Fashion tips from the trenches

* When Baby has a cold, wear a print top as opposed to a solid. You will get sniveled upon, and the pattern will camouflage the slime better.

* And wear a ponytail if you absolutely cannot get your hair cut short. Sickness makes babies want to pull and eat hair more than usual.

* When cooking dinner, wear an apron, for goodness sake. Don't think for a minute, no matter how clever, agile, or long of arms you are, that you can manage to stir anything on the stove without getting spattered on.

Driving up the cost

Finally we settled with the insurance company for the car, which was of course ruled a total loss. As of yesterday the wreck is out of our driveway, leaving me to ponder just what an expensive luxury owning a car is. I read once that depreciation alone is the most expensive cost to owning a car, far outstripping maintenance, insurance, and even gasoline (although maybe that was written before the latest surge in gas prices).

So I did the math. We bought that car just two years ago, at about the blue book value. We received a settlement for the car at approximately the current blue book value. Certainly we would have liked it if the settlement had been a bit on the higher end of the range, but my point is that the cost was about average each time, sans any bargains or rip-offs.

We took good care of that car, giving it all the regular check-ups and oil changes, and until the fateful crash it was never involved in any other accident. Yet the total loss in value of that car averaged over $100/month during the time that we owned it! Talk about depreciating assets! When you actually do factor in all the other costs associated with running a vehicle, then it becomes a very pricey convenience indeed.

Potter, r.i.p. (or not)

At some point I've got to write up a long, philosophical bit about all the things wrong with Harry Potter (and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that the books involve magic) and why I dislike the series. But for now, with all the hoopla about the final book coming out (finally! Can we just get over the fad already??), I'll just fall back on my main gripe, which is that the books are simply too lame to justify the level of the craze.

I feel pretty much the same way I did about Michael Crichton and his smash hit with Jurassic Park: That's all?? Dinosaurs coming back to life? Come on, I could have thought of that one! Same thing with a kid who discovers that he's got magical powers. Of course kids will lap this up!

One good thing about this, though, is the number of people who tend to go gaga over the books. These fans include people whose opinion I respect, so it makes me a more sympathetic person to see otherwise sensible people find enjoyment in things that I can see right through. It makes me appreciate their good-humoured forbearance with me when I was just a little bit excessively fond of Star Wars a decade or so ago. For what do we live, but to make sport of our neighbours, and to laugh at them in our turn? =)

On Scripture Memory

I've been wondering recently how to measure the value of scripture memory, which led me to wonder whether such an attempt at quantifying spiritual matters is even allowed. After all, we are supposed to hide God's Word in our hearts so as not to sin (is that actually a command anywhere, or is it mainly anecdotal testimonials drawn largely from Psalm 119?), which ought to be the clincher right there. But if scripture memory is an option rather than an imperative, should we or should we not seek to pursue it?

The first and obvious answer is yes, we should. I was encouraged (first by monetary bribes, then by the esprit de corps of family projects) to memorize many verses at a very young age, until eventually the discipline became internal and I chose to learn and remember the Word of God on my own. I'm very grateful for this discipline, because everything I learned before the age of, say, fifteen, I still retain most vividly and clearly. (Beyond that, the passages get a little fuzzier, but I can always brush them up rather sprucily.) I'm glad for the familiarity with scripture, I'm glad for the practice, and I'm glad to be able to quote pertinent passages at a moment's notice so that I might be 'ready always to give an answer' and 'rightly divide the word of truth' (um, yeah, I can quote the words readily enough, but I still can't usually cite them without the help of a concordance).

But I have noticed that when I read my Bible nowadays (or all during the last ten years, more or less), whenever I come to a passage or a verse that I already know, I tend to find my mind glossing over it a bit, skipping through the familiar words as if on auto-pilot while my critical thinking races on ahead. It's easier for me to be struck by something profound and new when it's a verse I don't already know by heart. (Even though I'm already familiar with a lot of the main ideas of the Bible, I never actually memorized the verse in the gospel about 'Look, Lord, here are two swords,' for instance, so it always catches me by surprise and delight.) I can absorb the gist of it, but I'm not necessarily reading with a mind open to the setting of, 'Huh, that's interesting - I wonder what he's trying to say here.'

I'm not sure what the solution is. When I catch myself skimming through familiar territory, I try to slow down and ponder the significance of what I am reading. It's tricky to spot, though - when was the last time you stopped to ponder the staggering implications of John 3:16?

And I really don't think the best idea would be not to memorize scripture. I'm very excited about standing Jane in good stead as young as possible, but I don't want to think that I'm crippling her Bible studies for the rest of her life by giving her a rote acquaintance with that which is sacred and holy.

Ella

Jane

The year is on the wane

It's hard to believe that July is more than half over already. I passed up even Friday the Thirteenth and Bastille Day with nary a post, which is a fair indication of how busy I must be. Some quick highlights of last week:

* I discovered that Wal-mart will price match local competitors' sales. Apparently they have been doing this for some time, and if the item is under $10, you don't even need to flourish the competitor's sale flier to get the price, although it is up to the manager's discretion what qualifies as local. This is a tremendous boon in the cheap food department, as Aldi, my best source of cheap staples, is an inconvenient distance off my beaten path.

* I tried my hand at homemade granola, and it turned out scrumptiously. The cold cereal dilemma was really getting to me, but I wasn't quite ready to get up at the stroke of 6 a.m. and fry eggs and toast for Michael's breakfast every morning just to keep him from eating overpriced and unwholesome cold cereal. Besides, I really really really don't want to weird him out too much with any health kicks. He's been most long-suffering with my whole wheat spaghetti and the brown-rice-flour-in-the-brownies fiasco, but still. I'm delighted that he's delighted by this new discovery. Jane and I like it, too. We eat it the European way, with yogurt (although, alas, my spoiled palate requires a liberal dose of maple syrup).

* I watched a friend's two kids on Friday, and discovered what a handful four little children can be. They are delightful children, 25 months and 12 months old, but so active, so inquisitive, so requiring of attention! Even with naps spelling my two, I did not get a single thing done. I read books, I helped share toys, I helped the guests not climb onto the hearth, but there was no getting supper ready or cleaning the house. The wonderful thing is that it made the rest of the week feel that much easier. Oh, only two to juggle? Not a problem in the least. Three children next weekend will be a positive breeze.

*We've been a little addicted to X-Files recently. A friend burned Seasons 1-3 onto disc for us and we've been watching them rather later than we ought each night. I find the endings decidedly inconclusive. We are told that the movie ties loose ends up a bit, which it jolly well better. Meanwhile I cannot be left alone in a dark house and keep expecting giant leeches to crawl out of the drains.

* Jane now knows all her letters and what sounds they make. Ella will be six months old at the end of the month. We may have occasion to be using our passports again ere long.

Jaws

Jane's new favourite book is The Nutcracker. It's a beautifully illustrated children's book, with a marvelous retelling of the classic story. But even more marvelous is Michael's rendition, which I had the treat of listening to the other night as he read to her before bedtime. I sat nearby holding Ella and constantly dissolving into giggles at his reading.

'All the children loved Herr Drosselmeyer. Why, you ask? Because he had such a funny first name...

'"No, Fritz, no!" Clara cried, running after him, so she could beat him into a bloody pulp...

'The nutcracker crashed to the floor and broke into a million and one pieces. Sadly Clara picked up the million and one pieces and showed them to Herr Drosselmeyer. "Why, Clara," he said, quickly hiding the million pieces behind his back and tying his handkerchief around the jaw, "many good soldiers get wounded in battle..." And he handed the jaw back to Clara...

'Later that night Clara woke up and saw that tremendous mice were fighting with the jaw. "Leave him alone!" she cried, pulling on the tail of the largest mouse, who ran off frightened, because apparently it was more frightened of having its tail pulled than of being skewered by the jaw's sword...

'"Thank you for your help," said the prince, picking up the crown which had fallen from the mouse's head and placing it upon Clara's head. Now would you like to wear a crown that had just been on the head of a tremendous mouse? No. So be glad you don't live in Germany. "I would like to take you back to the Land of Sweets so all my friends can hear about how I had to be rescued by a girl...."

'When the prince and Clara arrived, he told his friends all about what a schlub he was...

'And then he called for his sleigh, which was drawn by two reindeer. Why, you ask? Because they were the best artists in the kingdom...'

It occurred to me to document just how many books we've read aloud to each other since our marriage. I was going to note that the pace has slowed drastically since the children showed up, but we actually read more books aloud now than ever before. It's just that now they tend to be very short, full of pictures, and titled along the lines of Goodnight Moon.

Books Rose has read aloud to Michael:

Pride and Prejudice
The Scarlet Pimpernel
Scaramouche
The Prisoner of Zenda
Beau Geste
Ella Enchanted
Johnny Tremain
Carry On, Mr. Bowditch
The Wind in the Willows
Farmer Boy
Little House in the Big Woods

Books Michael has read aloud to Rose:

The Sword of Shannara
The Elfstones of Shannara
Wizard's First Rule
Magic Kingdom for Sale
The Christian Mind
The Great Divorce
The Case for Christ
The Singer
The Knowledge of the Holy

Hmm, do we detect any sort of a pattern here? I am sure there are other books, but that's all I can think of off the top of my head. Probably even more telling is the list of books I want to read to Michael. Things like Little Women, the Anne series, A Little Princess, the Grandma's Attic series, and the like all involve books I read often growing up, so they have a lot to do with shaping my opinions and thoughts. But they're also rather girly books, so I'm going to have to put some thought into how to work them in. Not every series has a Farmer Boy.

Little house in Georgia

We read a lot to each other in the early days of our marriage. Most evenings involved reading at least a chapter or two of whatever book we were on, and it seemed we always had several going at once.

Nowadays, however, we don't seem to have as much time for lounging about, reading aloud, and talking over the ideas. Our evenings these days involve eating dinner, playing with the girls, putting them down, and then racing about trying to accomplish whatever it is we want to get done before we collapse. Pretty much nothing productive can be done while they're both awake, other than washing the supper dishes.

So I decided to remedy matters. Recently I tossed one of the books I want to read to Michael into the car, and started reading a chapter or two aloud whenever we were on the way somewhere. We started on the Little House books, which he has never read but has an aversion to based on his impression of the, in his words, cheesy TV show. So I started off with Farmer Boy, thinking that he might more easily identify with the adventures and escapades of a little boy growing up than those of a little girl.

We've just started Little House on the Prairie, and I'm realising, as I read these books, how much my perspective has changed since the last time I read them, which must have been all of ten years ago, at least. I read these books many times growing up, and I always identified with Laura, of course. She writes well, and it's easy to picture her life based on the vivid descriptions. Now, however, I'm seeing things from Ma's perspective.

Pa and Ma's constant battle for survival, facing the elements and bringing calm and comfort to the life they have chosen, is astounding. I read about Ma sitting at home doing the mending while Pa goes off into the Big Woods every day, and wonder whether I could be so calm if our lives involved facing death on a daily basis ('If Pa met a bear or a panther, he must kill it with the first shot, for a wild animal could kill a man before he could reload his gun'). Would I be sitting quietly at home, colouring the butter with carrot juice in the winter because I like everything on my table to be pretty, while Michael was out and about in the snowstorm? What about leaving all their family behind in the Big Woods, and loading up all their possessions in the wagon, leaving behind the beds, tables, and chairs, because 'Pa could always make more'?

These people knew so much about survival, about self-sufficiency and initiative and resourcefulness. When they came to a river, they knew they must cross it, and risked their lives making the ford. Pa and Ma worked so closely at everything, perfectly sizing up the situation and meeting it head-on. They had so little in material wealth, and so much in terms of character and practical experience.

I love this exchange from Little House in the Big Woods:

'No one'd ever starve on your cooking, Caroline,' said Pa.
'Well, no, Charles,' said Ma, 'not while you were there to provide for us.'