Cha Cha Cha

Why do even nice hotels have cheap toilet paper? I mean, seriously folks, for the price they're charging, surely they could splurge for some Charmin.

We're in Little Rock, AK, tonight. Lord willing, we'll be in Chicago tomorrow night with our stuff delivered on Tuesday. Yee-haw. :)

Self Esteem

I found an article on self esteem at ThirstySoul.org. I particularly liked this passage:

Our problem, according to the Bible, is not self-esteem. Our problem is self. We are self-preoccupied. People with low self-esteem are the most self occupied people I have ever met. I know, I have been that person many times in my life. All they can think about is self, and that is precisely why they are so miserable. They worry if they do this, then what will others think. They worry that they are too ugly or too skinny or too fat or too dumb or too slow or whatever, the list could go on. The problem is, some people with low self-esteem are fat, ugly, or slow, or not brilliant. Can we at least admit this for the time being? The key to happiness is not dwelling on how good or bad I am. The key to happiness is dwelling on how good God is.

Of course, it's ironic that I found it the same day I posted about my weight and hair color. :) Just remember...

Philippians 3:13-14

Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. [NASB]

I Have Blonde Hair and I Weigh 120 Pounds

It's true. It says so on my driver's license. And as an official legal document, I think it should take precedence over any other evidence that might come to hand through such unscientific means as observation or scales.

My hair was a pale strawberry blonde when I was very young. As I got older, it seemed that my hair might begin to darken, but it never did. However, now that I've stopped dying it, things have changed. These days, it's become more of a dirty blonde, dishwater blonde, or dark blonde. But not light brown. Nope, it's still blonde.

And yesterday? THERE WAS A GRAY HAIR! I would have never known such a thing if I still dyed it.

I've been thinking about getting highlights. I believe that might make it more obvious that my hair is, indeed, still blonde. My husband asked me how I could justify dying my hair when we try so hard at living more naturally.

What does the word "natural" have to do with hair color??

But at least I still weigh 120 pounds. It's just funny how my 120-pound-pants no longer fit. Must have shrunk.

(Are you buying this?)

Ah, well. My high metabolism, my dearest friend through my early twenties, left me in a fit a pique after I had children. Not that I can be considered fat these days. However, maintaining a decent weight now requires, if you'll pardon the filthy language, things like exercise and eating right. I had a brief period of skinniness after boy#2 where people said things like, "You are too skinny," and, "I think you need to see a doctor." But, alas, those fine days are over now since I had boy#3.

But I don't despair because I have proof that I weigh 120 pounds. And if anyone argues about it, I'll sit on them.

Alright, Waterfall... Can you find a happier quiz? :)

Saint Exupery's 'The Little Prince' Quiz.
brought to you by Quizilla

The Pokey Finger Revisited

Oink Oink

My husband is a computer hog. We have 4 computers in this house, but only one has an internet connection. So I get stolen moments when he finally has to go to the bathroom or when he goes to bed at night. Hmmm... As a good wife, I should probably start making sure he has plenty to drink while he's at the computer... ;)

Our house is currently a pig sty. Well, it's not filthy, but it is cluttered. The movers will be here on Thursday to pack, and I've decided to just let them pack the clutter. That way, it will be all nice and contained, and I can start over from scratch at the new house.

And I've been a lazy pig. There are things that I should have done to prepare for this move. Instead, I started a blog, spent some time customizing it, redesigned my web site, visited friends and family, played at the park, etc. It's amazing how much I can accomplish when I'm trying to avoid doing something.

Books, Movies, and Music

I have loved the music on this CD since the first time I saw the movie. It's just beautiful and feels very peaceful to me. I seem to get music in a way that seems to escape me with visual art. Not that I'm knowledgeable enough to converse meaningfully about either, but that's okay. With music, I often respond emotionally. With paintings, I often respond with, "Well that's a pretty picture." Probably why I studied graphic art rather than art in college.

I enjoyed the movie as well. I've seen some very bad reviews of it--comments about it being PC, comments about how it doesn't follow the book, and comments about how the old versions of the movie were better. But I love it, and I've watched it many times. It's one of my three favorite movies based on a classic novel. The other two are BBC/A&E's version of Pride and Prejudice, which stayed remarkably close to the book, and the Gwyneth Paltrow version of Emma, which got some horrid reviews for NOT staying close to the book.

I'll admit, there was a time when I practically went through the book while watching a movie adaptation, disgusted every time the movie strayed. However, these days I just watch the movie. There was a part in Reading Strands which said (loosely, since a sleeping baby prevents me from looking this up) that there are always two stories--the one the author wrote, and the one that the reader reads. These stories are not necessarily the same. It's impossible to read a story, or to see a movie, without viewing it through the eyes of our own experiences. So now I try to view a movie as just a movie instead of thinking of it as an adaptation, and judge it without regard to how it compares to the book. It's just another interpretation, and not necessarily a wrong one even if my interpretation was different.

I haven't read Little Women since I was a child. I'm hoping to read it aloud with my son in a few months when we get to the Civil War. But I think I'll also take it off the shelf and read it again this week.

I Can't Wait for My Purple Hat

Age 3: She looks at herself and sees a Queen.

Age 8: She looks at herself and sees Cinderella.

Age 15: She looks at herself and sees an Ugly Sister (Mum I can't go to school looking like this!)

Age 20: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly"- but decides she's going out anyway.

Age 30: She looks at herself and sees "too fat/too thin, too short/too tall, too straight/too curly" - but decides she doesn't have time to fix it, so she's going out anyway.

Age 40: She looks at herself and sees "clean" and goes out anyway.

Age 50: She looks at herself and sees "I am" and goes wherever she wants to go.

Age 60: She looks at herself and reminds herself of all the people who can't even see themselves in the mirror anymore. Goes out and conquers the world.

Age 70: She looks at herself & sees wisdom, laughter and ability, goes out and enjoys life.

Age 80: Doesn't bother to look. Just puts on a purple hat and goes out to have fun with the world.

The Pokey Finger

Boy#3 has discovered his pokey finger and all the marvelous things it can do.

We can point with our pokey finger.

We can stick it up a nose, our own or sometimes mama's if we feel the urge.

We can poke mama in the eye, the ear, and/or the mouth. This annoys mama, especially when we poke in her mouth after we've been sticking it up a nose.

We can shake it at mama when she scolds.

We can turn the computer off when mama's on it because we're keeping her awake at 5 am.

The pokey finger is very cool.

The House that Uncle Built

My husband attended his uncle's funeral yesterday. Uncle and Aunt lived in the house that Uncle built himself about 20 years ago.

My husband talked to one of his cousins, one of Uncle's grandchildren. Uncle had been sick for quite a while, and during these last few weeks, he was having fewer and fewer lucid moments. Cousin said that he went in to see Uncle one day recently and Uncle was awake. It hit him that this might be the very last time he actually spoke to his grandfather. Uncle waved him over and Cousin walked to the bed, expecting a profound statement, expecting words of wisdom. Uncle pointed at the light switch and said, "Does that look straight to you?"

A perfectionist until the end. Prepare yourselves for Heaven, people. It may be getting remodeled.

It's good to find a moment of levity amidst sadness. Although we grieve for those we've lost, we can also celebrate the lives they lived.

Bookshelf

I think I'm going to cry.

Last week I finished the Orson Scott Card series that was loosely connected to the Ender series. This included the brand new book that recently came out in hardcover, Shadow of the Giant. While I was at the bookstore buying that, I bought book one of his Homecoming series.

I don't know why I did that. By the time that I was standing in the bookstore, I remembered all too well that with the exception of about three of his books, I'm just not that impressed.

But I bought book one anyway, and it was okay. I decided it had promise, so I bought the rest of the series last weekend. Realistically, I know I was taken in by the idea of a new series. It meant that I had four new books that I'd never read before.

It's awful. Just awful. I've read through book four now, and the idea of reading anymore... I just don't think I can do it. I have a hard time putting down a book once I'm a couple of chapters into it; it has to be really bad. And I feel the same way about not finishing a series. But, I think I've finally realized what I should have realized at book one--this series really is that bad.

Imagine, if it's not too painful, four books where the characters do not change. These books span decades. And in the end, you've got characters that still behave exactly as they did in the first book, when they were teenagers or in their early twenties. These books span decades, and I feel like I've read about Every. Single. Minute. Of. Those. Years.

And now the last book takes place in the far distant future. In essence, I've just completed a prologue that got way out of control.

I refuse. I am not reading this last book.

Where do you put all the books??

My husband is out of town, my children are asleep, and my current book can't keep my interest for more than 5 minutes. So I've been browsing the internet and watching HGTV because, yes, I really am that exciting.

So HGTV has these Decorating Tips commercials. Screen shot: an old bookcase overflowing with books. The narrator informs me that no matter how tempted I might be, this is simply not attractive. New screen shot: 3 nice bookcases side by side filled with chotchkies and a few books and lots of what graphic artists call "white space" (empty space); I have no idea what interior designers call this. This, I'm told, is the attractive way to dress a bookcase. And yeah, it looks nice, but...

Where do you put all the books?? I'm not sure that those 3 bookcases had all the books from the overflowing one on them. We have some serious issues with space for books, and we do not have room for more bookcases in our current house. Our last 2 homes had built-ins.

My son had a math word problem a couple of months ago that said so-and-so had X number of books. He said, "Wow, that's a lot of books." I said, "Not really; we have more than that." He said, "Really?" I said, "Uh-huh." And so I started counting, because he'd made me curious. How many books do we have? Our home library is probably a bit small by many homeschooler standards; I saw a post from a homeschooling mom once who said they had more than 5,000 books. I still drool when I think about that.

Since we were at the kitchen table, I started counting the books on the hutch, continued to the small bookcase that holds cookbooks and the Childcraft books that my husband had as a child, on to the other small bookcase in the one area in the living room where I found space for a bookcase, on to the books on top of the entertainment center, to the end table drawer where I keep my Bibles and Bible study material, into the spare room where many of our books are living on the three bookcases that I bought for $33 each 10 years ago that will not die no matter how many items that I actually like the movers have damaged over the years, the two paperback bookcases that are also in the spare room (one is in the closet), into the boys room for the bookcase on top of their chest of drawers and the bookcase in the closet there, and into the master bedroom to count the books on the dresser, the books crammed in both night stands and the ones on top, and the books that are on the window ledges.

We had something like 1147 books, not counting books that are packed in boxes for resell or charity, and the one box that I found that simply had never been unpacked. Of course, there's more now since we've been to the bookstore a number of times since then, and our Core 3 Sonlight box arrived after the counting. I think we probably passed the 1200 mark, but I'm no longer curious enough to count them.

And I really don't understand why bookcases filled with books are considered unattractive.

Just Because It Rises to the Top, That Don't Make It Cream

Pond scum sits on top, too. I won't lie--this entry is a rant. So you've been warned.

No matter what the belief, the group, or the cause, chances are there's some pond scum sitting on top. Extremists, fanatics, and plain ol' lunatics--there's your pond scum floating on perfectly nice water.

Take the pro-life movement as an example. As I've stated before, I am adamantly pro-life. For myself, and I daresay for most who consider themselves pro-life, the reason is simple: we believe in the sanctity of life. Period. End of discussion.

But here comes our pond scum. What do they do? Why, they blow up abortion clinics, often with people still inside. And so the movement becomes associated with actions that the majority would never condone. I haven't heard of anything like this happening in years. And yet, anytime I hear a pro-choice advocate speaking against pro-life, that person will often make comments such as, "Oh, sure, they believe in life, but they don't mind killing the people in an abortion clinic."

The pond scum is just on the surface, but it's all some people will ever see. "See how nutty they are?" the opposition will say. "Do you really want to be associated with them?"

Tonight I found some nasty comments about environmentalists after a reference to Pesticide battles on the rise in USA. According to some nutcases, wanting to protect the environment makes me a Communist. What kind of insane logic is that? I say, "Excuse me sir, but could you keep your poisons away from my children?" and that makes me a freedom-hating Communist who wants to break the backs of the capitalist pigs? Give me a freakin' break, people. Where are your heads? Oh, I get the connection all right. Being environmentally friendly costs more money, and to some people, it will always be suspect if a person believes that there are things more important than money.

And yet, I'm sure there's some pond scum floating right on top, obscuring the issues, pushing a different agenda, and becoming the perfect poster child for the opposition.

This Ain't My Usual Thing

If I can be said to have a usual thing after a bare month of blogging. But I found these two links at Happy Catholic and felt the need to share.

What Happened to Hell? And I think that title is self explanatory enough.

Pothead granny spared jail I'm still cracking up over this one. Here's the quote that keeps me giggling...

The white-haired, bespectacled granny was unrepentant, and said she would keep cooking with pot.

"I had it this morning in my scrambled eggs and I'll have it again for lunch. I'm not giving it up," she told Channel 4 News.

Enjoy your breakfast. :)

Personality Disorders

Apparently, I'm fairly balanced with Feeling/Thinking and Perceiving/Judging. I took the first one yesterday, and the second one this morning.

ISFP - "Artist". Interested in the fine arts. Expression primarily through action or art form. The senses are keener than in other types. 8.8% of total population.

ISTJ - "Trustee". Decisiveness in practical affairs. Guardian of time- honored institutions. Dependable. 11.6% of total population.

Take Free Jung Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

If you know me well enough to wonder why in the world I'm posting a blog at an hour that I've called uncivilized more than once, maybe I'll post about it later. If I can find my sense of humor, that is. For now, I'll just say Ick.

And yes, I realize that every time my husband leaves town, I get chatty and I start taking online quizzes.

Do you remember?

I remember years ago, sitting in our bedroom, and hearing my husband yell from the living room, "Kathy, we're on CNN!" A nasty little dispute between the ATF and the Davidians put the town of Waco into the limelight temporarily. We heard the jokes--Waco stands for We Ain't Coming Out--but the humor faded rather abruptly when the list of the dead scrolled down the screen, especially when we recognized a couple of names. Not friends, or even acquaintances truly. Wayne Martin, a local lawyer who ran a BBS back in the day when we logged onto a local system to make contact with our community instead of browsing the internet to make contact with the whole world. And the name of a survivor, a young girl who sometimes logged onto our BBS that I chatted with a couple of times, whose name I can no longer remember.

I remember years later, in another city, in another state, sitting at my desk and preparing to begin my work day when the secretary in the office next to mine and I heard a loud boom. What was that? A sonic boom? Thunder? No, the radio announcer soon informed us. The Murrah building downtown had been bombed. My husband later told me that it shook the windows of our house.

I remember years later, in the same city, holding my toddling firstborn, and watching the television as a small tornado combined with its brethren, as had happened many times that night. The result was a tornado that had a base of half a mile, and it wreaked havoc just 15 miles south of our home.

I remember years later, waking up late after a restless night with a fussy baby, walking into the den and staring at the television in confusion. The screen was split. On one side was New York, and on the other the Pentagon. But all I could really see was the smoke obscuring everything else. It was September 11, and we felt the shock waves across the country.

I remember being very young and crying after an assassination attempt was announced at our school. I didn't understand what was going on, but I understood that my teacher was scared and upset. I remember hearing about the space shuttle explosion when I was a freshman in high school. My husband had stayed at home that day and watched it live on television.

These are some of the big events that have happened in my lifetime, the events that connect us in a tangible way to our community, our country, and sometimes, our world--shared experiences that we never forget. Do you remember when...? Where were you when...? It's usually the tragedies that stand out so clearly in our minds.

And then there's the more personal sadness of losing loved ones. I remember visiting my great-grandfather in the hospital shortly before his death when I was 14. I remember sitting on the back of his recliner and putting rollers in his hair while we watched television when I stayed with them as a child, and I remember him lying in the hospital bed dying of the leukemia that the doctors found way too late to treat. I remember my grandmother calling and telling me that my great-grandmother had passed away. Another phone call, years later, let me know my grandfather had passed away that morning. I was getting ready to drive down to see him.

We lost another family member tonight, and it looks likely that we'll lose another within the next few weeks. Tonight my husband's uncle passed away. I didn't know him well, but he was a good man and well-loved. On the other side of our family, my great-aunt isn't expect to live much longer. I haven't seen her in recent years, but I have fond memories of her from my childhood.

So I'm sad tonight. It's not the overwhelming grief that comes from losing those closest to us, but the sadness of regret that we'll never know them any better, and the sadness of knowing that others that we care about are grieving.

Lovely Spring Days

We've had perfectly lovely weather here lately, so the boys have been spending quite a bit of time in the back yard with light sabers in hand. Warm sun, cool breeze, and the sound of a child's giggle after a particularly good thwack upside his brother's head. Life is good.

The force is strong in my little Jedis.

Deep Thoughts

Ya know, Robin is just a skinny kid with funky hair and some control freak issues. However, as the grown up Nightwing, he's a pretty hot cartoon character.

This Place is Dangerous

Roscoe is back in Chicago this week for work. He left tonight and took a cab from the airport to his hotel.

Cab driver: This place is dangerous.

Roscoe: It is?

Cab driver: Yes, these people are crazy. You have to be careful driving in Chicago. These people will run you right off the road!

Roscoe: Really. Where are you from?

Cab driver: Chechnya.

Christian Traditions Quiz

I have to admit, I'm still kind of scratching my head on this one. I specifically remember clicking the box for drinking and dancing being okay in moderation, which I thought went completely against the Methodist point of view. After the move, we'll be looking not just for a new church, but for a denomination with which we're comfortable. As you can imagine, this could make things very awkward if we tried to invite our new Methodist friends over for a beer. Perhaps I should just continue my research.

1: Methodist/Wesleyan/Nazarene (100%)
2: Church of Christ/Campbellite (82%)
3: Pentecostal/Charismatic/Assemblies of God (79%)
4: Anabaptist (Mennonite/Quaker etc.) (70%)
5: Anglican/Episcopal/Church of England (55%)
6: Baptist (non-Calvinistic)/Plymouth Brethren/Fundamentalist (55%)
7: Baptist (Reformed/Particular/Calvinistic) (52%)
8: Presbyterian/Reformed (52%)
9: Congregational/United Church of Christ (50%)
10: Seventh-Day Adventist (47%)
11: Eastern Orthodox (44%)
12: Lutheran (38%)
13: Roman Catholic (35%)

Christian Traditions Selector Quiz

Favorites

Here's one of my favorite faces (boy#2) and one of my favorite poems from childhood. :D

My Hobby
by Shel Silverstein

When you spit from the twenty-sixth floor,
And it floats on the breeze to the ground,
Does it fall upon hats
Or on white Persian cats
Or on heads, with a pitty-pat sound?
I used to think life was a bore,
But I don't feel that way anymore,
As I count up the hits,
As I smile as I sit,
As I spit from the twenty-sixth floor.

And if you think that face looks likely to perform that hobby, I'd have to agree.

Welcome to My World

Jack-Ass Award

This blog almost came to a complete halt the other day. I cannot tell you how much that About.com article upset me. Not because of what he said about me, but because I felt unable to really respond fully to what he said.

Why? Because I felt like I needed to take some kind of high ground, not lower myself to his level, and any other clichés that fit here.

But I'm just not that person. Not responding fully has made me not want to write on any topic at all. It made me want to go back to just keeping my thoughts to myself.

So welcome to my first ever...

Jack-Ass Award



Please understand that simply disagreeing with me does not make one eligible to win the Jack-Ass Award; that just makes one wrong. To win this award, one must make assumptions and behave in an asinine fashion.

And this makes Austin Cline of About.com my first winner for:

• Playing semantics games with the phrase belief system in order to better ignore the point I was making.


• Assuming that I know nothing about public schools because I homeschool my children. (Hello, where does he think I went to school?)


• Just being an idiot. Yes, Mr. Cline, telling students that evolution just happens does indeed support atheism.

The funny thing is, so many atheists seem to assume that all Christians want the public schools to teach about Christianity. Personally, I think that idea is absurd. After the way the public schools have screwed up teaching math, grammar, and history, I want them to keep their noses way out of religion. Just don't tell them that God does not exist, that's all I ask. Whatever else it is, atheism is not neutral, and it has not escaped my attention that most articles against Intelligent Design devolve rather quickly into "proving" that God couldn't possibly exist. So at least cut the crap and be honest. Atheists don't want Intelligent Design in the classroom because it goes against their religious belief, not because they're being neutral and scientific.

What have we here?

An anonymous poster left a comment with this link:

Blogsnark: Atheism Is A Belief System?

I have a couple of comments about this, but first, I'd like to say that I'm no longer allowing anonymous posts. I feel that if I'm to have a pet ass for my blog's mascot, then he should have a name.

The irritating thing here is that I started a blog as a place to post my thoughts and opinions. I truly expected no readers other than friends or perhaps other homeschoolers. Therefore, I expected, in the case that anyone cared enough about my opinions to comment upon them, that they would do so in a civilized manner. After all, this is a personal blog, not a newspaper article. Occasionally, I've read another person's personal blog with which I disagreed, and it prompted me to write my own blog entry on the subject. But I've somehow managed to do so without linking to his blog, implying that he's stupid, and leaving an anonymous comment to make sure he sees it. Instead, I simply focused on the subject and my opinions about it. So, as you can imagine, this person lost my respect before I even finished reading.

So, is atheism a belief system? I personally still believe that it is, especially when it's coupled, as it is in the public school system, with the belief in evolution.

However, rather than play games in semantics, I'll admit that Jessie Wise and Susan Wise Bauer stated it better in The Well-Trained Mind. They said:

Think about this for a minute. Arguing for the presence of God is generally considered "biased." Assuming His absence is usually called "neutral." Yet both are statements of faith; both color the teacher's approach to any subject; both make a fundamental assumption about the nature of men and women.

To call this neutrality is intellectually dishonest.

I'm not going to comment upon the rest of his ad hominem attack. As Southerners, we have a collection of phrases for just about any circumstance, and here's one my husband just mentioned: "If you wrestle with a pig, you're going to get dirty and the pig likes it."

I can't believe I just said that...

What did I say? I said, "He's right." That's it. But I have to admit, it blew my mind. I just agreed with a person that I would never have thought I could agree with on any issue.

A paraphrase of what he said... There are people who embrace the fetus [pro-life] who deny day care programs and other help for those raising children. And there are people who embrace Terri the person who deny long term health care.

And I agree, absolutely. We cannot say, "You can't do this because I believe it's an evil thing," but then leave people alone to deal with the consequences.

I just can't believe that I agreed with a statement made by Jesse Jackson. It made my head hurt and I had to get up and leave the room.

I am emphatically pro-life. I believe whole-heartedly that life begins at conception. And I don't understand the arguments to the contrary; a fetus meets the scientific criteria for life, and that life is undoubtedly human. Period. I would love to live in a world where each child was allowed to be born, and was cherished, and was raised in a loving home where one parent was able to stay home with the child. Wouldn't that be beautiful? But I'm well aware of the fact that that's not the world in which I live.

But why do so many embrace the fetus without realizing what that means? A child is the end result, and children need things. Sadly, it is not always possible for one parent to stay at home in today's world, and often, there is only one parent in the home, anyway. And the same goes in Terri's case. I am completely in agreement with not allowing a person to die when she could recover with proper care. But can we support LIFE, can we even say that we support LIFE, if all we can say is, "You have the right to life, but after that, you'll have to make it on your own?"

I see some of the programs that exist in other countries. In Bulgaria, mothers are receiving a salary for staying home with their children for the first three years. Civilized countries all over the world have some kind of health plan for their people. But here in the richest country in the world, so many support life only through their lips while keeping their wallets tightly closed.

And by now, it's probably obvious why I belong to neither politcal party.

The Best Blog Ever on This Subject

Go Fish

Here's the lobby at the hotel where we're staying. Those rails are for keeping people from falling into the fish pond that surrounds the seating areas. :) The boys are loving it.

However, Roscoe sighed rather loudly when I told him in my best (and loudest) hick accent, "Baby, I told you that we shoulda brought our fishing poles." sigh The man has no sense of humor.

The restaurant here at the hotel is called Tre Cena. I'm not sure what the exact Italian translation would be, but my 8yos and I recognized that both words are from Latin. Three and dinner, which is cool since there are three distinct parts of the restaurant. Whatever the exact Italian translation, we're feeling pretty pleased with ourselves.

Woohoo!

We have a house. :D And it's our first pick. We're renting from a couple who wants to try living downtown for a year, but they don't want to sell their house just in case they don't like it. Since we're hoping we can buy in a year, as long as it looks like we're going to be here for a while, this works well for us.

My biggest problem with rent houses is staring at white walls and being told that we can paint as long as we choose "neutral colors." Yeah, like I don't know that "neutral" means "beige" to most landlords. And what is beige? Dark white.

However, these people have some bold color choices. :D Roscoe is rolling his eyes at the dark purple master bedroom, but I like it. There's an upstairs office that I can use for my computer/sewing room that looks over the downstairs formal living area (which will probably be a library area for us). I have to admit that I'm very excited to have my very own room. :) Roscoe has to have his own office for work, but I didn't expect to find a house where we could each have a room.

Anyway, we are thrilled. It's a little more than we wanted to spend; however, we decided that we could complain once a month when we write the rent check, or we could complain every day (like we do now) because of lack of space/amenities/etc. We're all feeling claustrophobic in our current way-to-small rent house. It's a nice home, and yet it doesn't feel nice when we're all packed in there like sardines. It will be good for all of us to have more space.

There's a formal dining area that we can use for dining, and a second eating area in the kitchen/family room that we can use for school. Gotta love that.

Roscoe is downstairs signing the lease right now. So I'm sure you can all guess what we're saying tonight: Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Lord.

Home, Home on the Range...

The thing about house hunting in a strange city is that we know too little. In familiar cities, we know which neighborhoods are safe, and we have a good idea of price. And if we're not familiar with the neighborhood, the price tells us a lot about it. Simple, yes?

But in a strange city, we know nothing.

Two years ago when we were moving to SC, my husband was looking for rent houses for us so that the boys and I could join him. We set a price range based on his salary, and he grabbed a newspaper and started making phone calls. One house sounded perfect. It was at the low end of our price range, and yet it had the number of rooms and the square footage we wanted. So when he called, he asked the lady if he could see the house. She said sure, no prob. So he asked when would be a convenient time to meet him at the house. And she responded...

"Oh, I don't go down there."

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Our current house hunt seems to be going well--well meaning that we think we found a house today, and the neighborhood didn't scare us (although the price did). We're have 1-3 more homes lined up to see tomorrow just for the sake of being sure, and then we'll make a decision.

And by the way, did you know that there's a freakin' train right smack dab in the middle of the highway in Chicago??

But now I must go. It takes a lot of time to pick the straw out of one's hair, and apparently I'm not as done with that as I had thought I was.