.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"></span><br /></p> <p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’m glad I finally got to see this great City. It was a wonderful experience and I hope one day to go back. But honestly... it isn’t even close to my favorite place in the world. However, I really did feel that we brought a little bit of light and joy into a place that is filled with darkness and depression, and that, more than anything else, made it a worthwhile adventure.</span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-89242773752122137022009-06-26T09:33:00.000-07:002009-06-26T09:50:29.436-07:00Another unschooling victoryI was feeling disappointed this morning that my children don't share my exuberance for gardening. People ask, "Do the children help you with the garden?" and I have to be like... well... yes, but often reluctantly, and usually for only a short period of time. But I quickly came to my own defense in this mental conversation I was having: we garden <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">a lot.</span> I just can't expect my children to jump up and down with enthusiasm when I'm asking them to pull weeds in 98 degree weather. In fact, I can't expect them to jump at all, when it's an exertion just to breathe.<div><br /></div><div>And... the reality is, my kids also now know <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">a lot</span> about raising their own food. We have had very little formal instruction time, but simply being at the garden, helping the other gardeners (always much more interesting than helping mom), watching other gardeners, and just experiencing the daily life of a garden has taught them more than I could ever do from a textbook or even an enriched classroom environment. They have seen the process of transforming sad-looking soil into lushly growing, healthy, yummy food. Perhaps they couldn't pass a written test (especially if perfect spelling were required) but I am confident that any one of them would be able to create their own garden and help others do the same. And, well, they have: Stuart has a watermelon patch in one of the community beds, Anastasia has a 'secret' (weed) garden here at home, plus numerous cacti. </div><div><br /></div><div>Learning by doing... it's the way to go!</div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-24725207456813694172009-06-20T13:00:00.000-07:002009-06-20T13:29:11.866-07:00What we can learn from the gay marriage movementThis is pride month, and in St. Louis, gay couples are celebrating by getting married. No, gay marriage is not governmentally recognized in MO: these couples are simply finding a religious official who supports them, and they have a ceremony. Easy as that. I don't know their hearts; I don't know how long they'll stay together, or if it's going to matter in their relationship if they do or do not have a document with a legal seal on it, but it seems to me a much better way to approach the whole issue than throwing hysterical, politically-charged fits about it. There is this sense that emanates from a good portion of the homosexual community that what they are seeking is everyone else's 'approval'- that somehow they have to legitimize their lifestyle through the acceptance of the rest of the world. Anything less than that is somehow hatred- even though I treat my queer friends just like I do everybody else, the fact that I may have a difference of opinion somehow makes me homophobic. So it is good to see people simply living their life as they believe is their right, without demanding the 'approval' of the majority of the voting community. <div><br /></div><div>How does this apply to the Christian community? Really, I believe we are often the same: throwing politically-charged, hysterical fits to be 'accepted', 'approved', 'normal'. Anything less is somehow hatred. If people treat us in the same crappy way they treat everybody else, but they choose not to wish us Merry Christmas, suddenly that means we are hated and the target of persecution (try living in North Korea and THEN let's talk about Christian persecution....) But American Christians seem determined to politically demand acceptance and approval by the culture. The irony of this... much more so than in the homosexual community... is that PEOPLE, WE FOLLOW A MAN WHO TOLD US WE WOULD BE HATED! Sorry for shouting, but come on! What did you think you signed up for, a trip to Disney World? Yes, even though we give away more money than the rest of the population combined, yes, even though we run orphanages, build hospitals, feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, champion the imprisoned, and are basically just nice people across the world, we are HATED. Why? Well, duh, people in general try to hide the fact that they are inherently lying, greedy scumbags, and as soon as a Christian walks in the room, boom, the game is up. Hate is an obvious consequence of convicting the world of its sin. So what should we do? Demand that our country 'return to being a Christian nation' so we can feel nice and comfy and never offended, or continue to live our lives as we know is right, doing what we know is right, and accept the consequences of our lifestyle?</div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-68193934757775136112009-06-11T08:36:00.000-07:002009-06-11T09:02:48.910-07:00Sick DayAn official sick day for mommy here at the Holden House. Not that it makes a huge amount of difference; I basically have to do the same stuff I do everyday, I just have an excuse to moan a bit more, and sit at the computer instead of doing more housework (like cleaning the gross bathrooms). The kids are cranky that their friends didn't get to come over because I'm sick- since, of course, it's my fault that I had to BBQ last night and sit next to a smoker at Stuart's baseball game and thus developed a severely sore throat- and also overly excited because of the week's activities. But they're not handling it too badly and have kept themselves somewhat occupied and have also refrained from major skirmishes with one another.<div><br /></div><div>Sick days always remind me that my worth does not arise from my productivity. I love to LIVE life; to be involved and busy and full of fire. But that is in some ways diametrically opposed to Jesus' teaching that 'he who wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.' Good thing to remember on days like this!</div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-74138433851286956032009-06-05T18:22:00.001-07:002009-06-05T18:38:41.520-07:00selfishnessSelfishness seems to have become hip at our household lately. It has slowly been building over the last several weeks... more focus on 'getting what we want', leading to more complaining, more whining, and finally a LOT more squabbling. I've done scads of threatening and punishment to little avail- I think because overall, the children have a difficult time understanding the subtle wrongness of selfishness. It's not like slapping someone or stealing their money. It's not breaking a direct order from mommy or daddy ('don't be selfish' is a bit too nebulous for elementary-aged children). And while they perfectly understand the concepts of loving your neighbor and treating others like you want to be treated, let's face it- getting our own way just seems much easier and certainly much more fun.<div><br /></div><div>I've cancelled treats, taking away privileges, kept track of misbehavior and things have certainly improved. There seems to be more of an <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">awareness</span> of the issue. But still, it has been rearing its ugly head much too often. "No, you can't have that toy, I might play with it someday." "I'm going to keep singing this song just BECAUSE it annoys you- no other reason necessary!" "I'm not going to be happy with any meal except one that I choose myself, and it has to be something nobody else in the family likes!" </div><div><br /></div><div>You get the point.</div><div><br /></div><div>So today, finally, finally, there seemed to be a bit of a breakthrough- an epiphany moment, when the light bulb flashed above the heads and they realized the full hideousness of selfishness. Suddenly the reason for all my anger and punishment broke through the thick skulls of my stubborn children- because they were, collectively, on the receiving end of someone else's selfishness. A seemingly minor selfishness, but nonetheless terribly painful for all involved. My children asked me 'why? Why would someone do something like this to us?' and I could answer, 'Selfishness, nothing more and nothing less. Simply because this person wants what they want, nevermind if the cost is everyone else's feelings.' This person's actions weren't the terrible sins that we tend to gasp over. There was no rape, robbery or murder. Just simple selfishness, but that was enough.</div><div><br /></div><div>Will this mean the end of squabbling and complaining? I could hope so, but I know better than that! Will things improve? I think so.</div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-39724574342690133042009-05-17T16:42:00.000-07:002009-05-17T16:57:04.942-07:00Expounding more upon the previous postWith the new responsibilities of this new position of mine (community garden coordinator) I have faced a whole slew of new insecurities. I would have said- and have said- that I posses a plethora of self-confidence and have conquered my fears of failure. So I was completely unprepared for the onslaught of anxiety that has overtaken me the last few months. <div><br /></div><div>What all these fears- will seeds germinate? Why aren't they germinating? Now they've germinated- why aren't they growing faster? Oh no, bugs. What do I do? and so on- what they all boil down to is, as I said in my last post, I am not the one in control. In other areas of my life I can at least pretend to control things. I can 'do my best'. I can learn. I can BS my way out of a paper bag. But this project produces tangible evidence of my abilities (or lack thereof) and is VERY much dependent on numerous factors that are simply out of my control.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what can I do? I can fall back on the faithful excuse that so many other Christians have used throughout the ages... if it doesn't work out, it's all God's fault, anyway. No, seriously, I just repeat this to myself every day: One man plants and another waters, but it is God who causes the growth. With this realization my fears fall away... as do my pride and my self-glorification. </div><div><br /></div><div>And, in case you were wondering, the American Botanist Society has taken me off their list of 'Most-Wanted Plant Murderers'.</div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-80129457388577162032009-05-12T18:09:00.000-07:002009-05-12T18:18:47.671-07:00SadnessThe garden had some tragedies. First were the cucumber beetles, which destroyed my hard-earned zucchini seedlings. I tried two different plant-based sprays to no avail, and am purchasing something stronger (yet still organic) for the next batch of squash seeds I hope to get in the ground on Thursday. <div><br /></div><div>Then the birds hit. Half of my tomato seedlings are gone without a trace, a stick and a pot the silent testimonies that Once, A Plant Was Here. Most of the hot peppers seedling ended up as food for the 'birds of the air'. Grrr. A scarecrow now stands in the garden; will he keep the birds away? I don't know yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>Amidst these tragedies, I know that there are many more victories than losses. Romaine and mustard greens are thriving, turnips and cilantro, basil and mint... and I have more tomato plants, more pepper plants, and always more seeds. But why is it my thoughts are more discouraged than encouraged? Why does one negative outweigh all the positives? Or perhaps the rude reminder that this is all out of my control, that all my hard work and great methods are really insignificant- gardening, like so much of life, is a matter of patience and faith.</div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-39397890965484375362009-05-11T06:25:00.000-07:002009-05-11T06:36:43.939-07:00Only on a MondayStuart was innocently brushing his teeth. Malachi, who was making up interesting lyrics for the Sound of Music song "Do, a Deer, ray, a spot of golden sun, etc.", and I were putting away laundry. India stood at the bathroom door, complaining that she needed to use the potty.<div><br /><div>I should have been a wise mother and instructed her to go downstairs to the other potty. </div><div><br /></div><div>Instead, Stuart was a kind older brother, and stepped out of the bathroom, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. Brush, brush, brush. Malachi keeps singing, I keep folding laundry. Finally, Stuart mumbles through a mouth full of toothpaste: 'India, I need to spit. Are you done?'</div><div><br /></div><div>'No, I'm going number 2.'</div><div><br /></div><div>We collectively groan: 'Why didn't you go downstairs!?' Malachi keeps singing. Stuart is getting desperate, and I send him downstairs to spit. At this point, Malachi starts singing, '2, a 2, a number 2' . I should have been a good mother and told him in no uncertain terms that we do not sing about excrement in this house, but I was laughing too hard to say much of anything. India hears the commotion and yells from the pot: 'Stop joking! This is serious!' which of course sends me into gales of more laughter. Malachi can't think of any more words for his song, so he just keeps repeating: '2, a 2, a number 2', and poor Stuart treks upstairs from spitting and rinsing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Moral of the story: Oftentimes, doing the right thing (like sharing the bathroom with your little sister) leads to insanity and more work.</div></div>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1644731870463330367.post-977328486538510442009-05-06T17:06:00.000-07:002009-05-06T17:10:04.329-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYaCllDKPBd850ZtRGYXi-Vnbrq9nvcXiA9ybG-l2uIBntoYQ-zXt58N7wii8kdNAhEOh4lhWLZFy_frQ4tg3YVreY1LAtc9nJN5kI8j08cvaQz4mWTVvioyAVmgf77Yl2G0WnOqxSOsp/s1600-h/sunset2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYaCllDKPBd850ZtRGYXi-Vnbrq9nvcXiA9ybG-l2uIBntoYQ-zXt58N7wii8kdNAhEOh4lhWLZFy_frQ4tg3YVreY1LAtc9nJN5kI8j08cvaQz4mWTVvioyAVmgf77Yl2G0WnOqxSOsp/s320/sunset2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332867141286727426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrugc0GoAmUWu2vrUYecJkMbNPA1Rc-jJMXdCt6fl0oiCOYCQRX5bV7JTSY_3KouFsZ2IAXRauSZDNmExWVHcJeK2iaG8RGf6ABhqeOeY0ODk4Ya-HN-ck7hN4KBF4VAc9KJXl_wYC1oDs/s1600-h/photoshopped+snail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrugc0GoAmUWu2vrUYecJkMbNPA1Rc-jJMXdCt6fl0oiCOYCQRX5bV7JTSY_3KouFsZ2IAXRauSZDNmExWVHcJeK2iaG8RGf6ABhqeOeY0ODk4Ya-HN-ck7hN4KBF4VAc9KJXl_wYC1oDs/s320/photoshopped+snail.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332867136022568530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnXtZeNOy_XTOfUOKYntNbSiXkLnRq4_kP6RLk9T5o8sV2cxyYNF2uMkfPNQ8gnZnFVpyNVOY_MF6x02QuzhtAPkkg8FFZjCbktBejlAZW9fXnre1q5uo-IMxIHTrr36a4iYXzV3IFJ0h/s1600-h/opening.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 233px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCnXtZeNOy_XTOfUOKYntNbSiXkLnRq4_kP6RLk9T5o8sV2cxyYNF2uMkfPNQ8gnZnFVpyNVOY_MF6x02QuzhtAPkkg8FFZjCbktBejlAZW9fXnre1q5uo-IMxIHTrr36a4iYXzV3IFJ0h/s320/opening.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332867129513644610" /></a>Phvernhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14697015924227579509noreply@blogger.com0