Wanderers on Earth

Old.

2011-01-29T11:38:00.000-08:00

I was having my yearly chat with my dear friend Sarah last night, and she pointed out it's easy to follow my blog because I only post once a semester or so. *Sigh* In an effort to remedy that, she told me to blog my life as it happens, which I think would be depressing because nothing much ever happens. But, I told her, the other day I *did* walk into the Verizon store to see what we can do about our pathetic languishing in telecommunicational purgatory. The answer was not much, and in the process I learned I appear hopelessly aged to anyone under 30.

It started when he asked to see my cell phone, which, I explained to Sarah, has a calculator and not much else.

"Well," protested Peter, "When you got it, you were all happy it had a color display...."

The man has a knack for cutting off an argument with the facts.

Anyway, upon seeing my phone, the hip young thang behind the counter decided he had to talk v-e-r-y slowly and deliberately so that I could understand him. If I wanted to ditch my landline and maintain internet connectivity, I would need to tether a smart phone to my computer.

At that point, he had no clue that I was being very restrained in not asking him to just tell me the bottom line. He patiently and painstakingly explained I needed to download an app to be able to connect my computer through my phone.

"An app....." he looked hesitatingly at me. "....A special...application. Like...a little program that you put on your phone to....do stuff."

Never mind. I'll just take my senile self down the street to the Mac store. Yeah. I bet they can hook me up!

The Tabernacle in Gingerbread

2010-12-22T07:05:00.000-08:00

This is what we've been up to this Christmas season:

Here's the outer courtyard with wash basin, altar of burnt offering, and the Holy Place and Most Holy Place. Lucy did the wash basin, but, sadly, I don't have a good picture of it.A closer look at the Holy Place and Most Holy Place.The Holy Place with table for the showbread, the altar of incense and the lampstand.
The Most Holy Place. Cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant by Edmund.
Altar of Burnt Offering.
These are the recipes we've been using for two generations in our family for gingerbread fun at Christmas. We've never made a Tabernacle before, however. It just so happens that a scale model puts the Holy Place and Most Holy Place together at 30 centimeters, or about the length of a standard ruler. The width and height are 10 centimeters each. The outer courtyard is 100 centimeters by 50 centimeters (that's a little over a yard by half a yard).

Gingerbread for Men or Houses
Bake at 350F for 15 minutes.

1/3 cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar, packed
12 oz. (1 1/2 cups) dark molasses
2/3 cup cold water
7 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda (aka bicarbonate)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon ginger
1 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Mix shortening, sugar and molasses thoroughly. Stir in water. Sift remaining ingredients together and stir in. Chill dough. Heat oven to 350F. Roll dough 1/2 to 1/4 inch thickness. Cut shapes. Bake at 350F for 15 minutes, switching racks halfway through baking. When done, no imprint will remain when touched lightly with finger.
------
Royal Icing for Gingerbread House Construction

1 pound sifted confectioner's sugar
3 large egg whites
1/2 teaspoon lemon extract (I always use 1 teaspoon lemon juice)
drop of water at a time to reach desired consistency. (When I use the lemon juice I never need the water.)

Beat well, approximately 6 minutes.

Makes enough for one batch of gingerbread houses.

When we make houses, we cut from a pattern using a 3X5 card for a roof and a card cut to 2 1/2 by 5 for sides. From that, you can cut ends that match the height of the sides and form a point where the roof meets. It's fun and easy to do, and they're really cute! :)

Favorite Things?

2010-10-16T19:09:00.000-07:00

I was asked today, on two separate occasions, what my favorite holiday is and what my favorite Christmas hymn or poem is. Since I am looking forward these days to November and all the fun it holds for our family (three birthdays and Thanksgiving!), I thought I'd share my answers here. Not that you care much, but.... At any rate, this blog post is helping me procrastinate. Of course, you'd never do that, either.

Favorite holiday: it's a toss-up. Around this time of year, I say Thanksgiving. Around Easter, I say Resurrection Sunday. I love them both, but Resurrection Sunday probably would win in a dead heat, since I gave my heart to my Savior on that day. Besides, Lucy was born around then, too.

Incidentally, I also like to celebrate Purim, the Jewish festival remembering the book of Esther.

No, I'm not Jewish. At least, I wasn't born that way.

Favorite Christmas hymn? Hands down, it's Good Christian Men, Rejoice. That's good stuff.

Finally, my favorite Christmas poem follows below. Now the Holy Days may commence! (Feel free to share your faves, too, in the comments.)

Let the Stable Still Astonish.

by Leslie Leyland Fields

Let the stable still astonish.

Straw–dirt floor, dull eyes,
Dusty flanks of donkeys, oxen;
Crumbling, crooked walls;
No bed to carry that pain,
And then, the child,
Rag-wrapped, laid to cry
In a trough.

Who would have chosen this?

Who would have said: “Yes,
Let the God of all the heavens and earth
Be born here, in this place?
Who but the same God
Who stands in the darker, fouler rooms
Of our hearts

And says, “Yes,

Let the God of Heaven and Earth

Be born here –

In this place.

A Falling Star

2010-07-26T06:09:00.000-07:00

My beloved country is dropping from its place of pre-eminence like a meteor. Over the past few months, I have felt the peculiar sensation of watching and being unable to prevent a nasty fall.

Michael Medved once wrote, "America is bizarrely blessed." He was right. For decades our crops never failed. There was abundance in our homes and our lives. Our innovation was unparalleled in the world. People from around the globe wanted to live here in freedom, security, and plenty. Even the poorest among us have clothes to spare and cellphones, for heaven's sake.

Recently, though, it's plain to see that the crown of blessing has been removed. When I woke up this morning and saw this report, I trembled at the implications of it for our military and our security. It's one more piece chronicling our tumbling decent on the world's stage. Never mind that the leakers themselves owe their freedom to those they put at risk. If we lived in a different nation, they'd be carting rocks around in the gulag right now.

Perhaps that's closer than we know.

Jeze-Bill

2010-07-26T05:18:00.001-07:00

Back in March, Edmund and I accepted delivery of 21 chicks. We ordered hens—pullets, the chicken-before-the-egg scenario. We dreamt of their lovely eggs-to-be, and cleaned a lot of foul mess from wherever they roamed. Remember? Here are the fruits of our labor.
Pretty, aren't they? Yum! They have richly-hued golden yolks that stand up firmly in the pan, and we're getting a nice variety of colors. The white ones you see above are for contrasting ours with extra-large store eggs. Ours are tiny because our hens are still so young.

Somewhere along the way, one little miss became a bully. She'd peck at the others, boss them around, and pull their feathers out. She was turning into the most beautiful of the bunch, but was undoubtedly the wickedest. Edmund and Lucy dubbed her Jezebel after the beautiful-yet- evil Biblical queen. We wondered what to do to tame her. We put her in time-out. We tried to calm her down. By mid-June, she was a full head taller than the rest. Could it be that she was a he?
At the end of June, Jezebel let out one tortured crow followed by a clear "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" and we knew for sure that "she" wasn't. All that bullying suddenly made a lot more sense, and we began to look for a new moniker. Ahab? Eggburt? Jeze-Bill?

For the record, we still call him Jezebel. The way he treats his harem, I think he deserves it.

Read through the Bible three times a year.

2010-05-21T10:20:00.000-07:00

For many years, I have used a one-year Bible reading plan. I've done a number of them, but my favorite was a chronological plan dividing the Bible from Genesis to Revelation, in the order in which the events occurred. There are other chronological plans for reading through in the order the books were written, or reading chronologically from both the Old Testament and the New Testament simultaneously, but I really enjoyed starting in Genesis and ending in Revelation, reading the applicable psalm or prophet while I read through the historical books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles.

Reading straight through the Bible gives you a good sense of the Bible as an entire book, cohesive from start to finish. It boosts your understanding of God's plan and puts everything in context. Unfortunately, I tossed my favorite plan when I started the Old Testament/New Testament type of chronological plan, and I foolishly never saved a copy to the computer.

This year, Peter decided that he wanted to try B90X. We began in January. He finished, I didn't. At present, my goal is just to finish a day ahead of Peter on his second time through. I consistently only have time for 10 pages of the Bible a day, not 12, so I get discouraged and occasionally I skip days. That really messes me up, so I decided to create my own 120 day plan. My Bible is 1196 pages—easy to divide, and I ended up with very few split chapters.

I am happy with it, though eventually I hope to put the psalms and prophets in their correct places in the historical narrative.

You can download it here. Happy reading!

Somethings Just Take Time.

2010-04-06T06:56:00.000-07:00

The garden is tilled, hilled, and partially planted. Now we just wait. Fortunately, the start of one project is the end of another. I am so glad the chickens are enjoying the great outdoors.

Pretty flock, don't you agree? The bonus is that they are used to being handled now, and gentle enough to interact with as needed, making clean-up an easier proposition. This week, we are moving their run to a more open area beside the garden in an effort to better protect them from coons and possums.

I hope we'll add some bees in the next month or so. Stay tuned. (I love Spring!)

A Good Friday

2010-04-02T06:13:00.000-07:00

We're a fairly informal bunch at my house. We've been celebrating Christmas this week. Today we move on to Passover, and Sunday it'll be the Resurrection.

No, really, I'm not trying to create confusion in my children. I have my reasons....

The Christmas season crept up on me too quickly in December. We decided to go on vacation the second week, and the next thing you know, we were unwrapping gifts. I promised the kids we'd set up the Christmas tree at some point, so we did—last Friday. Over the past week, we made gingerbread, sang a few carols, and read the Christmas story.

Today they are putting the finishing touches on their gingerbread houses, and tonight we celebrate Passover. I've always wanted to, and Good Friday seemed as good a time as ever to have a seder meal. I'll use the lamb shank for our Resurrection Day meal.

The truth is, I love this time of year. It was 19 years ago this weekend that I understood the cross for the first time. I remember the moment it became crystal clear. My friend Kevin was singing a Don Francisco song called He's Alive, and suddenly it made sense to me that God opened the door to heaven through Jesus' death and resurrection. It took about three weeks before I asked God into my life for keeps. Before and since then, I have seen his mighty hand moving powerfully in my life and in others' lives: marriages put back together, illnesses healed, the Prince of Peace bringing peace to confusion and turmoil.

I love this season and the God it celebrates. Why not put it all together and focus on who He is, from beginning—the God of creation, of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses—to end? I am so grateful we serve a risen Savior.

Broken or Crushed? Your choice.

2010-03-29T06:34:00.000-07:00

"And whoever falls on this stone will be broken; but on whomever it falls, it will grind him to powder."

—Matt 21:44

When Peter and I lived and worked in Mozambique, everything seemed to end up opposite of what we hoped and expected. Our infant son faced death a few times, our co-workers were having troubles, other missionaries were bickering, and our sending church had no experience being the sole support for long-term missionaries. It was a toxic mix. I look back and see myself bracing for the repeated onslaught, stiffening myself against the impact of the events of life, and becoming angrier and angrier at God for getting us into the mess in the first place.

He did "get us into it." There was no doubt in either of our minds that God put us exactly where we were, for whatever reason, I couldn't say at the time. From a decade down the road, his hand is evident in all of it, but at the time, all I saw was a rock coming down to crush us.

Instead of running and falling on the Rock, I ran away, fearful of it. Instead of taking all my trouble to God, I sought solace in other places, and became more bitter. I could have had a tight relationship with my Savior because I was willing to fall on Him, instead, I spent about five years after Mozambique forgiving Him and another few years until I was ready to give up my will to Him again. All told, I missed a decade of my life as God intended it to be. How different it would have been had I only been willing to be broken.

The options we are given are not attractive either way to our human minds. But Jesus is insistent that these are the only two responses available to the one who encounters the Chief Corner Stone of life: fall on Him and be broken, or stiffen against Him and be crushed. Remember that our Rock is also the Potter—He has a plan to remake you into a vessel for His honor. Choose well.

Shark on Wheels

2010-03-28T13:57:00.000-07:00

The pinewood derby went off well earlier this month, and though Edmund didn't place, he's number one in my book for creativity. Here's his entry:

21 Chickens in My Bathroom.

2010-03-28T13:31:00.000-07:00

It's true. There are 21 hen chicks in my bathroom. They've been there since the beginning of March. This is what they looked like then.

Aren't they cute? Isn't the newspaper CLEAN? They were so easily cared for way back then, four weeks ago. Such fluffy little creeters.

This is what they look like now.

They require multiple water changes and destroy the newspaper as soon as we lay it down. Eventually, these gals will be laying beautiful eggs: some brown, some speckled, and some even greenish-blue! In the meanwhile, they'll stay in their cage atop my bathtub, making quite a racket until their feathers grow in and they can move to their permanent digs outside. And I? Well, I content myself dreaming of their future eggs, with deep yellow yolks and lovely shells.

Torture

2009-06-17T07:29:00.000-07:00

I read this article today—after watching this video—and the thought struck me that for all our self–flagellation in the US press over the torture that occurred at Abu Ghraib Prison at the hands of US troops, we don't really have any sense of what torture is. There are many places in this world where imprisonment means a life of bitter torture—not just extreme humiliation.

Of course, neither is right. I am not excusing what happened at Abu Ghraib. However, there are people in prison today throughout Near-, Middle- and Far-Eastern lands who are suffering not because they attempted to hurt others, but because they dared to ask questions or to believe that God exists and reigns above all earthly masters.

Michael Medved once wrote that "America is bizarrely blessed." I concur that it has been. However, both the article and video unmask what can happen when a country sheds the conviction of 'old fashioned' ideals—such as a belief in absolute truth, a sense of right and wrong, honesty as a virtue, and acknowledgment of a loving God who sees all, who knows all, and who is over all.

As we cede the compass of our nation over to those who do not agree with the principles upon which it was founded, I think we must make a close inspection of those nations which have attempted to deny God altogether and replace Him with an alternate supreme ruler or political party.

Think it sounds like an unrealistic and remote possibility here in the freest nation on earth?

Don't count on it.

Signed, Sealed and Delivered

2009-05-22T18:18:00.000-07:00

...at long last!

"Two army officers from the Middle East stood at the altar of a church with their arms raised to heaven. Tears streaming, each began a simple walk with their new friend and Savior, Jesus Christ. The path would lead one to presumed martyrdom, and both to new life.

It happened in San Antonio, Texas...."

Read the whole thing here. I am so relieved it's DONE!

And the Winner is...

2009-05-11T04:07:00.000-07:00

...Bug-Eyed Bob.

We also had a lot of votes over at a message board I frequent. My favorite vote was this one:

I feel very badly for half-eaten Harry because he's gotten no votes at all and he is obviously a true victim of someone's lack of pancake control. Since we can't judge a book by its cover, I don't feel that we can judge him by his outward appearance. Furthermore, he must be the tastiest one of all. So Harry, you have my vote!

My second favorite comment was this one:

....my dh [dear husband's] name is Bob, looks just like him.

But the one *I* like best is Curly Chris because he's such a cheerful little person, just like the sweetie who made him.

Thanks for your participation!

A Contest!

2009-05-08T16:48:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the fact that I finally finished a project I worked on for two and a half YEARS...
and to celebrate the fact that because I finished that project, my self-imposed blogging exhile is over...
and to celebrate the fact that we endured some incredibly dicey storms and lived to tell about it....
and to celebrate the fact that in the meantime, Lucy had a birthday...
and to fulfill a promise I made to Lucy on said birthday...

I hereby invite you to judge a contest we had in honor of little miss turning a whopping eight years old. We agreed that we'd let you choose the winner of the birthday pancake contest and duly abide by whatever you decide.

Here goes:

Our first entry is Half-Eaten Harry. The creator of Half-Eaten Harry got a little hungry before someone remembered the camera.

Our next entrant is Curly Chris.

And finally, here's Bug-Eyed Bob.

Ready, steady, go!

Do You Want to Be an Ac-TOR?

2009-04-03T07:22:00.000-07:00

Well, my kids don't. But they read decently, so they were tapped to be narrators in a play about Esther recently put on at church. You can watch it here, on Rebecca's blog. Her kids had three major parts, and mine did the reading.

Be sure to turn off her music application in the side bar.... Enjoy!

To Be Absent From the Body

2009-03-25T11:01:00.000-07:00

Joyce Olivia Young Shelby, March 17, 1947—March 19, 2009

When my son was born, she held him before I did.
My daughter bears her name, J-O-Y.
She loved me through the toughest season of my life.
Without her, I wouldn't be the person I am today.

She was unflinchingly honest,
elaborately generous,
unfailingly gracious.
She kept her word.

She loved with her actions and her prayers.

Her last status update on Facebook read, in part, “ I may be leaving you very soon.”

Too soon.

She was our spiritual mom and godmother, mothering us over the miles and though heartaches.

She ended nearly every conversation by reminding me that Jesus was coming back soon, saying “Tonight would be good.”

She is missed, but not for long.

To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.

She lived her life “present with the Lord,” and we are better for it.

We interrupt our silence...

2009-02-18T17:27:00.000-08:00

Life has been a little hectic lately, what with ice storms, power outages and so forth. I have a back log of things I want to blog about, but all that will wait for another day.

Today, I want to introduce you to the prayer wheel tool I use to keep myself on track during my quiet time. It's very simple, just a reminder of twelve things or ways to pray every day. I don't know who came up with it—my pastor gave it to me and I use it gratefully. I have a notebook handy for what hits me from my reading and prayer. I also tuck in a piece of scrap paper, and if I get knocked off my concentration by things I need to do that day, I just jot them down and move on. I've been practicing this for nearly two months on a more and more regular basis, and I thoroughly enjoy the effect it's had on my life.

As a bonus, you get all the references I looked up and scribbled into my notebook, plus a peek at my high tech methods. *grin* I hope it helps someone!

This was never intended to be a political blog.

2009-01-25T22:17:00.000-08:00

However, I have two things to share.

The first is this article by Gerald Warner in the UK Daily Telegraph.

The second, I will blog about later in the week—after I snap a photo of the spectacle.

*sigh*

She Who Would Valiant Be

2009-01-21T20:08:00.000-08:00

(A Hymn for Rebecca by John Bunyan, 1684)

He who would valiant be ’gainst all disaster,
Let him in constancy follow the Master.
There’s no discouragement shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent to be a pilgrim.

Who so beset him round with dismal stories
Do but themselves confound—his strength the more is.
No foes shall stay his might; though he with giants fight,
He will make good his right to be a pilgrim.

Since, Lord, Thou dost defend us with Thy Spirit,
We know we at the end, shall life inherit.
Then fancies flee away! I’ll fear not what men say,
I’ll labor night and day to be a pilgrim.

Note to self.

2009-01-09T17:32:00.000-08:00

When performing science experiments, it is important to keep up with them.

...or...

Seeds do not sprout unless they stay moist. For days. On end.

...or...

Dried out paper towels are not conducive to studying much of anything.

An atheist Speaks Truth.

2009-01-03T09:52:00.000-08:00

This Times (of London) article is an interesting read about missions work in Africa. I'm posting it here courtesy of Zero Updates, who posted in on FaceBook but not on his blog.

Back to Reality

2008-12-31T07:50:00.000-08:00

I don't know why the holidays got out of control for us this year, but they did. I cut out many things to make room for other things.... We cut back on the shopping. We did not send cards, nor did we attend a slew of parties, but I still felt pressed and harried. Getting the flu the Sunday before Christmas didn't help much. *sigh*

The day itself came and we had a nice time. Lucy decorated a cake to read:

and we shared a chuckle over it as we sang.

It was good fun, but I was simply relieved to pack up the tree on Saturday and get back to school on Monday. I think next year I'd like to skip everything and go to the beach for some real R&R. (Hence the WW post below.) We took a wonderful vacation to St. George Island, FL last May. Today I am wistful for the sand and surf and extended, relaxed time with Peter, Edmund and Lucy.

Next year I want to chuck Christmas completely and go snorkling.

Is anyone with me?

Wordless Wednesday: If You Give a Kid a Cracker, There's No Telling Who Might Follow Him Home

2008-12-31T07:38:00.000-08:00

The Advent Conspiracy

2008-12-13T19:45:00.000-08:00

I initially passed this along to a few friends after The Animator's Wife added it to her blog. Then said friends added it to their blogs and credited me, so I figured I'd give the credit where it is doo (as my sister-in-law says) and post it here fer real.

Thanks, Sarah!

Santa's Geographical Conundrum

2008-12-10T06:55:00.000-08:00

Edmund has decided that it makes no sense for Santa to be from the North Pole.

Let me backtrack a bit. This morning at breakfast, Lucy offered up the tidbit of info that reindeer come from Russia, and therefore Santa Claus must be Russian. This led to a discussion of how reindeer roam in Alaska, Canada, and Scandinavia as well.

Edmund thought a bit and declared the South Pole far better suited for the jolly old elf. After all, he reasoned, the North Pole is water and the South Pole is land.

Makes sense.

Now then, should global warming affect the North Pole so drastically that Santa's digs break up and float southward, will anyone rescue him from his iceberg as he floats by, waving for help?

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-10T06:53:00.001-08:00

Wordless Wednesday

2008-12-02T19:55:00.000-08:00

More than Conquerors are We!

2008-11-29T15:12:00.000-08:00

I did it! I attacked my e-mail inbox and got it down to one screen's worth. I can see it all without scrolling down. It took me 3 days to archive or delete over 2000 messages.

I am thrilled with this happy turn of events and thought I'd tell the world. Now if I can do the same thing to our home office, we'll all be rolling in flowers. :-)

Interesting Articles

2008-11-23T19:25:00.000-08:00

Here is a report from The Guardian on a fascinating study about time invested and expertise, or what it takes to reach the top of one's field.

Well worth the read!

Wordless Wednesday

2008-11-19T08:35:00.000-08:00

Racism or Cultural Divide?

2008-11-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

"I never thought this would happen in my lifetime."

This is a sentiment I have heard echoed time and again from various representatives of the African American community. By the intensity of the emotional response to Obama's election, I think it's fair to say that this historic event has been a cathartic experience for many Americans.

This election season, I was a little miffed at being called a racist because I didn't intend to vote for Barack Obama. After all, I have fundamental differences of opinion with him. It is possible to disagree regardless of the hue of one's skin.... I am a Caucasian married to a brown man. My children from my own womb are not rosy colored as I am, but I love them for who they are, not what they look like. The suggestion that those of us who weren't voting for him were racists just irritated me.

In the past 48 hours, however, it seems to me there has been a sweeping away of the collective demons of racial divide in our society. I'm glad for this, despite the fact that I wish it were Condi Rice taking up residence in the Oval Office next year.

The thought occurred to me, however, that perhaps the separation African Americans have felt in our country in recent history has been, in part, a cultural separation. Before anyone derides me for this, please realize I am not minimizing racial attacks. Nor am I minimizing the blood, sweat and fears suffered by those who fought long and heard to gain equal rights since slavery began in our country in 1619. Our family has been in the uncomfortable position of having racial slurs yelled at us, and I have felt fear for my children and husband as a result. I am not trying to say that this doesn't exist. All I am saying is that if an entire nation elects—by majority—a man of color, we have to recognize that our differences are no longer primarily racial.

My melanin-enriched husband tells me he doesn't sense any day-to-day discrimination, nor is he treated as if he is rejected on the basis of race. He does, however, feel as if he lives on the outside of most social circles. He was not born in the USA, and didn't grow up in the context of our culture. We had numerous cultural barriers to cross within our marriage as a result. He has said repeatedly he feels like a man of the world, belonging neither here nor there.

It just makes me wonder how much of the "racial" divide is not as racial as it is cultural nowadays. Echoes of Africa and African culture still persist within the African American community. Could it be that what has been traditionally attributed to racism could partly be a natural, normal, and very real tension between two cultures?

What do you think?

Wordless Wednesday

2008-11-05T07:34:00.000-08:00

In Pursuit....

2008-11-03T19:59:00.000-08:00

...of the most successive jumps on a pogo stick.

Edmund got over 200 the other day, a bar set high by Lucy. He did her one better by multitasking—phoning Gramma while jumping.

That's okay, Lucy had other fish to fry.

What good is living in horse country if she doesn't get to ride?

Bugs.

2008-11-03T19:30:00.000-08:00

I'm not a real fan of insects, but Edmund thinks they're marvelous. I am glad someone does, because this world needs exterminators, and entomologists fit the bill—like this guy, author of the blog Yucky Nasty Bug Facts. Check out his videos, they're an 8 year-old boy's dream.

Anyhoo, I thought I'd post a couple of insect pictures from this summer. We had a lot of cicadas, for some reason. I thought they were only supposed to show up once every 17 years, but we've seen them every year since we moved to Kentucky. They make quite a racket.

Here is one, just out of its shell, hanging on the side of our chicken coop:

Here's a crane fly, on our kitchen table:

Sometimes I feel like we run a Bug Motel or Insect Hostel around here, what with the creatures we have showing up at the hands of Edmund. I can't complain too much, though. They are easier to deal with than the snake he left coiled up "resting" on a board in Lucy's room about three years ago.

What about you? Is there something you do for love that you wouldn't normally, if you could help it?

Osmosis: An Experiment

2008-10-31T11:00:00.000-07:00

Did you know you can remove the outer shell of an egg, leaving a membrane which is tough enough to hold? It is also permeable, thereby letting air and water through.

We did this experiment sometime ago, and it was interesting. Thought I'd post some pics for your intellectual edification—or whatever.

Here we go.

Step One: Take an egg, and drop it in vinegar. The vinegar will interact with the calcium in the outer shell, dissolving it and leaving a membrane. We used apple cider vinegar because we didn't have any of the other stuff.

See the bubbles? Maybe not. Well, trust me, they are there! The shell bubbles off over the course of a day, and soon, you have a shell-less egg. Edmund has it here in his right hand, and an untampered-with egg in his left.

We did this to two eggs, then measured them carefully.
The larger of the two, we put into a thick sugar-syrup. The smaller, we put into water. Eggs are mostly water. If the membrane allows for osmosis, the larger egg should shrink as the water inside it escapes into the syrup, trying to bring the two into a state of equilibrium, until as much water exists inside the egg as outside it (in the syrup). The pores in the membrane are too small to allow the sugar to get inside the egg.

The smaller egg should remain unchanged, as the water in the glass and the water in the egg are pretty much the same amounts.

Here we see day one. They look about the same. The water is on the left and the syrup on the right.

Now here is day two. You can see the egg in the syrup, this time on the left, looks wrinkly and shrunken, while the egg in water on the right, looks normal.

The larger egg shrunk by about a centimeter, but I didn't get a picture of the measurement. You'll just have to trust me on this. Then we stuck it back in water and it reconstituted itself. It was fun to watch the water come out of the egg and form a halo around the it, between the egg and the syrup.

Then we threw it out on the compost heap. An ignoble demise for such a useful educational tool, don't you think?

Dentistry 101

2008-10-31T10:53:00.001-07:00

Lucy had a wiggly tooth and wanted it out, so Edmund tried to help. The effort was unsuccessful, and we all waited another day before seeing success.

Ahhhh. Sweet, isn't it?

Man's Best Friend

2008-10-31T10:46:00.001-07:00

Meet Isabelle, our newest family member. She thinks she's a kid, and gets lonely if she's left out of the fun.

Here is Isabelle being the fun. She doesn't look that enthralled, does she? Hmmm.

Seen at Our House

2008-10-27T05:41:00.000-07:00

Large Hadron Rap.

Ichabod

2008-10-25T07:18:00.000-07:00

"And she called the boy Ichabod, saying, 'The glory has departed from Israel,' because the ark of God was taken...."
1 Samuel 4:21

As this dismal political season grinds on ad nauseam, I can't help but wonder if our once great country has the word "Ichabod" painted across its portals in large neon lettering.

I am an American and a patriot. Two watershed experiences shaped me in this way. First, at the impressionable age of 18, when most young women go off to college and experience more freedom than they have ever known, I flew to a Muslim country to live with a local family for a year as an exchange student. My rights and freedoms were voluntarily curtailed, and I gained a new appreciation for the freedom that was mine as an American woman.

Second, when I returned home from my year abroad, I was not quite ready to go to college. Instead, I joined the United States Air Force as a linguist, planning to take advantage of the GI Bill for my university tuition at a later date. I learned in four years of wearing the uniform how much the men and women in our armed forces sacrifice their own freedom to guarantee ours.

I was stationed in South Korea during the first Gulf War. Most service men and women are sent on a couple "unaccompanied" overseas tours of duty—without their families and for no noble purpose other than it is time to do their rotation. Nowadays we point to Iraq and Afghanistan and shake our heads over the separations and dangers that these families face for our sakes. Such separations have happened for years, though, albeit on a more limited basis. In my mind, there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the assignment for many of these men and women. Mothers were shipped off from their families, fathers sent from theirs, for an entire year. One family I know took years to recover from those twelve months without Dad because of what was happening in their family at the time he was sent. They needed him at home, and he couldn't be both places at once.

What struck me in these situations was that, for the men and women who served, orders were orders. They voluntarily signed up for the military, and they were fully prepared to do what was asked of them, despite hardship on all sides. They did and do have my full support.

Given these two shaping factors of my life, I suppose it's not unusual for me to be a bit more sensitive about what I see are the eroding foundations of American life as I know and love it. Last year the kids and I studied early American history with some intensity. I was deeply impressed by the commitment our forefathers had to freedom, particularly freedom of religion. We are English speaking Americans (as opposed to German or French or Spanish) because a handful of people wanted freedom so badly they were ready to risk everything for it. It could be argued that some had nothing left to risk.

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."
—Jim Elliot (American missionary killed in the jungles of South America)

Jim Elliot was writing about giving up his life for an eternal reward, but we might apply it to the first freedom-loving Americans in that they gave up the known to embrace an unknown for which they turned out to be horrifyingly under-prepared. Nevertheless, they persevered to win freedom for future generations. We see echos of this a century or so later, when we began to fight the Revolutionary War. Death was preferable to bondage, and the cry went forth from Patrick Henry's lips defining it for all,

"Give me liberty or give me death!"

This reverberated through the years, and by the time of the great westward expansion, men and women went in droves to establish new lives for themselves with not much besides hard work and time. In book after book, we read how our land was built on drops of sweat and perseverance (and, unfortunately, upon the lands of noble people who didn't understand private ownership—but that's a post for another day).

It's interesting to note that underneath the hard work, there was faith. It was faith that drove the Pilgrims to the Mayflower and the New World. It was faith that motivated the patriots in the Revolutionary War. It was faith that accompanied many of the first pioneers, like Aunt Clara Brown—whose faith won her freedom from slavery and whose sweat turned her into the wealthiest woman in the West.

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.
Romans 5:1-5

The men and women who built this nation lived the above passage. I just don't see it happening today. A man from Brazil once commented to me that a full belly has done more to hinder the Gospel than any other thing. I am inclined to agree with him. Prosperity and ease have lured us away from faith and hard work. Events including and following September 11, 2001—for example the tragic loss of our space shuttle over Texas, the mortgage debacle and the resulting financial earthquake—lead me to wonder if ICHABOD is not emblazoned over our beloved country.

The land of the free seems to have become the land of the addicted, as people sit upon their couches channel surfing, or at their computers gawking. The home of the brave looks like a nation with its head in the sand or a group of children with their fingers in their ears singing "LA LA LA LA I can't hear you!"

Like the Pilgrims, we are ill-prepared for the winter we now face. I am no prophet, but I see only two options out of our current mess. Either we sign on for hard work and personal sacrifice, or we beg our leaders to be our saviors as we slide down the bank of eroded freedom. Collectively, we don't want to do the hard thing. Practically, we're already crying on the bank.

The glory has departed.

Hope Defined

2008-10-24T23:11:00.000-07:00

But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.
Philippians 3:20-21