Things I Learned on My Vacation:

1. Mosquitoes are evil.
2. When living amongst swarms of mosquitoes, teenage boys are apt to re-name cortisone sticks "Happy Juice."
3. Children are more likely to fight over homemade salsa than they are candy.
5. When subjected to a TV- and Internet-free existence, children may beg to play Yahtzee and complain they don't have enough time to read their books, what with all the swimming in the lake and Yahtzee-playing they are doing.
6. After teenage boys catch 'pet' frogs, they can spend happy hours with dimestore butterfly nets catching 'frog food'. One net was even pink, but you didn't hear that from me.
7. Country men manning a teensy Ace Hardware store that keeps its overstock in a barn covered with a tarp next to cages of rabbits are mightily amused at city girls asking for hula-hoop making supplies.
8. Ladies of size may be more easily able to hula hoop with a *giant* hoop. No joke-I thought my chest-high hoop would do it, but I didn't really get it until I made a five-foot diameter hoop. I would not have had to make that hoop had we been able to pack our hoops into the van, but it was packed so tightly we may actually have misplaced a child at one point.
9. Hula hoops tied to the top of a van make a LOT of noise at 70 mph.
10. If you have a dog and live on a hill, you will *never* need to buy a Stairmaster.
11. When locked in a van full of folks singing Justin Bieber songs at the top of their lungs, my camo-wearing, Bieber-hating son will give in and sing along.
12. Children (ages 10-16) who run through the woods, catch frogs and frog food, swim in the lake twice a day, and go fishing in a paddleboat take naps without complaining, or at times, even meaning to do so!
13. I need to move to Mexico, to a town where siestas are still de rigueur.
14. Most of my sleep problems appear to be due to stress. Except for the night before our return, I fell asleep when the light went out and slept like a rock all night long. Now I just need to figure out how to better deal with the stress in my life so that I can sleep well every night!
15. It's easier to learn dog names than human names. We met Snaps, Jake, Bruno, Oprah and Winfrey.
16. 10 year olds make excellent tour guides.

"I'm So Glad You Speak American!"

If you know me well, you know I hang out on the socially and fiscally conservative end of the spectrum. But anytime I hear someone begin to spout off about people needing to speak English, my stomach gets upset and my respect meter takes a dive.

Perhaps it's the four years I spent studying another language, or the time I spent in another country (where, ironically, people made a great effort to speak to me in English until they figured out I could speak Spanish). It could also be the 10 years I lived in the brown half of a fiercely divided town, the men I have dated from other cultures or, I don't know, my common sense?

"I'm so glad you speak American" is something I hear far too often from callers. It is twice as disgusting as the usual English-only crud I come across. One, because 'American' isn't a language (speaking of which....'America' isn't a country, either), and two, because I work for an international company. Yes, when you call, the person you speak to may have an accent. This might make you uncomfortable (well, no one ever complains about the Irish accents. Maybe because Irish people tend to be white?). But it is solely your problem. The company I work for hires the cream of the crop at any location and while there is an occasional linguistic mishap, in the year and a half that I have been doing my job, I have been impressed. It is not anti-American of us to hire outside this country. After all, we sell outside this country, and if one thing is sure, 'America' sure appreciates our prices.

I think what bothers me most is that this particular brand of xenophobia tends to be associated with people and things that I hold dear or believe in. But you want my opinion? Here it is!

It is prideful. English is not a better-educated, classier, richer, conservative, better-sounding or more useful language. You just think it is because you have been speaking it all your life. By the way--thinking they need to learn to speak English to deserve to live here? Um, you were born here about four years before you became a proficient English-speaker.

It is ignorant. Do you know what I hear the most often? The opinion that people come to the US and never learn to speak English. After all, everywhere you shop, someone is speaking another language! Why can't they just get it in gear and learn English anyway? Well, I have news for you: THEY ARE. It's kind of like saying, "Everywhere I go there are more teenagers! Why can't they just grow up already?!" The problem isn't that the teenagers refuse to grow up (that's another post entirely), but that every day, more kids become teenagers. Likewise, it isn't that people are refusing to learn English--every day, more non-English-speakers join us in the great Melting Pot. You are just too blind to realize that they aren't the same non-English-speakers you were so hateful with a year ago.

Additionally, if your husband were transferred to Germany and you moved there 60 days from now, would you speak German well enough to get around town and get your business done? I highly doubt it. Don't make demands on others that you don't make on yourself.

When I lived in a heavily Spanish-speaking area, I got great opportunities to speak Spanish. But there was always a vying for languages taking place. I wanted to speak Spanish, my neighbors wanted to practice English. One gal, determined to learn the language, but home with three young children while her husband worked two jobs, would watch TV with the subtitles on, to try and learn to read and speak English while folding the laundry or cooking dinner. One semester she was able to join an ESL class that our church started, but her hands were simply too full to continue. (What? You mean they weren't on welfare, sucking our tax dollars? Sigh) Trust me, it isn't lack of desire or diligence at work here!

It's historically inaccurate. You think people used to hop off the boat and dive into an ESL class? Think again. I have a friend in her 70s who didn't learn English until she went to school, and she was born here in the States. You and I? Our backgrounds almost surely contain travelers who came to the US with a Mother Tongue, and sadly, somewhere our families lost them! If you ask my son, I'm sure he'd tell you he'd rather have grown up speaking German than walk to the high school every morning to beg for that teaching. My great grandmother must have spoken it as a child, but my grandmother never learned. The English-only attitudes that abound are causing families in this country today to try to not pass down this heritage. How sad! I will also point out that many Native American people groups are losing their language...and they were here before any English-speakers!

It's a bully's tactic. Pay special attention, my homeschooling friends. Those attitudes we love to miss out on by keeping our kids at home? I hear them in the English-only mantras. Good gracious, we wouldn't want anyone to be unique or different, no, everyone needs to be the same! And if they aren't the same, well, then, they aren't as good as the rest of us and they don't deserve what we have. (Interestingly, when I was in Guatemala with Wycliffe I learned that almost always, when a culture does not have a written language of its own, the people both within and surrounding that culture view them as lesser humans. Do we want to make people feel that way?)

It's arrogant. We can demand this because we are the United States? Few countries have this kind of rule. France isn't a country we want to emulate, is it? Most governments recognize that more than one language is in use in a large population. Why can't we? The prevalence of English speakers worldwide is due to just a couple things--British occupations and US pride. It might interest you to know that people in India (oh, the dreaded call centers!) grow up speaking English. That would be the English that is even more English than our English, a result of England's occupation there. And then there are those who cater to us because their economy depends on our money (see 'bully's tactic,' above).

It's useless and pointless. Exactly what are we hoping to gain? Discouraging people from coming to this country? Making everyone just like us? Or do we just want to be more comfortable when we go to the Wal-Mart? What insecurity is this feeding?

And, finally, it is not Biblical.
Ezekiel 22:7b The alien they have oppressed in your midst ; the fatherless and the widow they have wronged in you. (here we go...oppressing foreigners is listed with such things as raping one's daughter in law)

Deuteronomy 10:18-19 "He executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and shows His love by giving him food and clothing. So show your love for the alien, for you were aliens of Egypt." (and here we have a reminder--if you are a Christian, then YOU are an alien here on earth, as well)

Deuteronomy 27:19 'Cursed is he who distorts the justice due an alien, orphan, and widow.' And all the people shall say, 'Amen.' (wait...you mean that doesn't say Justice was only due to them if they had learned to speak Hebrew by then?)

The entire book of Ruth (go read it, it's a good story anyway!)

I encourage you to put aside any patriotism that has morphed into pride, to make decisions based not on your personal comfort but on logic and biblical standards, and to open your mind and your heart to the joy that those who journey here, to be part of this great country, which was founded on the right to be different, can share with you if you are willing.

Yes, Boobs and Brains CAN Co-exist!

Verizon came to repair my line today. I called them on Saturday while it was raining to tell them that there was a problem (losing my connection to my employer is not a good thing). They said 24-48 hours but didn't show up until today (I did get three automated phone calls telling me how important I am, which makes that all better).

When the man came I explained that there must be some cracks in the insulation because the problems I experienced only happened in wet weather. He said he didn't see any problems, and I pointed out that it was sunny. He said I might have to wait for it to rain again. I said that was not acceptable and that I did call while it was raining and if he checked the line test from Saturday he could clearly see the issue. Mostly, though, he didn't seem to believe that I could possibly diagnose the issue. (awww, look at the little woman...she thinks because she spends all day talkin' on the phone she actually knows somethin' about it!)

Half an hour later he shows up at my door, proud of himself for discovering that there was some cracks in the insulation...no, really?

See, I am an old-fashioned girl. Well, not a girl anymore, but you get my drift. But old-fashioned doesn't mean Neanderthal, people! Yes, I usually wear a skirt and yes, I enjoy having doors opened for me, and it kills me that women have scared or cajoled men out of behaving like gentleman, but yes, I also am fairly intelligent and appreciate being taken seriously. Find the line between patronizing patriarch-ism and militant feminism, please, and walk it.

Our View of Ourselves

I was going through photos of myself as a child today. I kept saying, 'Oh, I was so cute!' and Nate kept looking over at the photos and saying, 'Gee, you look just the same.' And I would see photos of my mom and say, 'My mom is so beautiful!' and Nate points out, again, that I look just the same, LOL.

How does that jive? Although I have been redefining my view of beauty, and have come to believe that I am beautiful, I guess I still had myself graded pretty low...and looking at the pictures I was thinking I used to be adorable. Nate set me straight, I guess.

I have heard/read/seen women talking about themselves lately and it makes me so sad. One woman who hopes she can lose weight so her husband might finally love her, one who says she'll never be pretty but she wants to at least be thin, etc. I cry for women. We have a very low view of ourselves--all of us! We need to overcome that...and I have no idea how.

Murphy's Law, the Snow Day Corollary

States:
The day you get up at 4:30 to be showered, dressed and ready because your boss is doing home inspections, and your son gets butt-dialed and woken up at 6:15...is the day your boss is home sick and school is on a 2-hour delay.

Actually, since I have never been a public-school parent, we very nearly forgot to check for a snow delay and the kid almost walked to German class two hours early!

Verizon Still Sucks...but Tom Doesn't.

Had to call Verizon again today...more billing issues. *Groan* Blessedly, though, the person on the other end of the line was a man named Tom in Tucson. Tom is clearly the most intelligent person in Verizon's customer service team. He actually figured everything out, explained it in a way I can understand, and, most importantly, took care of the issues. He didn't even transfer me. Not once.

I love Tom. I hope he gets what he wants for Christmas. He deserves it.

My Magnetic Personality

According to my dad, I have a magnetic personality. No, he doesn't mean that I am attractive (although I am, of course). He means I break things. With the mere power of my presence.

Lately this has meant things like being stuck home with a nonstarting vehicle, no hot water and no clothes dryer. Dad came over to take a look at the car (after giving me an emergency ride to the doc's office...another long story) and it started right up for him. He drove it home, washed it off, called me to tell me I was imagining things...at which point the car quite working. See? All he had to do was talk to me while he was near the car and it quit! Then we hooked the computer up to it and drove all over town and it refused to misbehave-so we couldn't get a reading to figure out what is wrong.

The hot water heater's pilot light went out and for the life of me, I could not get it re-lit. The maintenance guy started it up with no problem and now I am afraid to go down into my own basement for fear that the mere sight of me will thrust us back in time to when we had to heat our water on the stove to do dishes (it isn't that far back...last week for me!).

The car now runs sometimes and the water is hot, but the clothes dryer is still drying for only 10 minutes at a time, requiring an hour break between each stint. I have been hanging clothes all over the house trying to get them dry but Mt. Washmore is still growing daily in my hallway and we are running out of clean clothes. I am hoping the mere act of dismantling the timer mechanism and putting it back together will cause it to work again...but I would have to go near the water heater to do that, and I just don't know which appliance is most important!

Well, That Backfired

Yesterday I was so tired that I called in and told the hotline I would be a couple hours late for work. My plan was, I would go back to sleep, and go to work later a much happier person. I am pretty stingy with my paid time off, so I must have been pretty dang tired.

It backfired.

In addition to having a hard time getting back to sleep, once I did, I spent over an hour in a harrowing nightmare. It went like this:

I was running for my life from a shape-shifter that was trying to kill me. My mom and my dad (who in my dream were nothing like my real parents) were running after me, as well. My mom kept trying to give me weapons with which to beat off my attacker. But the weapons would morph into useless items. For instance, she handed me a golf club that, once I swung it at the shape-shifter's head, became a spatula. My dad ran after us from location to location, but then he would sit down and read a newspaper and tell my mom she wasn't doing it right. Anytime I miraculously came close to killing the shape-shifter (once with a mixing bowl), it would take on the form of a baby, and then I couldn't bring myself to kill it.

Then my alarm went off.

It was anything but restful.

Please Don't Do This

My friend, Jon, whom I have never seen with one shoe off, posted this on his journal. (You will need to click in order to understand)

So, here's the thing: Stuff like this? Doesn't help. While I can understand kinda-sorta where this woman was headed, the end result is yet another 'Christians are stupid and closed-minded!' experience. Do I disagree with most things our current president does, including aiming for nationalized health care? Of course. But, um, I have news: While Jesus died to forgive our sins, and hence paid for my life with His own blood, He is all powerful and really, did not charge people to heal them (as the sign might mistakenly be read to say), nor were such healings paid for by His death. He even healed ungrateful jerks (remember the 10 lepers?) for free. Now, that last part might be a bit closer to nationalized health care than is comfortable, but my point remains.

Think things through before painting them on signs, saying them, etc. Especially when dealing with unsaved people. Slogans like this are just too pointless and confusing, do nothing to help our country or our unsaved friends and, really, are a waste of poster paint.

Looking a Gift Horse In the Mouth

When I left for work this morning, I had one set of living room furniture, and when I got home, I had another. I am not ungrateful-my couches were falling apart, wires poking out and scraping paint off the walls, cushions coming apart. They were well used and well loved couches. But they were also very large, comfy, and nice colors. My new couches are small, ladylike, don't match anything in my room, and don't have room for friends to sleep over. Also, I spent part of the day wondering if the discarded couch's cushions held something of importance. No, really, I had no idea I was getting new furniture. I guess the suddenness is why I keep looking at them and thinking 'not right!' instead of 'finally!' Give me a few days, and I will be fine, I am sure.

I'm Driving a Red Lincoln

Why, you may ask, is Jennifer driving a red Lincoln, when Jennifer bought a black Buick two weeks ago? Because Jennifer used her Mommy Voice at the dealership today. When I bought the car, the driver's side window would not roll down (note to car shoppers-try all windows!). Two days later the dealer called to ask me to bring the car back so they could fix it. Bonus points! I took it back and, two hours later, they still had not fixed it and said they needed another part. Um, okay....so back there today. Keep in mind, I have to drive thirty miles up the valley to get there. When I got there, I politely explained that prior to the last 'repair' appointment, all of the buttons worked on that door (save for that window) but afterwards, the lock/unlock and rear passenger's window buttons did not, and I expected they would fix those as well. We sat in the waiting room for FOUR HOURS. At the end of the four hours, my window was fixed, but not the other two buttons. The man just did not listen to me. I said it was unacceptable and ridiculous, and I work far too many hours and live too far away and do NOT get the gas mileage that the salesman told me I would get, and it was too much to expect me to come back even after I already explained the problem in time for them to fix it (and waited twice as long as expected). I spoke firmly enough to get the attention of this man's boss, and then had to explain the situation again to him. He gave me the red Lincoln to drive and said he would bring me my car when it is fixed. I sure hope it's soon because, remarkably, I can't stand the Lincoln.

He's Back

After ten very long and boring days, Nate has returned. My grandmother and I fetched him yesterday and I am very proud to say that for the first time ever, I went to the West side and did not get lost, not even for a minute! We even got off the highway at points on purpose! Yay!

Ok, so if you are done laughing at me...

Nate had a great time. He said he got enough to eat (this was a concern as they were limited to three meals a day and Nate eats 7 most days). His instructor told me that Nate was a great help to some of the other kids, one in particular who was quite homesick. Of course, he also said that Nate kept trying to teach the classes...which is reminiscent of the first parent-teacher conference my poor mother had during my school career. (Jenny does all right, but would you let her know that I am the teacher?)

He is still wearing Navy gear. It appears that it has become fused into his very being.

He ran (yes, ran) to the store last night to buy gummy bears. Not only were they not allowed at boot camp, the superior cadets WERE eating them, and apparently this was torture tantamount to that which the CIA uses for interrogation.

Now we are trying to move from recovery mode to useful mode. It isn't going so smoothly.

'Bout Time

Well, She Was Sweet, At Least

I helped a....ahem...large-challenged, not-young lady this morning. (my grandmother objects to 'little old lady'). She was a sweetie, but she seemed to think I had some amazing magic. In any case, I had to re-set her password for her. I said, "I need you to give me a password that has at least six letters, that you have no used before." She gave me a series of letters and then I asked, "Any upper case letters in that?" and she said, "Not that I know of." Well, okay, then.

I really have nothing interesting to say. Between working tons and Nate being gone, basically I have become a big ball of boredom. This does not bode well for the day I have an empty nest.

Anyone who wants to pray, btw, I need to find a car by Saturday morning. No, that isn't a joke.

MOT

Where I work, we sometimes have MOT--Mandatory Overtime. Now, I try to work overtime, but somehow, when it is mandated, it isn't nearly as appealing. I worked an extra eight hours yesterday and have to go back tomorrow and to be honest, I just don't wanna.

Actually, I am just very tired and fighting a headache and can't go to bed early tonight like I would prefer. It's a lovely night for a walk but I feel too rotten to go for one. I didn't even stay to watch Jukido.

I think I am going to go hunt up some Calgone-type comfort.

It IS Saturday, right?

So, Netflix is now shipping on Saturdays. Only I didn't find this out until it was too late to adjust my queue! Argh.

I was up half the night sewing patches on Nate's Navy Leaguer uniforms. If I never see another name tape it will be too soon. This morning I said, "There, I am all done! Now you know your momma loves you!" Nate said, "Or you are just doing your best to get rid of me for nine days!" LOL, at least now he can go to boot camp, and I still say I will come out ahead since I don't have to feed him while he's gone. Gonna miss him, though.

A clue to Nate's sense of humor: On my way out the door I asked him to turn off the lamp. It's been acting funny lately and I am worried about hazards. So I said, "Turn off this lamp before you leave. I don't want it left on when no one's home."

"I know what you mean, Mom! It's been convicted of assault four times and in jail on possession charges twice."

Sigh.

Blessed Peace

For the first time in weeks it is cool enough to turn off the a/c. That thing, and the fans to circulate the cool air, are so LOUD! I am home alone and this is the most quiet that I have experienced in far too long.

It was a long and tiring day and I was not feeling well for most of it, so no walk this evening. Although, really, it is so nice out...maybe I will change my mind.

Clean Naked!

This way, when you mis-read the directions on the bottle of heavy-duty mildew-killing shower cleaner with bleach and, instead of turning the nozzle tip 180 degrees, accidentally unscrew the whole nozzle component, dropping the bottle and being splashed, your clothes are safe and it is only you that needs hosing off.

I was glad I did!

Creeping Discontent

I am not sure if it is viral or bacterial, but I am sure that I have come down with it. Creeping Discontent.

It begins with something small, say, a car breaking down. Then it begins to snowball, adding teen troubles, busy schedules, money problems, etc...then I lose my ability to look at the glass-half-full side of life...until before I know it good friends are asking far too often, 'Hey, are you ok?'

Yesterday I turned to a work buddy and said, "I am in a bad mood!" and his reply was, "I had noticed."

Oops.

Really, what is my contentedness supposed to be based on? I don't think it's the car, the money, the kids or the house. Apparently I need to climb to a higher vantage point, 'cause I have lost sight of the point.

Garfield Had a Point

You know how every Monday Garfield wakes up and gets a pie in the face? He thinks Mondays are inherently evil, that they are actually out to get us. He has a point.

This morning I woke up with a sore throat. I am fighting a sinus infection and apparently it is fighting back!

I checked my bank balance and find that my landlord had been holding on to not one, not two, but THREE rent checks...until last week. I thought there were only two outstanding, so all of a sudden my carefully laid financial plans for the month are blown to bits.

I am still carless, but I had on my 'absolutely necessary!' list things like buying deck shoes and sunglasses for Nate. No, really, it was necessary-he's at his first Sailing class as I write this. I would not want to see him sun-blinded, falling into the river in the hiking boots he insists on wearing every day. And since he is training for Boot Camp and has to run every day, sending him in his running shoes was also not an option.

So I begged my mother to loan me her car. On the way home from dropping her back at her office, sandwiched between a concrete barricade and a line of cars, I had no choice but to run over some object in the road. It made an awful sound and I drove home in a panic and looked underneath. Seeing no damage, I gingerly drove to the sporting goods store. When we left I saw a small puddle under the car, so I confessed to my mother and she sent me off to the Toyota repair shop.

This is where my Monday took a turn for the comedic and not-quite-disastrous. Turns out Lola (the car...choose your Lola song, I frequently sing when I see her) was fine...until I brought her into the shop. They ran into her with a golf cart while checking her over. The good news? This is not costing me any money, or my mom, either. Plus, Lola got a bath so they could check her for damage.

The Toyota repair shop has a waiting room to beat the Hilton. Massage chairs, a big screen television playing The Science Channel (I now know how they make those 13-foot long Riiiiicooooolllllaaaa horns and also how they make action figures based on real people), a boutique and a lady who kept trying to give people drinks and food.

And now I find myself with four hours (minus the time it takes me to post this) of solitude, peace and quiet. And a mile-long to-do list, but hey, we can't have everything! And, Monday, I believe I have beaten you this week after all!