More Comment Weirdness...

What is it with Blogger and Comments lately?

I use comment moderation.  Maybe I don't really need it, but I like it.  And that way I'm sure to notice when I get a comment. 

Earlier this month I had a "ghost comment".  My dashboard would say I had a comment waiting for moderation, but then nothing was there.  Well that was messing with my mind!

Eventually it disappeared.  Hallelujah.

But now I have the opposite.  My dashboard will say "3 Comments" but, there will be four!  And the last one refuses to publish.  I've tried.  And tried.

Then it hit me.  It isn't a new comment.  It's from last October.  And it published, then.  But it's popping it's head up, trying to get published again.

Go figure.

Words of Wisdom... From the Trenches

I was just reading 6YearMed - a young pediatrician's blog - and she was talking about the advice people give at showers.  You know, lovely practical advice about taking care of yourself, and cherishing the moments, etc.

But real moms give real practical advice, yah?  Like...

or...

or...

Thoughts?  What is your wisdom from the trenches?

Simple Woman #55

Simple Woman

For today...  March 29, 2010

Outside my window...  clouds and rain, rain, rain.  And Kerry, weed-whacking.  Now?  Really?

I am thinking...  I really need a spring picture of the house, because it's definitely not snowy, but I'm not ready for the summer picture to go back up!  That tree in the front left is a pink dogwood that will be beautiful in a few weeks.

I am thankful for...  I love singing in the chorale, and preparing and performing Messiah, but I'm also glad we're done.  (See post below.)

I am praying for...  my dad to sing with us next time around... we really need another tenor ;D

I am wearing...  you would be shocked to know that I wore a skirt, three days in a row.  Well, it's dress code, for the chorale, and when church came around Sunday morning I just figured I was on a roll.  I think the boys were shocked.  More about that later.

Back to my jeans, today though.

I am creating...  I'm getting the itch to start another quilt, but working on plans for it...

I am going...  to get the laundry all caught up, after a busy weekend.  Ugh!

I am hoping...  to find my sense of humor.  It goes missing (or malfunctions?) when I get tired.

I am hearing...  the washer spinning, rain dripping, and the weed-whacker.  Which is just strange.

I am remembering...  Kerry, you promised me you would shave before Easter.  I haven't forgotten.  :D

From the learning rooms...  one more week until we take our Spring Break.  Not that I'm counting...

But for now, several experiments to do with crystals are underway, Gunnar is beginning multiplication (x2, x10, and x7), Tate lives for history, and Wyatt thinks I'm exacting some kind of cruel and unusual torture by forcing him to respond to (written) questions with complete sentences.  We're reading about the Industrial Revolution, the Luddites, and Child Labor... which will probably prompt some interesting discussions about chore expectations around the house.  I predict more than a slight discrepancy in perception from the adults and the kids involved in the equation.  Yah.

From the kitchen...  nothing!  We're invited to friends' for dinner.  We had them over once before and had a nice time, despite the apparent way Gunnar described them.

Around the house...  I have two chairs I want to get rid of.  If you're local and interested... they're swivel rockers with a swirly beige/gold and purple leaf pattern.  Nothing wrong with them, we just have too much stuff.

On my mind... the mundane, my friends, the very mundane.

Noticing that... the big, fat, bumble-bees are out and busy.

Pondering these words...  When Handel's Messiah premiered in London he was complimented by an aristocrat for having entertained the audience.  He is said to have replied,

"My lord, I should be sorry to say that I only entertained.  I wished to make them better."

One of my favorite things...  changing seasons.

A few plans for the rest of the week...  soccer, soccer, and more soccer.  *sigh*  Dinner with friends, piano lesson, AWANA.

Here is a picture thought I am sharing...

Coming soon, to a yard near you... the season of Mud.

Is "Black" Really So Difficult to Understand?

You wouldn't think so, would you?

In our community choir we have a dress code.  It's much more relaxed than a truly formal group, which would be tuxedos for the guys, and a uniform black dress for the gals.  We just go black.  And modest.  Because, really, the idea is that it's not about me.  We're a group.  Nobody's appearance should be a distraction.  So we all look pretty much the same, without requiring anyone to buy anything expensive.  For heaven's sake, you could probably get your whole outfit at Goodwill.  (Well, except for the shoes and the hosiery.  Ew.)

The dress code for the men is: black dress shirt, black dress pants, black socks, and black dress shoes.  Although, if you had a really nice pair of all-black tennis shoes, I doubt anyone would bat an eye.

For the women: black dress or skirt - below the knee or longer, black top (if you're wearing a skirt), dark black hose and black dress shoes.  No distracting jewelry.  (Small rings, or stud earrings are okay.)

Does that seem pretty straight-forward?

I thought so.

But, alas, apparently several others didn't.  I was new at Christmas, and not confident enough to say anything when the young woman who stood next to me showed up in a cocktail dress, no stockings, and light gray python shoes. 

No, I am not kidding.

I wish I was.

But this time around I teamed up with the only woman on the chorale board (because the men are, frankly, terrified to approach a female about her clothes) and confronted  the ones that showed up not dressed to code.  Because the first night we had four gals who just didn't get it.  Now, granted, one was very young and came in a black dress and black shoes... with black bobby socks.  Cute, but no.

Another was also young, and wearing enormous brown clod-hoppers.  And a skirt about four sizes too big that she thought she could hide them under.  Except that it dragged on the ground like a bridal train and the risk factor for tripping was just ridiculous.

Two others came in black skirts/dresses with bare legs.  No.  Just no.

You should've seen their faces when I presented them with a bag of (used) black nylons the board member had dug out of her own stash.  Let's just say that I'm not going to win any popularity contests.  But for cryin' out loud, if you don't want to wear someone else's pantyhose, you should've brought your own!

One girl gave me a haughty look and said, "But I stand in the back!"

To which I replied, "But I don't care."

She peered into the bag.  "Do I really have to?

"Yes, you do."  Unless you'd rather sit in the audience.

The board member and I had a good laugh about it later.

I told her if she was out of pantyhose, I'd bring a can of black spray paint the next night.

Shoes.  Legs.  Whatever.   

If they aren't black, you aren't singing.

Just Sayin'

Lenten Messiah

(I know, these photos are from Christmas...)

We gathered in October to begin rehearsing the Christmas Messiah - which was glorious.  Then took a brief break through January, and reconvened in early February to learn the less-well-known Lenten portions of Handel's work.

The same doubts go through my head each week.  Is it worth it to drive all the way out to the church every Monday night?  I'm usually gone from about 5:45 until... late.  And I'm a home-body.  I'd love to curl up in a chair in the living room with a candle burning and a good book to read.  Especially on these short days, when it's dark out by 5:30!

But every time it happens.  I get out there and I love it.  The music, the people, and the way the people love the music.  Because we're just ordinary people.  (Okay, some of us are more ordinary than others.  Some of them have real talent!)  But, as Gerald - our conductor and a pastor - says, "Why do you think God gave you breath?  To sing His praises!  Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!"  Psalm 150:6

So we do.  Sometimes with better results than others, but always with a good will.  I mean, it's God's Word.  I want to do my best, so as not to detract from the message.

As at Christmas, we had an orchestra playing with us, and they were fabulous.  A music reviewer could say it better, but they add flavor that is missing with just piano/organ.  And oh boy did they bring the Hallelujah to life.  We did not do Handel's Hallelujah, having just done it at Christmas, but used Beethoven's, from The Mount of Olives.  (You can hear it here.)  Gives me shivers.  Good shivers.

I feel I've been launched into Holy Week, with a passion!

Blitzing Boys

Oh be still my organizing, tidying heart.  The boys got up early and...

cleaned the family room.

All on their own, without being asked.  And that was before Kerry offered them money to find the watch he's lost.


I've been letting the house go just a wee little bit.  Between being sick, leaving for a weekend, soccer starting, and two Messiah performances coming up this weekend,  I have just deferred a lot of things.  Like changing all the flannel sheets back to regular sheets, dust-mopping under the beds (and, well, everywhere else upstairs), scrubbing the kitchen floor, and The Family Room.  The dreaded Family Room.

Honestly, the family room had taken on a life of its own, it was so bad.  Piles of books, several blankets just thrown somewhere, two or three of Kerry's jackets, endless Legos, more books, and somewhere - I'm sure, because it's been missing since Sunday - Gunnar's beloved Silly Putty.  It was BAD.  I hadn't even taken pictures, and the ones from a previous blitz have nothing on this mess.

I don't even go in there.  And the bathroom off the family room?  Haven't been in there for days.  Maybe weeks.  But that's okay, because we can do a Friday Blitz and conquer it all, right?

But they got up and cleaned it!  And they did a good job!  It's actually TIDY in there and I'm not going to get a nervous breakdown just looking in the door!

Books are shelved, Legos are sorted and in tubs, blankets are folded, garbage is picked up, DVDs are in a box, jackets are... well... somewhere,  toys are in the toybox, garbage in the garbage can, and the Silly Putty has been found.  I'm impressed.

Granted... they had a motive.  Screen-time.  There's a game they want to play when they're done with their school-work today.

OKAY!

Weenie Dave Ache Asian

I had an epiphany.

I was on a women's retreat with some fun ladies from church, the theme (if there was one - this was not a highly structured affair) being Weenie Dave Ache Asian...  we need a vacation.

Our hostess pulled out a game - Mad Gabs - that had given them the inspiration for the name.  Have you seen this?  The whole game is cards, with words printed on them, and you have to guess what they say.

Um... it's not immediately obvious.

For instance,  Wide Hidden Chews Haze Hoe

Go ahead.  Say it out loud.  Faster.  Run your words together.

Wididdenchewsazo.

Why didn't you say so?

We ran through a few.

Hen Deep Hen Danced Hay

Up Racked Hick Gulch Oak

Elects Hand Earthly Crate

Oak And A Duh


I was getting them.  I was enjoying them.  Then it hit me.

Welcome to Tate's World.

His hearing isn't great.  He's got a bad ear and a deaf ear.  He misses things, especially if he can't see the speaker's face.  He misses sounds.  And his mind fills in the gaps and puts the sounds he hears into words.  But they don't always make sense.

Sometimes it's close, and he doesn't know he's mis-heard so he just goes with it, and then nothing after that makes sense.  And we have to back up, and figure out what he heard, and what was actually said, and then go forward again.

What really amazes me is how often he gets it RIGHT.

How often he figures out that Hen Deep Hen Danced Hay is a national holiday, with fireworks.

That Up Racked Hick Gulch Oak is funny... if you're not the 'victim'.

That Elects Hand Earthly Crate conquered the Gordian Knot.

And that Oak And A Duh is that national anthem we kept hearing when we watched the Whole Imp Pig Aims.

Because, really, the kid is brilliant.  And he has a great sense of humor.  We can all laugh kindly together with him when he gets it wrong.  Because it happens.

Because Evan Leaf Otter is not a native American name for God.

I Will Make It My Ambition To...

... with my hands.

How many times?

Happy to be Spreading Good News

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Here's a hint...