A Very Nearly Tea

Since both Becca of Time Well Spent and the little Snoodle over at Snoodlings expressed curiosity at what I did in fact receive for Mother's Day, I thought (contrary to the thoughts I had yesterday on the topic) I might as well give in to the peer pressure.

At 7AM, the alarm went off, dragging me from my sleep. I realize that many out there might think that is sleeping in, but I beg to differ. First off, I'm a bit of a night owl and secondly I have another alarm, one that came with no doze button whatsoever, that wakes me up at 2, 4 and 6. Anyway, back to the 7AM alarm. It was calling me to start my 7AM meds to dripping into my arm. After sorting out the tubing, I pulled my little Mudpuppy close to me and he nuzzled into my embrace without waking.

This, predawn nursings and all, is way better than sleeping in.

Then it was time for the whole morning rush as I readied five young children for church, on my own and with no lifting of children. Doctor's orders on that one. And the drive to church. Thirty minutes of "discussions" with my son about how to behave in Sunday School. He was tired of them and sat staring out the window, mumbling answers to my scenarios. Frankly, we share in that sentiment, but until he is no longer exasperating his teachers on a regular basis, they will be a part of our llittle routine.

Then pick up. Mouse comes out hiding something behind her back. I catch a glimpse of yellow construction paper. A card she didn't have time to finish in class and somehow won't find the time to finish at home, either. From Bear, a flower. And words from his teacher.

He did great today. No problems at all.

The words were like music to my ears.

Until I turned around just in time to see him racing around the corner with little Mudpuppy in the stroller. Leaving Mouse to look after L.E. Fant and unsure where Bug had gone, I went after him. Oh so slowly. Being off the crutches is great, but it hasn't made me any faster.

If only I hadn't been so enthusiastic about finally being off crutches that I decided to take everyone to church on my own.

If only Bug hadn't needed to go to the restroom.

If only the other mothers who had recently dodged the stroller-turned-race-car didn't smile and wish me a happy Mother's Day in such an empathic way.

Finally all buckled into the car, I wanted to cry. Not so much because both Bear and Bug had darted off. Not so much because there was a certain feeling of helplessness at knowing this likely would not have happened if it weren't for my hip.

No. It's more that Bear had done so well in his class. I wanted to praise him. Let him know the nice things the teacher had said about him. Maybe even let him call daddy to let him know what a good day he had in Sunday School. Instead, I heard myself saying,

You will not be allowed to play outside today. Not only did you run away from me, but you left the building. That isn't safe.

He and Bug both grounded.

Boy was that a mistake.

Have you any idea of the volume...the sustained volume...two stir crazy children can attain in a small house? Wind sprints up and down the hall. Literally bouncing off the walls. And screaming. Screaming. Oh, the screaming.

And that seemed to set the volume for the house. Mouse came in to ask me a question and I had to remind her we were in the same room. Less than a foot from each other, in fact. Yet my ears were ringing.

They had more energy than the 900 square feet of this house could contain and it was coming out of their lungs.

And I was tired. Tired from lack of sleep. Tired from the recovery process of this hip infection. Tired of the noise.

And hey, what's this? What a thoughtful Mother's Day present!


No, no, no. Not for the children. The thought never crossed my mind. Taking it myself only crossed my mind once because it worked so well in the hospital and I have a full bottle and I've not taken any since I got home. Not even one.

But we did eventually make it through to bedtime. My least favorite days. The ones where I find myself monitoring the clock, counting down the hours...then the minutes...to bedtime. To quiet time.

But we made it. And I read to them. And I told them each how much I love them. And I prayed for them. And little Bug looked up, her wild curls flitting every which way as her eyes sparkled in the dim light from the laundry room.

Happy Mother's Day, Mommy!

Then she nestled down in her blankets with one of those happy warm glowing kind of smiles that expresses nothing but love and security and contentment.

Motherhood is not an easy task. It can be tedious, frustrating, seemingly thankless and even overwhelming. I know I am nowhere near doing everything "right," but all too often I'm not even sure what the "right" thing to do is. But then there are these moments, peppered through every single day.

Moments that can be easily missed. Moments that are like honey to the soul.

And suddenly it was a wonderful Mother's Day.

1. After pondering a bit about what to do for Mother's Day, I stumbled across the big plans over at Michael's to lure welcome us into the store while they entertain our wee cherubs with a craft meant for this special holiday in the life of every child. I let my children vote on which event they most wanted to attend and the vote was unanimous: the Saturday beading event. Which leads me to the first thing I won't be getting for Mother's Day:

See, Mouse realized this beading event wasn't simply stringing "I Love You" on a band with alphabet beads. No. This was "real" jewelry that someone might actually want to wear for some other reason than "my kid made it."

I can always make you a card, mom.

She said as she claimed her project. Young impressionable Bug followed suit. And the alphabet beads look better on Bear and L.E. Fant anyway.

So no jewelry.

2. My kids are all for taking me out to eat.

But moms are free at Valentino's on Mother's Day. We can afford to take you out.

Yeah, and who's going to pay for their hungry little mouths? And who's going to be pulling her hair out after trying to corral five children in a line the length of the Missouri while listening to "Barry, party of nineteen. Smith, party of twelve?" And knowing that these tables are not going to be turning very quickly?

So no dining out.

3. And actually, you can go ahead and scratch off breakfast in bed. (Please no one try that again.)

4. As well as taking over the preparation of any meals. Voluntarily, at least.

5. I read somewhere that Americans are expected to spend over a billion dollars in personal services such as spa treatments. A spa treatment is something I could maybe go for. Except I'd probably go crazy trying to sit still and do nothing that long. Not sure I like the idea of someone scrubbing off the top layer of skin and replacing it with mud. It's cute on this guy.


But not so much on me. And a pedicure? Eek. There's a reason I don't wear flip flops or sandals.

So no spa treatment.

6. Then there is this wild notion flying around out there that mothers get to sleep in this one day every year. Ha! This little guy...


...innocent as he may seem, will in all likelihood be sure that not only do I not get to sleep in, but that I don't really get much sleep between bedtime and his first breakfast. He's just like a hobbit, he is, with is first and second breakfasts, followed by tensies and elevensies...

So no sleeping in.

7. Shannon of Rocks in My Dryer has a quick little list of things to avoid getting your mom for her big day. I'm not really in danger of ending up with any of it, but I take issue with the "if it requires plugging in, don’t buy it" rule. I love things that plug in. Especially this.

It plugs in. And it has way cool attachments. You know, for all that sausage I've never gotten around to making. Who can go without a mixer you can make sausage with? I'll take it for Mother's Day, my birthday, Christmas and even Valentine's Day since red seems to be the in color. One gift to cover all of this year's holidays. What a deal.

And it is unlikely I'll be getting a mixer, or anything else requiring an outlet.

8. I did recently buy a book: The Frogs and Toads of North America. It even came with a CD of frog songs. You know that was all about me and had absolutely nothing to do with homeschooling. I could take the "Did you really need it?" without any further comment as a Mother's Day gift, but then again, I ordered it. Not that wives don't occasionally order themselves presents on their spouses' behalf.

So, yeah. No books, either.

9. Someone on craigslist says goats make a great Mother's Day present. Now I could definitely picture a couple of these running around our new property.

But while hubby seems mildly receptive to my banter about chickens, geese and fruit trees, he is of yet rather uninspired by the thought of goats. Except when he is looking at the amount of weeds and brush that needs to be cleared. The moment soon passes, but I hardly count that as a hint at goats any time soon.

So no goats.

10. Slugs. I can say with a certain degree of, well, certainty, that I shan't be getting any slugs. Or rousing games of Pin the Tail on the Slug. Or slug cards. Or slug posters. I may get some dandelions, but I won't be getting any slugs. The crown is cool, though. Maybe I should institute that as a new tradition to remind me that breaking up squabbles, flushing toilets after other people, and closing the same drawers seventeen times a day does have a much higher purpose.

One that isn't so focused on me.

God Bless and Happy Mother's Day!

For more Ten on the Tenth posts, check out Life at 7000 Feet!

This post isn't meant for young children. I don't know why any would be reading this blog, but I thought I'd throw that out there.

There is a bit of debate out there about exactly what ghosts are, if they are and what it all means. For what it is worth, I believe there is something out there. Evil spirits one should not be communing with. And because it is that season, I thought I'd share my own ghost story and leave it open for your interpretation.

It scared me half to death and I think you will see why.

When we lived in Ft. Wayne, we lived in a house with occasional strange goings on. Most were explicable...but consistent enough that we could not help but wonder if something else was there as well. I'm sure everyone has had the experience of turning the light out in a room only to discover later that the light is still on. It is an eerie sensation, but most of the time I am sure the real cause of the light's persistent "on-ness" is that you only thought you turned out the light.

But it happened a lot in that house, and centered on one room of the house.

And I'm getting chills up my spine. I think I'll think about something else for a moment.

Like the lady bug hibernating in our house. I'll write about him more later, but I think he thought he found a good spot to stay until he met the children.


I can get through this. Really I can. So there were the lights. And my mom calling my name. Very distinctly. Except when I answered, she didn't know what I was talking about. Or worse, sometimes she wasn't even home.

Oy, there it goes again. Have I ever told you how much I love windmills? That is why I have them plastered all over my other blog. And in almost every online profile I've created. Actually, that is a pretty funny story worth telling, too.


But first I have to get through this one.

The worst, however, was the stairs. We all heard the footsteps going up the stairs. Slowly, somewhat labored and quite distinctly. They were not like the footsteps of anyone else in the house. If you have stairs, you know what I mean. You know who is on the stairs by the sound of their step.

But these steps didn't belong to anyone in our family. And late at night, lying in bed, I would slowly count as they mounted the stairs one at a time. Complete with the creak on the fifth stair. Something was coming upstairs. Something always made it to the top of the stairs. Something always turned right, took two steps and then my door would shake.

Alrighty then. I am freezing cold. I think I'll go get a sweater. And turn on a light. Do you think the kids will notice if I raid the candy they got at church on Wednesday? Chocolate. Mmmm, is chocolate a pleasant distraction. Except I think they are all out of chocolate and there just isn't a point to the calories if it isn't for chocolate. So I'll be good.

Anyway, my brother, being my brother, was very annoying. One day, I couldn't take it anymore. So I went up to my room and locked the door. My brother, being my brother, didn't care about locked doors. He beat at it with a toy until he broke a hole through the door and busted the doorknob.

Great. Now my door only sort of closed.

And that night as I huddled under the blankets, I heard the footsteps slowly mount the stairs one at a time. Complete with the creak on the fifth stair. They made it to the top of the stairs. They turned right.

Except my door didn't rattle. It just swung open. And I was paralyzed with fear. I couldn't scream. I couldn't even breathe. I just sat there, clutching my blanket, too terrified to move.

But there was nothing there. Nothing at all.

And now I'm supposed to go to bed? Why did I just do that to myself? Have I told you how cute our baby gerbils are? Today, Kit Kat was lying on her back in her nest and we got to watch her nurse them for awhile. It was a special little moment. She is quite a devoted mother. So I guess I will leave you with that. And the recommendation to have read this early in the day in case you get like me about these things.


Actually, ghost stories don't bother me that much. Problem is, this one isn't just a story.

Halloween ghost story

Given the topics I normally choose to address, I would like to offer you a well-thought out essay on American liberties, the importance of securing and defending those liberties and the fact that it is our personal responsibility to do that.

Instead, I'm going to leave you with just one thought. And it isn't even my own. Please remember that my husband is Australian because it will make more sense that way.

Why do you celebrate your independence by supporting China's GDP?

Well, I don't know. Maybe because not enough of us own cannons to go blow them off on the Fourth? And banging on garage doors only goes so far? At least we are supporting them in their historic area of expertise. It's not like we've moved our fireworks plants off shore to take advantage of cheaper labor. And, um, well. I've never thought of it like that before.

Happy Independence Day!

Oh, and come on. Someone out there has got to want $20 in free team mascot stuff. Please go over to Jennifer's site and pick it up. It isn't hard. If she had Aussie rules stuff, I'd be all over this.

Independence Day, 4th of July, fireworks

We weren't planning anything in particular for Father's Day since my husband wasn't even going to be home. He left in the wee hours of the morning and shall return sometime tomorrow evening. That's what life is like when you are married to a railroader. He comes and goes with the trains. No schedule. Little secured home time. And plans are futile since they most likely will be interrupted. Does that make him a bad father? According to an article appearing in Time Magazine, it just might.

The folks at Hallmark are going to have a very good day on June 17. That's when more than 100 million of the company's ubiquitous cards will be given to the 66 million dads across the U.S. in observation of Father's Day. Such a blizzard of paper may be short of the more than 150 million cards sold for Mother's Day, but it's still quite a tribute. What's less clear is whether dads--at least as a group--have done a good enough job to deserve the honor.

I thought it a little telling that the programs I stumbled across on the radio this past week were dominated with the message that Americans are bad fathers.

I certainly do not defend the fathers who have divorced and walked out of their children's lives, defaulting on child support and failing to make contact. But at the same time, it seems that we have spent at least one generation telling men that we don't need them. We have stripped the family down to the "nuclear family," thereby removing many of the positive contributions that the extended family makes to the survival of the family. Divorce has been made easier and more socially acceptable. Its effect on children is pretty universally accepted, but that rarely seems to be offered as a motivation to stay together. After all, isn't it better for the children to live with the effects of divorce than the effects of living in a home where the parents do not get along?

And then there is that group of fathers to which my husband appears to belong.

Even fathers in intact families spend a lot less time focused on their kids than they think: in the U.S. fathers average less than an hour a day (up from 20 minutes a few decades ago), usually squeezed in after the workday.

I'm not sure when else our fathers are to be spending time with their children. Since the advent of the industrial revolution, most work outside the home. Since the sexual revolution, a good many mothers do as well. The bonds of family are being broken, and we are being told it is good for children. After all, they need that socialization offered in a quality preschool program to be successful in school, right? A lot of mothers these days are not spending much more time with their off spring.

I do think involved fathers are very important. And that involvement through provision alone is not quite enough. But my husband's decision to take a position which could support his family because he wanted someone home with the children hardly makes him a bad father. For seven days, he comes and goes. For three days, he makes the most of the time he has with his family. But he has made sure that his children are raised by someone who loves them more than life itself. Despite the insanity of his schedule, he has given them consistency, permanency and love.

Everyone is forced to make sacrifices in this world. But are those sacrifices for our own interests or those of others? I think that might be a better measure of whether fathers are worthy of the honor bestowed upon them this one day out of the year.

Clipart

Father's Day, parenting, fathers

I've always had a measure of old-fashioned American patriotism, and I was actually quite shocked when I realized citizens of other nations don't necessarily share such sentiments about their own nations. But the summer of 1994 was the first time I remember feeling a strong sense of pride at my national heritage and the principles upon which our nation was founded. I was in a small suburb of West Berlin, just a brief walk from where the Berlin wall once stood. I opened up the Berliner Zeitung to find a full page spread thanking the American miitary as they prepared to withdraw from the American quadrant. America's military presence had been continuous and visible since 1945, but we had never treated Germany like an occupied country. The harrassment, violence and even rape suffered by East Germans at the hands of the Soviet Union was unheard of in the American sector. Heartfelt memories of the Berlin airlift were shared. My friend's parents told me of their fear when the Soviet Union first closed off Berlin. And tears welled in their eyes as they told of the arrival of the first packages. As America, an occupying military force, prepared its withdrawal, the people of Berlin thanked us for establishing and preserving their own liberty.

We are a nation founded on the guiding principle that "...all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness..." our national symbols are symbols of liberty--the liberty tree, the statue of liberty, the liberty bell and the Declaration of Independence. We have long been a beacon of liberty to the world, proclaiming:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Und einen guten Rutsch!


Each year, Sydney, Australia leads the world in New Year's celebrations since it is one of the first major cities to ring in the New Year. Their massive fireworks display over Sydney Harbour attracts over one million visitors, not to mention the television viewers watching the fireworks hours before their own celebrations begin. If you want to know when everyone else is celebrating New Year's compared to your own time zone, try this handy time zone converter.

One of the earliest New Year's celebrations is believed to have occurred in Mesopatamia around 2000 B.C, around the vernal equinox in mid-March. Other cultures celebrated their New Year at different times, including during the fall equinox and the winter solstice. March 1 was the New Year in the early Roman calendar, back when it only had ten months. January did not become a month until 700 B.C. when Numa Pontilius, the second king of Rome, added January and February.

In 153 B.C., Rome moved the New Year to January 1 in recognition of their civil New Year. This was the day that the two newly elected Roman consuls, the highest officials in the Roman republic, took office for their one year tenure. Many continued to celebrate according to their custom on March 1, however. In 46 B.C., Julius Caesar introduced the new, solar calendar that was a vast improvement on Rome's old lunar calendar, and included on it January 1 as the start of the New Year. At least within the Roman world, the day began to be observed widely as the official New Year.

But the celebrations which accompanied the New Year were widely considered pagan. Medieval Europe, therefore, resisted the change. The Council of Tours actually abolished January 1 as the beginning of the New Year in 567. Instead, it was marked at various times in various places, including December 25, March 1, March 25 and Easter. Interestingly (at least to me) one date that really doesn't have any pagan attachment to it appears to be January 1, as it was a civil holiday rather than a religious one.

The Gregorian calendar reform of 1582 restored January 1 as the official New Year, and this was adopted almost immediately by the Catholic Church. Protestant Europe was a little slower, so most of the British Empire (including the American Colonies) continued to celebrate the New Year on March 1 until the reformed calendar was adopted in 1752.

Interestingly, one explanation for the origins of April Fool's Day is based on this discrepancy. Many cultures celebrated the New Year around the vernal equinox (March 20th or 21st), and much of Europe recognized the Feast of Annunciation (March 25th) as the New Year. When the Gregorian calendar was officially recognized by the pope, the Catholic world left this celebration, but the Protestants did not. Supposedly, there was a little chastisement...and anyone who hadn't gotten the New Year underway by April was surely a fool.

Some New Year's greetings from the countries I have visited:

en froh nee Johr--Low German (spoken in Northern Germany and more closely related to English)
Gott Nytt År--Swedish (the Å is pronounced like a long "o" in English)
Bonne année--French
Gelukkig niewjaar--Dutch
Godt Nyt År--Danish
Szczesliwego Nowego Roku--Polish
Feliz año nuevo--Spanish
Felice Anno Nuovo (or Buon anno)--Italian
and of course, ein gutes neues Jahr--German, or "einen guten Rutsch," which technically means, "a good slide." Don't ask. I don't know. The origins of the phrase are debated. Some see it related to Hebrew/yiddish (Rosh Hashana), but there is no yiddish or Hebrew formulation which wishes anyone anything in that manner. That doesn't necessarily mean that German couldn't have mutated it. Another explanation is that "Rutsch" is related to "Reise" which means "trip."
More New Year's greetings.

The information comes from infoplease.
The photo is from Wikipedia.

Related Tags: New Year, 2006, 2007, holidays

In honor of a New York tradition that is being revived this Christmas, complete with competition, I shall leave you with this beautiful fire burning until I return home. Should you stop by, please feel free to comment about any traditions your family shares.

My grandfather grew up during the Great Depression. For him, a good Christmas meant a new pair of socks and an orange. So every year, someone in the family receives socks for Christmas, a tradition that has continued and carries a little more meaning now that he is deceased. This year, my whole family got socks. So I guess it was a good Christmas. (My husband had to return home today, the 23rd, for work, so we opened gifts a little early.)

Related Tags: holidays, Christmas, yule duel, traditions, family

I find the theme of this carnival intriguing. If you feel that there is something amiss in the celebrations of the season, check out the Carnival of Hijacked Holidays, IV, the Christmas Edition. Or if you can approach such things with the intended humor. If not, you might not enjoy it, but if not, you probably don't read my blog because I would have upset you too much by now.


Due midnight, December 23rd are submissions for the Carnival of Christmas, which, like the holiday, comes but once per year. If you have some Christmas cheer to share, send it in. I'm thinking the carnival will be up here, but I'm not sure. At any rate, if I'm too busy visiting and feasting to update, you can keep track of the carnival here.

Loni over at Finding Joy in the Morning has a great carnival on Christmas traditions and recipes. MMM. I may have to print off a few recipes for later....

I couldn't find much on any of the other holidays of this time of year, and I'm not particularly keen on posting things which are directly pagan. Yes, I censor. It is my blog. But in general, I find all holiday traditions somewhat educational, and I always enjoy looking at different cultures. This isn't directly a holiday carnival, but is the thirteenth Kosher Cooking Carnival. Um, no latkes? Or did I miss them? Oh well, if you've never sampled this seasonal delicacy, you must. Here is the recipe we use. I knew of them as "Kartoffelpuffer" long before I realized the connection to Hannukah. But of course, Germans don't really connect Jewish heritage to their favorite food items. Even the good old bagel is sold as "an American baked good." And actually, the latke is a good demonstration of that bit about the oil not running out in the temple. You wouldn't believe how many more latkes you can make out of the dregs in the bottom that seem to cry out, "ok, this is the last batch."

Enjoy!

Related Tags: holidays, recipes, Christmas, carnivals

The holiday season is here again, and other than an awkward moment now and again at the store when I think the cashier isn't sure how to close the transaction, I haven't heard too much about appropriate seasonal greetings this year. Perhaps the story was killed last year. Perhaps I just lead a sheltered life. I don't mind being wished "Happy Holidays." Or anything else for that matter. I have been wished "Happy Hannukah" and of course "Merry Christmas," but I generally accept all kindly greetings in the spirit they are intended. It would be nice if those poor cashiers could wish me whatever it was in their heart to wish me (so long as it is civil, I guess).

I've gotten used to the commercialization of Christmas. Everything is commercialized these days. I don't really fault Wal-Mart for having their seasonal displays up months before the holidays begin. It is kind of nice for people like me, because things seem to be going on clearance right about the time I'm thinking about buying them. I do wonder a bit about those millions of other people out there that make it profitable for stores to put out their displays earlier and earlier each year. But that is another story.

What does bother me is Santa. Yes, jolly old "St. Nick." Consider the following.

Santa is omniscient.

He sees you when you're sleeping.
He knows when you're awake.
He knows when you've been bad or good,
So be good for goodness sake.

Santa is omnipresent.

He participates in every parade around the country this time of year. He is in every mall. He is in every other movie or television program. And of course he is at the North Pole getting ready for the Big Night. I don't know what to make of that, either. In January of 1990, Spy Magazine published an interesting study on this famous seasonal character.

Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each house, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house...(read the rest).

Now, we know from Clement Clarke Moore's description in his famous poem, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas," that Santa spends considerably more time than 1/1000th of a second at each home. So he must be able to visit more than one at a time.

Santa is omnipotent.

Every year, the kind citizens of North Pole, Alaska receive thousands of letters addressed to Santa from around the world. Santa's elves answer his letters, delighting children with an answer and the North Pole postal mark. Sometimes they ask for the impossible. Fully expecting Santa to answer their prayers.

In his 10 years as an elf, Gabby Gaborik has seen every kind of request. There are the children who want the latest toys and gizmos they see on TV. There are the children who ask for miracles, orphans wanting their mother back for Christmas or a father back from Iraq, even though he died there. Many letter writers point out how good they've been. Some enclose a dollar bill to cover postage.

And then there are those elves.

Santa's benevolent little helpers. Where do they come from? Most Americans think of elves as friendly little beings. After all, they helped the shoemaker in Cologne with his shoemaking duties, didn't they?

Not exactly. That was a mistranslation. Those good-natured souls were not elves at all, but gnomes. In the Germanic tradition, elves are generally evil. Impish at best. In fact, the German word for "nightmare" (Alptraum) is a compound word using an older form of elf + dream. The most famous elf is the "Erlenkoenig" (Elven King) immortalized by Goethe in his poem by the same name. And his presence is synonymous with death. In the poem, a father is racing through the night to save his young boy when the elf king appears. The king attempts to entice the boy to follow him, showing him earthly treasures and beauty. Finally, near the dramatic ending, the king says, "...and if you aren't willing, I will use force." And the boy dies.

To be fair, there is an interesting discussion regarding the origins of the title and whether "Erlenkoening" can properly be translated as elven king. The word has ties to some southern gods, which Goethe may have had in mind. The root words, however, are the same. I'm no expert, but I believe the whole Germanic tradition of the elf may very well have stemmed from these ominous bringers of death. Either way, they aren't the nicest guys for Santa to be hanging out with.

Have a blessed Christmas. Enjoy the time with family and friends.


Photo credits:

Christmas card, actually the world's first. Made by John Callcott Horsley (public domain)
Psychic Santa (cc license)
Rocket Santa
The Erlking (public domain)

Related Tags: Christmas, holidays, elves, humor

Elementary school students in a Virginia school district came home with an interesting flyer this week: an invitation to a Pagan ritual to celebrate Yule. Parents were understandably upset. The difficulty stems from a decision by the 46th U.S Circuit Court of Appeals in Maryland which concludes that if one community organization is allowed to distribute their flyers through the school, all nonprofit community organizations must be given the same access. We can evangelize paganism through our public schools so that the boy scouts can send home information?

The reasoning to allow flyers on a wide range of issues was that in the smaller schools, those facilities provide a core for the community, and to eliminate that as a "communication vehicle" could leave children without information about some opportunities they would have, schoolboard chairman Sue Friedman said.

This is the natural consequence of allowing the school to become the center of the community.
Fortunately, enough parents raised concern that the policy is supposed to be reanalyzed and adjusted. (Parents do still have some measure of influence in their local school district when they are upset enough to take a stand).

What I find interesting is the symbol at the bottom of the invitation. It is a symbol associated with Wicca and even Satanism. One of my education courses involved classroom management, and one of the things we were advised to watch for was the displaying of certain colors and symbols. The pentagram understandably was among the symbols to watch for, as per the Lawrence police department. An interesting dilemma to face a school district. Should a student come bearing this symbol in any form, he will raise suspicion. Yet the district is sending it home with students in their book bags.

In other Christmas news, second Advent is fast approaching, and it is time again to wage war on Christmas, a battle that has been raging since our earliest settlers. A new blog seems to have taken up the challenge of defending Christmas against the attack. Are they for real? The only reason I ask is that their first post appears December 6th, the same day another blogger suggested a parody site along the same theme. The site is amusing (and even references the blog suggesting the parody). That and the first entry. Maybe I don't get out much, but I'm not accustomed to people defending links in this way:

Some of you may not like the fact that it isn't written from "our" perspective, but I think it gives some good non-biased insight on what it is Conservatives are thinking in regards to this debate.

It appears to me a rather condescending manner to speak with one's readers, but perhaps I'm being overly suspicious. It should be interesting, at any rate.

Hat Tip: Education Wonks

Related Tags: Christmas, education, separation of church and state, war on Christmas, holidays

On Thursday, I talked about celebrating Advent using the Jesse Tree. I promised to document the making of our little ornaments for anyone interested.

First, we read Genesis 2:7 and discussed who the creator is and how man is unique from the animals. Then, to help us remember this, we made an ornament using Sculpey clay. In case you aren't familiar with it, it is basically a grown up version of playdough. I really enjoy making little things with it and we occasionally make things to go along with our lessons. When you are finished, you bake it in the oven and have a permanent little clay sculpture.

The clay comes in small squares divided into four rectangles. To make an ornament the size of those in the printouts from the previous entry, you will need one of those four rectangles. If you have never worked the clay before, or your child is going to be doing this alone, you might want to give them a little extra. (Or shrink the images to make smaller ornaments and use proportionately less clay.) Before making anything with Sculpey, you start by kneading the clay. This strengthens and conditions the clay so that is easier to work and it forms stronger bonds.

Then slowly begin pressing it into shape. Begin by pressing it between your fingers, then lay it on a flat surface and continue flattening it until it is the right size. You can trim the edges if you like them neat, or leave them rough like we do. Flip it over so that you have a smooth, flat surface on your clay. Lay the image face down on top of the clay. Rub with a spoon to ensure complete contact between the clay and the image. Press a small hole to string yarn through later.

Place in an oven at 275 degrees F for about 20 minutes. When it is finished, allow it to cool completely before removing the paper or trying to lift the ornament. It continues to strengthen as it cools. Then carefully remove the paper and string your ornament.

Then you just need a tree or a branch or somewhere to hang it to represent your journey through the Old Testament together with your child. Ours is currently hanging on a lampshade.

By the way, these make excellent little presents that young children can make. Photocopy pictures of them and follow the steps. Then you will have little ornaments with their precious faces to hand out to special people.

Related Tags: Advent, Jesse Tree, Christmas, holidays, Sculpey, homeschooling, crafts

The Advent season is almost upon us. "Advent" means simply, "important arrival" and of course refers to the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ. According to Webster's 1828 dictionary, it means,

A coming; appropriately the coming of our Savior, and in the calendar, it includes four sabbaths before Christmas, beginning of St. Andrew's Day, or on the sabbath next before or after it. It is intended as a season of devotion, with references to the coming of Christ in the flesh, and his second coming to judge the world.

One of the special things about celebrating Advent in particular is that it can help keep the focus on the Christ, and how the world groans awaiting for His return. Interestingly, the season of Advent seems to have more significance in Germany, where a plethora of activities take place and a number of songs specific to Advent are known as well as the most common Christmas carols. Now that Advent calendars are getting more commercialized and can be found containing chocolate and even legos, they are spreading in popularity even here in the United States. There is even one available online...and you can't peek, so visit begin visiting on the third to see what each new day brings.

This year, we are hoping to start a new tradition to bring some more focus on what the coming of Christ means to the world. Last year, we learned about the Jesse Tree, and decided to try it. The name comes from Isaiah 11:1, "a shoot will spring forth from the stump of Jesse, and a branch out of his roots." It is essentially a walk through the Old Testament to prepare the heart for the coming of Christ and give focus to the season.

In 1599, the words to a beautiful folksong, Es ist ein Ros entsprungen, were first published in Cologne, Germany which began with a paraphrase of the beginning of Isaiah 11. The English version is also good, and the site provides the melody. We will be learning this song this season, and we may learn the first verse in German as well.

The ornaments we will be making for our Jesse Tree follow a simple pattern. I will document the process and share it Sunday, but all you need are photocopies of the images you want to use, Sculpey modeling clay and some string to hang up the finished ornament. Images may be found here, under Jesse tree ornaments online (I'll include another link if I find ones I like better).

Print off the symbols then photocopy them (black and white).
Cut out the images (around the boxes would be best).
Knead a piece of Sculpey clay until it is soft and maleable.
Roll it out on a flat surface until it is big enough to hold the entire design.
Make sure the surface of the clay is flat.
Place the image face down on the clay and rub gently to make sure all parts of the design are in contact with the clay.
Poke a small hole in the top to hang the ornament from.
Bake in the oven for about 20 minutes at 275 degrees F.
Remove the paper after it cools and the image should be transferred.
Thread it and it should be ready to hang!

Are you planning anything special for Advent?

Related Tags: homeschooling, Advent, Jesse tree, ornaments, Sculpey, Christmas