Outside my window….it is windy and cloudy.  It rained in the night and we had some truly spectacular thunderstorms last night.  I think that Brutus and I were the only ones up to witness them.

I am thinking….about the inexorable march of time.  That was some high fallutin’ language to describe the fact that I am just thinking about how time has passed so quickly.  I got a message on FB this morning from someone I knew many years ago.  Her twins are now 9 years old, my how time flies.  I wonder what it says about my self-esteem that I was surprised that she remembered me.

I am thankful for…..the continued love and patience of my husband.  Will those qualities in his character ever stop thrilling and amazing me?  I had a whopper of a migraine yesterday, still he patiently cares for me and gently sees to my comfort until the pain is under control.  He doesn’t seem to get impatient with these things the way that I do.

From the schoolroom…..classes march on.  I continue to work on my two final papers for school and MK and I anticipate the upcoming new semester’s work.

From the kitchen….I smell the pancakes that Melissa is making for Matthew’s breakfast.  What a blessing she has been in our lives, beyond her cooking ability.  God has truly been good to all of us to send Melissa into our lives.

I am wearing…..shorts and a tank top.  It is supposed to be just as warm and muggy today as it was yesterday.

I am creating….completed projects in my sewing room in between bouts of writing in the schoolroom.  I am trying to clear off my UFO table so I can start something new.  (UnFinished Objects)

I am going….nowhere today.  It is Monday after all.  Anyone who has read me knows what Monday means around here.  Even with all the help there is always enough work for all the hands.

I am reading……I am rereading The Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad.  I am writing an analysis of that book for my Lit course.  I do not recommend that book to anyone.  I found it not only a difficult read but a depressing one as well.

I am hoping…..that my son has a safe journey when he heads north on Friday.  Can’t wait until you get here Sergeant!!!!!

I am hearing…..the fans trying to cool this barn of a house, Melissa working in the kitchen, Brutus snoring on the couch next to me, and the birds in the bushes outside the windows beside me singing their morning songs.

Around the house….there is much Monday work to be done, but at the same time there is a sense of unity and order about our Monday lives.  Each person goes through his daily dance as if it were choreographed in a divine theater.  All of the dancers moving about smoothly and with purpose as if they were set in motion and kept there by an unseen hand. 

One of my favorite things….sitting back and listening and watching as my family goes about their daily tasks.

A few plans for the rest of the week….the usual round of chores, two holy hours, anticipating the arrival home of our Sergeant on Friday.  One day this week Matthew and I will be taking his friend Andrew shopping at Barnes and Noble and out to dinner for his graduation present.  That should be a good time.

Here is a picture thought that I am sharing with you….

Yesterday morning we bid farewell to our beloved Father Morelle.  After his sermon he said a few words of good-bye to the congregation and assured us all that the priest who was taking his place was a good and holy man and we had nothing to fear in his guidance.  There was not a dry eye in the church.

Something that I hope never to tire of seeing.  Doug asleep on the couch with Layn sleeping next to him.

Ian resting after a long day of work holding Layn.  My men are truly family men.  Bet no one can guess that Layn rarely gets put down during the daylight hours.  That’s not spoiling, that’s loving.

In my last post I went on a rant about the ignorance that was shown to me by an individual at a party.  Then this morning when I started to read my daily meditation I came across the passage from the Bible that cautions all of us to “judge not lest we be judged.”  My conscience was immediately pricked and I went back and reread what I had written.  I really was upset when I wrote that judging by the misspellings and the bad grammar.

I apologize for any part of that post that may have been misleading to those who read it.  I was not judging the person in question to be ignorant, only his knowledge of English literature in general and the authors mentioned in particular.  Having admitted that he had not read those particular authors I could honestly say that he was in ignorance of their works since Hollywoods interpretation of most books is hardly true to the writing of the author. 

I do not believe in judging people or their motivations but I do indeed believe in judging their actions.  The action of this man, not familiarizing himself with the works that he has banned from his home classroom, then speaking against such works without knowledge of those works, is an ignorant action.  That was what I was speaking against.  I am sure that this gentleman is very intelligent in many areas, just not in this particular area.

Please excuse me my overly emotional tirade and any way that I may have mislead any of you.  I am truly sorry.

Today my family went to a graduation party honoring the son of a very good friend of ours.  The party was lovely and the young man who was being celebrated was much deserving of the honor being bestowed upon him.  His parents are proud of him and well they should be.  The should also be proud of themselves for the cooperation that they gave to God in raising such a fine young man.  They are not the ones with whom I have a beef. 

We have been to other parties at their home and have encountered most of the people who were there today.  While at the party I entered into conversation with a man that I had met before.  A gentleman with a large family who is also homeschooling his children.  As most of you out there know I have also educated my children at home, this is not a beef against homeschooling.  It is a beef against those who make statements against that which they have no real knowledge.  Against those who supposedly homeschool their children to protect them from something about which they have no knowledge or experience whatsoever and yet feel they are qualified to expound on such topics at great length.

This gentleman, upon finding out that I am studying to get my degree in English Literature, made the statement that in schooling his children he is “avoiding the use of so called classical literature in his family’s classroom because there is nothing of virtue to be found in it.”

He continued on to say that such authors as Charles Dickens, William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Victor Hugo, and Louisa May Alcott, wrote works that contained such shocking things in them that he felt it was a crime to expose his children to these works of literature, amoung others.

Rather, he and his wife insisted on using short, virtuous works written specifically for “Christian” homeschooler that each had a moral and told a virtous story that were far more uplifting for his children than what could be found in the “classics.”

Had any of my family been standing by to hear this being said to be they would have been cognizant of the red flags that were being waved in front of me.  I try my best to be a lady in company and to hold my tongue when, in ordinary conversation, folks say things that I find either irritating or ignorant.  But this was far more than even my self-control could stand.  Not meaning to offend my friends or to disrupt the party, I very quietly asked the gentleman whether he had read any works by any of the authors that he had mentioned.  Bet no one can guess the answer.

Not to leave anyone in suspense, the answer was no.  His only experience with any of the aforementioned authors was the viewing of hollywood’s interpretation of their work.  I then asked him what his definition of literature.  He said it was a story written in a book.  Nothing could have been farther than the truth.  Again, I mustered all the control that I could and proceeded to explain to him what literature truly is.  That the works that he uses, while not bad are merely stories written to prove a point or to capture the imagination for a short time.  Literature is much larger and deeper than that.  Literature is meant to develop not only the plot but the characters within the story.  That the whole point is not only to tell a story but often to bring the reader to a realization of a fact or a situation.  Literature is so much than just the telling of a story.

Finally, I tried to firmly, yet convincingly tell him that there is much to edify and teach his children in the great works of literature.  That by depriving them of Shakespeare’s Henry V he deprives them of one of the greatest speeches ever written.  The speech that Henry gives to his men on the eve of the battle of St. Crispian Day.  By depriving them of Hugo and Dumas he deprives them of some very in depth and insightful tales of the French Revolution.  By depriving them of the works of Alcott his daughters are being deprived of some of the most pure and beautiful romances ever written and his sons are being robbed of some of the best examples of how young men should behave.  The works of Charles Dickens are full of some of the greatest depth of emotion ever written and some of the most beautiful language set to paper. 

I don’t know if my impassioned defense of the great works of literature made a dent in this man’s mind but it sure made me feel better.  I cannot bear someone who speaks without knowing of what he speaks, especially someone who is, at the same time, giving homeschooling a bad name.

Outside my window…..it is cool and cloudy.  Alex keeps saying there is 30% chance of rain today, I don’t think that he knows what he is talking about.  Rain or not it is going to be our usual busy Monday. 

I am thinking….about how life is like the ocean with currents and tides and ebb and flow.  Probably not the most original of analogies but I like it.

I am thankful for…..my husband.  The patience and forebearance that he has shown to this very hard to live with wife of his is more than appreciated. 

From the schoolroom…..there is order and tidiness, for the time being.  I have two final papers to write and a final exam to take and then I am done with this semester.

From the kitchen……Alex is shelling the latest picking of peas, Melissa is washing up the dishes from breakfast, and I am sure that something delicious is in store for supper.

I am wearing…..grey shorts and grey tee shirt.

I am creating…..an environment that is conducive to peace and harmony…..I hope.

I am going…..to pick up materials at the library today and nowhere else.

I am reading……The Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad for school.  Not my favorite kind of read.

I am hoping…..Ian gets the weather he needs to make hay this weekend.

I am hearing……birds singing, Melissa and Alex talking, the new chicks chirping, the usual morning sounds around here. Oh, wait, I hear the sounds of the little prince waking up.  Must be feeding time in this zoo.

Around the house…..there is a certain sense of safety and security.  In spite of the little dips and bumps the happen every once in awhile there is always a pervading sense of home.

One of my favorite things….the orderliness  of my life.  The knowledge that what I expect to happen each day will happen.

 A few plans for the rest of the week….work on schoolwork, two holy hours, keeping the house clean and the laundry under control, and simply living our lives the best we know how.

Here is a picture thought that I am sharing with you….

Last year a little boy in my second grade religion class gave me this little rose bush as a thank you gift.  Not being much of a flower person (I grow food) I stuck it in the ground in my vegetable and told it it was on its own.  It is loaded with blooms and quite the loveliest thing in the garden.  Thank you Lucas, everytime I look at this little rose I think of you.

Melissa is back in the saddle again, literally.  Yesterday she spent quite a bit of time at the neighbors house riding Rocco.  She was one happy momma!

This is how the little prince likes to spend hot days, sitting in his chair with only a diaper on in front of a fan.  He had his check up last week.  He is above average and weighs in at a nice 12 lbs. and 13 ozs.

Mary-Kate’s cow, Hectic, had her calf this past week.  It’s a little heifer calf and mother and owner are both very happy.  Now we have more milk than we can handle.  This means that I have to get out the cheese making supplies and place an order for cultures.  Hooray for fresh yogurt, ricotta, cottage cheese, and mozarella.

Happy Father’s day.  There is a phrase that some bat about with little thought to its meaning or the significance of what they are saying.  What is it to be a father or to have a father or, as I have been so fortunate, many fathers?  I have come to understand that anyone can father a child but it takes so much more to be a father to a child.  I don’t say that to belittle the biological aspect of bringing children into the world, that is a significant thing, however in the world today children are being begatted, (if there is such a word) left and right with little or no thought for staying in it for the long haul.

My father was raised as an orphan.  When he married my mother he not only intended to stay in it for the long haul but he wanted a family, a big family, if that is what God wanted for them.  He and my mother were willing to be open to whatever the Lord had planned for them.  Coming from the man that my father was and is that is no idle statement.  Not only did my dad in effect say, “bring it on God” he knew what that meant.  My dad is a father not only in all that he did for us but, more importantly, in all that he didn’t do for us.  That is something that isn’t thought of too often in today’s world.  You hear a lot of young parents say things like, “I’m going to be the kind of parent that my parents weren’t,” or “I’m going to give my kids all the things that I never had, that’s why I am only going to have one or two.”  You don’t hear too many saying, “I’m going to try to be the kind of parent that God wants me to be.”  That is the kind of parent that my dad is.

Not only was my father a good father but he befriended good men who were good parents as well.  Why is that important you ask?  Because he knew that they would be influences on his children.

This man was another father that I had the good fortune to have as another father to me.  He was good to me in all that he did and all that he didn’t do.  He disciplined me when my parents weren’t around if I needed it because he loved me and them enough to do what was right.  He loved me and them enough to keep his language, actions, and home clean and appropriate both for his own wife and children and for my siblings and myself.  He took nothing from any of us.  Up until the day he died he loved my like my own father does and he never failed to show it to me in every way.

Edit: This is my other papa.  I didn’t have a picture of him and my father very graciously sent me this one.  This man is another friend who was more like a father to me than just a friend.  He loved me as he  loved his own daughters.  Right up to the last moment of his life he gave me his heart and treated me to the wisdom of his life and the kindness of his smile.  I will miss him ’till the day I die but I count him as one of my daily blessings.  Without him my life would have truly been less.

When my father handed me over to this man to love honor and cherish he gave me to a man that would carry on the values and discipline that he believes in.  This man who is the father of my sons and daughters loves and fathers as Gods wants a man to father.  His aim is not to give his children material goods and earthly happiness but rather the example of a man who loves their mother and them well enough to strive to follow the will of God each and every day.  He too seeks out men to bring into their lives who will carry on the example that he has set and uphold the standards that he has laid down.

This good man is another man that my father befriended, who is also friend to my children and husband who continues to set and example that is worthy of the title father.  Nothing less will do for his own children and grandchildren and you can tell that by the godly life that the man lives. 

These two beloved priests who have been in my life since I was very young have also been called father by me and all of my children.  They are the spiritual fathers of my family.  Their spiritual leadership is such a value to us that we know that as long as we follow their lead and listen to their teaching we can be sure that we are following the path to our Heavenly Father. 

A father is not only one who gives life but sustains it in both the heart and soul.  This kind of fatherhood is both the most important and the most difficult.  Thanks be to God for all of the fathers that have been in my life.  I know that they haven’t had an easy job of it.  I am thankful for their love and perseverance.

A line in the paper, a word from a friend, neighbor, a doctor, even a phone call can change a life in an instant.  Lately that seems to be happening with far too much frequency around this neighborhood.  A little while ago a dear friend called to say that a woman who has been a part of my life for the greatest part of my life died last evening.  Everyone has been waiting for this phone call for months.  Not only has it been expected and anticipated but it comes with a great deal of relief.  Brain cancer is nothing to laugh about and this lady suffered it with all of the dignity, grace, and peace that you cannot possibly imagine.  I am not a person to cannonize anyone because I don’t believe in that but if I were to do that, Grandma Teepell would be the one.

The brief conversation that I had with a young friend when I called to tell her family that Grandma Teepell had died has led me to contemplate grief.  While talking with Miss Grace we both acknowledged that her passing was a blessing.  Having just turned 85 and having suffered with cancer for months anyone would agree that the news of her passing should come as a relief to all who knew and loved her, that any tears shed are tears not for Grandma Teepell but for those left behind who will miss her presence in their lives.

Then I got to thinking about anyone else who dies, young and old alike.  The usual comments when old people die are about how they have lived long and full lives.  When young people die the comments usually run along a different vein.  “They had so much to live for, so much life ahead of them.”  This is all true but I propose that the tears shed are still not for the deceased but for those who have been left behind.  If the grieving are believers, believers in a life after death, in a God and a heaven and hell, than there is a belief that the deceased has gone onto something else, something better, or at least an uncertainty and a chance that by prayer and sacrifice, we who are left behind can assist those who have died.  If what comes after death is potentially better than life here on earth, why cry about all the life that was ahead of them?  Why grieve about the so much that they had to live for?  Instead, I think the tears are more for the grieving, those who have been left behind who are going to miss the deceased in their life.

I am not saying that this is a bad thing, I admit that at this very moment I am shedding not a few tears that I will be missing Grandma Teepell.  Rather I am trying to put this all in perspective.  I am trying to acknowledge that although she is gone from my life, that I shall no longer see her and be able to speak with her, I still have her in my heart and mind and that she is truly present there.  That the sadness I feel is something that I have control over and that I can overcome and that I can use to the good and to honor her with rather than simply use to feel sorry for myself.

Eternal rest grant unto her Oh Lord and let perpetual light shine upon her.  May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace.  Amen.

Since tomorrow looks to be a rather busy day I thought I would post this early.

Outside my window….it is cloudy and cool out.  It has been rainy all weekend.  I think that any rain deficit that we were suffering from is over now.  We have gotten over seven inches in the past week.  Not only are my gardens growing well but the weeds are thriving also.

I am thinking….how wonderful it is that my children get along with each other and with others when they come into our home.  MK, Matthew, Brett, and Melissa’s son Alex are in the kitchen making calzones.  Kim is on the couch working on her laptop, Ian and Melissa are putting the baby to bed.  Everything is peace and quiet.

I am thankful for….all the blessings that have been given to this family.  They are too many to count.

From the schoolroom…..all is in readiness for the coming week. 

From the kitchen…..the smells of calzones and hot wings are wafting into the living room and my stomach is beginning to wonder if my throat has been cut.  Today was girl day at this house.  We ladies watched a girl movie and the guys have been cooking for us.

I am wearing…..jammies!!!!  It’s comfie time for everyone in this house.

I am creating….a home!!!!

I am going….to get the house cleaned and the laundry done tomorrow.  Along with my schoolwork, picking peas, strawberries, and possibly weeding in the tomatoes if it isn’t too wet.

I am reading……The Heart of Darkness for my English Literature class.  Not the most fun read.

I am hoping…..that Doug and Jason get home safely tonight.  Jason’s car broke down on the Thruway on the way home from drill today and Doug had to go rescue him.

I am hearing…..the sounds of MK’s knitting needles clicking together, Kim’s keys on her computer, the guys talking together in the kitchen.  The sounds of family!

Around the house……each room in this house shows evidence of family and living in it.

One of my favorite things……being all together like this.  Family means so much to mean.

A few plans for the rest of the week……work, school, play, the usual.  All of the usual rhythms of a family.

Here is a picture thought that I am sharing with you…..

The summer that my daughter died some friends gave us a white rose bush.  Now every June during the week that she was born and died it starts to bloom.  It continues to bloom all summer long until late into October.  No other rose on the farm blooms that long.

Doug gave me a red rose at the same time and that begins blooming when the white rose does.  It only gives one dozen blooms each summer.  It has been 17 years but it has only ever given that many blooms each summer.

Dumb and dumber left today to become steak.  Everyone in this house is looking forward to the call that says that the meat is done and we can come and pick it up. 

Perhaps we will have a beef dinner that evening?

Yesterday Bricker59 wrote a post about the anniversary of the car accident that has left him in daily pain.  The story of that accident has also left him, I think, with a true and lasting appreciation for life, his own life and all that there is to get out of life, in spite of the pain that he suffers.  Also, threaded through many of his posts is the deep and abiding love and pride that he has for his two daughters who came through the accident unscathed, thanks be to God.

Yesterday was another kind of anniversary for me as well.  I know that Bricker can understand it when I say that there are days in your year that you cannot, no matter how hard you try, forget the date.  No matter how busy you are or how forgetful you may become that day comes around and it kicks you in the solarplexis and stops you where you stand.  Yesterday was one of those days for me, today also.  In my self pity and my remembrance I lashed out at Bricker in a comment on his post instead of being the friend to him that I like to think I am.  Let me first apologize for that.  It was not only uncalled for but the man suffers enough, it was selfish of me to land my pain on him.

Five years ago I went into my daughter’s room to pick up one of our foster children from her nap and found one live baby and one dead baby.  The rest of that day and the rest of that week for that matter are a blur of grief and pain for me.  Then next day, dealing with the police and the coroner, the agency and the accusations of the birth mother weren’t enough, it was also the anniversary of the day that my youngest daughter was born, the daughter that I never got to raise.

Do I tell this to get sympathy, no.  I not only don’t want it but it does no good.  I tell this as a scrap of thought for those of you who decided they will never have children or will never have more, “one or two are enough.”  The pain of those two incidents is still coiled like a live thing around my heart.  It strikes at the strangest and most inopportune of moments, but the joy of every child that I have raised, fostered, babysat or simply held diminishes that pain to a degree.  That joy lets me know that the pain that rests there on my heart is the balance that lets me know what joy really is.  One cannot know joy without first knowing sorrow.  One cannot know and enjoy health without knowing sickness and pain.  My life is three dimensional because of the children alive and dead.  It would have been flat, one dimensional, without them all.

Thanks Bricker for your kind words.  You are a true and kind friend.

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.  Happy birthday to Saint Vi.  Happy birthday to you. 

I baked you a cake but, as you can see Layn decided to use it for a chair. 

Have a great one.  You are one special lady and the whole world knows it.

Melissa turned those strawberries into two Strawberry Glace pies and Matthew baked four loaves of bread today.  There’s pork in the crock for pulled pork and this family is going to be living large tonight.

Matthew’s bread is making the whole house smell great.  It has been chilly all day long and that is a smell that I like to have on a day like today.  Wait until Doug gets home from work.

Melissa turned those berries into two pies and they are now chilling in the ‘fridge.  The house is full of the smell of pork cooking and bread cooling and I don’t think there is anything better to add to it.  (fear not Bricker there is plenty of beer in the ‘fridge too!)