Thoughts from the Shower Wall

Putting the Wicked Witch of the West to Shame

2011-05-17T01:35:00.000-06:00

I'll spare all the many ways I outbitched the witch tonight, and reflect on this one telling incident.

I've lately returned to gummy bears as potty treats, since Alice has decided to SELECTIVELY abandon her potty-trained status. Amazingly, my big kids kept eating the potty treats, no matter what I said. The little girls are totally capable of saying no to themselves in favor of the rule—not so, the almost-adults.

I told my big kids, "Anyone who gets into the gummies again, has to buy me a whole Costco bag." Like everything else, they completely ignored me. Over and over, all three of them!
When they got home I informed them that all three of them had to go to Costco TONIGHT and each buy me a bag of gummy bears. (Can you fathom that quantity???)

I immediately get all kinds of passionate argument about how they can't even get into costco, and "my wallet's in dad's car" and "it won't work," blah, blah, blah. "Figure it out. Solve it!" I explain that they'll need cash to buy something at Costco with my card, "So go get cash first." (They ignored this advice.)

Argue, argue, argue. Heat! Fury! Conflagration!

I finally told them, "You will not have dinner, FHE, treats, NOTHING until you've gone to Costco and EACH OF YOU BUYS ME A BAG OF GUMMY BEARS!"

They all get real calm-like and Nancy says, "Check it out, this is like the first time in two years that mom's following through on a threat." And that was it.

I can see, I've trained them perfectly to ignore me.

"China doesn't really match our family."

2011-03-29T04:22:00.000-06:00

Eden (6) said those exact words during FHE. David was talking about the very UNlikely possibility of needing to move to China briefly for this job he has starting in April.

He was in the process of explaining how we could make it work--rent 3 apartments right next to each other, since we're not likely to find a 5 bedroom home in a country that allows 1 child per couple. Adding to our weirdness--7 girls.

That's when Eden piped in with, "China doesn't really match our family."

She has a point. Still, if we possibly can go, we will. And, I've already prepared everyone that if it happens, they will NOT be going to American schools. I'll drop them into a regular Chinese classroom, and pray hard for the gift of tongues.

Just a thought.

Using Technology to Humanize the Classroom

2011-03-16T23:35:00.001-06:00

Another big wow at TED. Just when I thought that the only improvements in education would be found by looking backward, here is a real pioneer. (For a fleeting moment, I had an impulse to learn calculus!) And all this brilliance comes out of his project to help his cousins. Enjoy!

Forgot to mention my favorite part: When you watch the data--teaching for mastery rather than just a pass--the kid who looks like a slow learner in the beginning, might look like an advanced student over a few weeks.

"The job of the B is to make the C sad" OR . . . How does music do that! OR . . .How dramatic eyebrows can improve your performance.

2011-02-28T23:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've enjoyed the brilliance of TED presentations before. This is the first one I've seen that attempts to explain why classical music is for everyone.

You won't believe what this man can do with his eyebrows!

http://www.hulu.com/watch/219250/tedtalks-benjamin-zander-on-music-and-passion#continuous_play=on

"I walked out of Auschwitz and into life with a vow . . .

I will never say anything that can not stand as the last thing I ever say."

About that Orva . . .

2011-02-25T11:55:00.001-07:00

We're hoping to have this blog up and running this week, so you can see the real post then, but to put everyone at ease, here's my blurb about Orva.

Orva: That sleek figure you see there is no accident, this lady is our health and beauty expert. She’s a true vegan and does hot yoga (Bikram) faithfully. She can help you identify the carcinogens in your life and is the person you want if you’re doing battle with an insurance company or trying to make difficult medical decisions—she’s an expert questioner. She wins for most grandchildren: 26.

my bad

2011-02-25T00:29:00.001-07:00

Nice blogging snafu. If you saw that post about my book club—that was meant for the new blog we’re trying to start. My finger slipped just as I clicked, and instead of clicking to SAVE, I clicked to PUBLISH. And, since Live Writer is so very efficient—all synced up to to the showerwall—it loaded to the wrong blog (here).

You might have thought I would have the brains to quickly delete it, but Iwhen I looked at my blog, it wasn’t there.

Refresh. Still not there. A cyber mystery. I had no idea, it would post with the date of my FIRST DRAFT—way back in August.

It was an ugly draft, and as soon as I posted, I noticed that somehow in all my cutting and pasting, Orva’s little blurb got deleted. The irony is, the only people who saw this dumb post are the people who have the showerwall loaded into their google reader—basically, David’s family—the only readers (of my 15) who would even know to look for Orva.

Orva, you’ll be glad to know, you had many people come to your defense. No chance you’ll be forgotten, not even on a temporary bad draft posted to the wrong blog!

There’s longevity for you.

Thanks, everyone, for caring. It’s fun to hear from you.

Resenting the Hero

2011-02-17T17:44:00.118-07:00

UPDATE: David informs me that my review is lean on real info about the book, for example . . . "Why would I want to read it." So, here's a bone for those of you who like more of a teaser. (In purple to match the ridiculous cover. Don't worry, no spoilers.)

In this world of extremes, the population is constantly threatened by violent atmospheric events (earthquakes, floods, tsunamis). A few gifted people "Sources" are able to channel their mental resources to dispel these events, but left undefended, they die in the process without protection from a "Shield"--another gifted person capable of reaching into the Source to regulate heartrate, shield the mind, and whatever else is necessary to help the Source survive channeling.

The story begins as novice Shield (and smart girl) Dunleavy Mallorough is waiting for her pairing ceremony--where Sources and Shields are brought together for the first time to see who, if any, will "bond." Bonding is instantaneous, spontaneous and permanent. Source and Shield will be connected for life and when one dies, so does the other.

Lee (Dunleavy)has read up on the Source candidates and is appalled when she bonds with overly beautiful Source Shintaro Karish, widely known for his pretty face, excessive philandering, and general debaucheries. But, he's a mighty fine Source: the only one who can sense an event before it arrives, which gets them immediately stationed in the largest and most difficult, weather-torn city on the planet--High Scape. So begins a rocky friendship.

If this channeling and bonding business sounds weird, it's only because I'm not Moira Moore. It's all very convincing, and our new heroes are flung into an impossible setting where more experienced pairs have failed.
For all it's adventure, the story is also very sociological. The pairing situation creates some unusual dynamics, and injustices surface like they do in any culture. It's a very real world.

One more thing: I am VINDICATED in my LOW opinion of the title and cover, by this hilarious review at Angieville. (I'm not just being picky.)

Now, as we were . . .

________________________________________

I just finished this fun book.

NOTE: This is the all-time WORST cover I've ever seen, mostly based on its total irrelevance: nowhere in the story does anyone polish a man's boots. The characters look like idiots, and that bubble cloud makes it look like some kind of Sweet Valley tween drivel--very misleading. This is not a romance. It's also not for young YA (sorry, Lizzy). It's got some heavy themes, though nothing graphic.

As long as I'm complaining, it's a poor title as well. I imagine Ms Moore had some fine words for her publisher.

BUT, don't let all that dissuade you. This is a great story. I read about the series on my favorite YA book blog: http://angieville.blogspot.com. Interest piqued, I got it from the library, thought I'd read a few pages before sleep--ha!

I read deep into the night until the book hit my face and finished it the next night. It's a very compelling story, and her writing style is quick and immediate. She covers all the background you need in just a few pages and the story is off and running.

I started to write a long description of the setting and characters, but I realized part of the fun is discovering this unusual world and this pair of characters. For setting, think 18th century Europe or maybe more like 19th century America (roughly!) but on a different planet. That's all I'll say.

I was a little disturbed by too many allusions to sexual forays, even homosexual flirtations--not my fare for YA--but we never see anything overt or explicit. And that ends in the first half.

Still, she's an excellent storyteller. I couldn't put it down. Very interesting social constructs drive this unusual culture. It made me think about our own world.

I've vowed not to start the next book until my work is done for the week. I can see from other reviews that they're all productivity killers.

Enjoy!

A Cup of "Perfect Peach" Tea

2011-01-25T00:34:00.000-07:00

This is a lovely tea--very fragrant. Everyone in my house THINKS she wants a taste, but I'm alone for actually liking it.

Here's some of tonight's commentary from Alice (3):

Al: Mom, can I taste your tea?

me: Sure.

Al: Mmm. It tastes like gum--like CHEWED gum.

me: Really?

Al: Do YOU think it tastes like chewed gum?

me: I don't know. I've never tasted chewed gum.

Al: Hm. It tastes like chewed gum.

She sort of has a point, but how does she know the taste of chewed gum?

(btw: she looked exactly like Jenni Mella--including facial expressions and shoulder shrugs--as we had this conversation. Amazing!)

"Mom, is Dad a nerd?"

2011-01-24T20:29:00.000-07:00

Here's a fun conversation I had tonight with Eden (6) :

eden: Mom, is Dad a nerd?

me: Yes. Dad likes to be a nerd.
eden: How do you get to be a nerd?
me: You just study hard, you get good at math, and then you're a nerd.
eden: I mean, does someone have to say that you're a nerd--like the mayor or someone like that?
me: No, you just declare yourself a nerd.

I'm not good at math, but I like to think that my closet love of the original Star Trek gives me some rights to nerdhood.

Catch an old episode here.

Live long and prosper!

Cooking with My Grandmothers

2011-01-20T02:00:00.000-07:00

My microwave died a couple of weeks ago. Quite suddenly. No heaving out it's last breath for a few days, it just didn't work one minute, and I needed a new one.

But, I was sick--really sick--and these things take a bit of research. It needs to fit a very specific, small hole in the cupboards. It took a while before I even felt like looking, then another while to decide which one to buy.

In the meantime, I got to ask myself, "How on earth do I melt the butter for popcorn? --are you kidding me?--a saucepan? . . . frozen edamame beans that Alice insists on daily--no! another pan! . . . I need a quick roux (flour mixed in melted butter) to add to the potato soup? another pan just to mix the roux?"

It was seriously irritating. I ignored all leftovers.

Then one afternoon, I really wanted to reheat some mashed potatoes, and it dawned on me that my grandmothers knew how to manage leftovers without a microwave. I asked, "How did Grandma reheat mashed potatoes?" And, then, without ceremony or any visible indicator, my kitchen transformed into a holy intersection between heaven and earth.

"So simple. Just put a little milk in the pan, get it hot, add the potatoes, and stir really fast before it burns."

It worked perfectly. "Wow, thanks Grandma. What about the gravy? Dinner rolls? Bacon is so messy! and the pans are extra dirty."

"So, easy, just a little extra scrubbing, or soak it while you clean up." So fun to hang out in the kitchen with my grandmothers this week. Whether my DNA retains their memories, or they are actually more available then we thought, it was a party with the grandmas every night in my kitchen.

My new microwave arrived today. It's stainless steel and very sleek. Works great.

Not as fun as my grandmas. I'm going miss them.

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T02:05:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed, I haven't been a stellar blogger this year. My resolution for 2011 is to post once a month! I'm really shooting for once a week but don't want to risk overpromising. So here's my first post and New Year wish to you:

Hope springs eternal! Here's to looking forward in 2011.

Who gets sick in the summer? OR . . . happy birthday, Sarah. . .

2010-07-27T23:31:00.001-06:00

. . . from my flu bed. Enjoy the swimming.

I actually sent David and the peeps down to his sister’s tonight for Sarah’s 15th birthday, so I could lay in bed, moaning.

Nancy informed me that missing your daughter’s birthday party is inappropriate behavior for a mother, but the swimming was planned yesterday, and I can’t exactly waltz in with my flu. So, here’s my attempt to make it up.

[btw: chances of my children reading this are, exactly, zero. That would be the equivalent of volunteering for a lecture.]

So, here’s my girl.

I like this picture, because you can see that there’s a lot more going on than her pretty face. This girl is complicated. Her fourth grade teacher tipped us off to this complexity during our first parent-teacher conference: “All these kids are 4th graders, and then there’s Sarah over there bantering with this dry wit that no other 4th grader even gets.” Then he raved about her artwork and advanced essay writing.

Do I sound like her mother, or what?!

David and I left that conference soaring like the parenting gods had smiled down on us and hoping that we hadn’t used up all our good-kid-tickets. (Those conferences don’t always go so well.)

This is exactly the look she had once when I was ranting about something and slipped out a “dadgummit.” She held that look without cracking a smile and asked, “Is ‘dadgummit’ a compound word?” (That was 5th grade.)

Which brings me to another interesting tidbit about her . . . She never dominates a conversation but can strangely control the direction it takes—unusual diplomacy for a 15 year old. She’s obscenely helpful with the little girls and is the only one in the family who can do hair. (Heaven help us when she leaves for college.)

This pict shows her more playful side. She has these amazing eyebrows that can dance around independent of one another and everything else. Eat your heart out, Sherlock Holmes.

So there you have it: happy birthday, Sarah. I can’t believe you’re 15, and I can’t believe you’re only 15!

You’re amazing, and we love you.

Love,
Mom & Dad

How the stoner in Mr. Dant's class shamed the Mormons

2010-07-24T11:13:00.001-06:00

I just remembered something that happened in my sophomore English class. It was an honors class, so there were a bunch of smart kids. We were a pretty homogeneous-looking group, wearing a lot of retro-preppy 80s clothes. (This thrilled my parents to no end.)

The class was, I'd guess, half Mormon. One kid there (maybe there were others) didn't fit; he wore a black concert T-shirt everyday: AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Bon Jovi, maybe KISS. Very un-retro-preppy.
He also had long hair—very definitely NOT retro-preppy. Boys didn't have long hair in the 80s unless they were stoned. He didn't comment much, but Mr. Dant must have seen potential there, because occasionally he'd call on him directly, and Concert T would reply with something very snarky and we'd all go, "Whoa, he's smart for a stoner."

But, that's all background. Here's the real story: We were discussing I don't know what, when the conversation turned to religion. Mr. Dant asked: "Why do people go to church?" The Mormons perked up, smelling a "missionary moment."

Mr. Dant called on one of us. I can't remember who, but the answer was, roughly: "We go to church to learn about God and the scriptures."

Mr. Dant looked confused, "Nope."

Small panic. That was my answer. What was the question?

He asked another student who gave a variation on the same answer, "To learn what God wants us to do," then someone else, " . . . to learn what we have to do to get back into heaven." We kept going like this.

Mr. Dant kept shaking his head saying, "No, no, no!" and laughing. I was wracking my brains. What could he possibly be looking for? Then, he called on Concert T who didn’t hesitate: "To worship God," he said.

Oh.

Yeah. Right. That's it. Why didn't we think of that?

I swear I could read Mr. Dant's mind: What a bunch of sorry Mormon kids who don't even know why they go to church! Now I'm wondering if my kids would say anything different. I’m also wondering if I really know what it means to worship. I confess, I only use that term when I'm describing an unhealthy romantic relationship.

[I’m stretching for a working definition here. Can anyone help?

How about: to express love and adoration, acknowledging the perfection and wisdom of the worshipped, with a commitment to follow absolutely. That’s a little frightening, isn’t it?]

Even now, church is a lot of corralling my offspring, doing my duty, still trying to learn, and refilling my own cup—not so much worship.

I do worship, but I think it mostly happens in odd settings, like driving on the freeway or folding laundry when my mind has time to wander, uninterrupted. Sometimes it wanders into gratitude which leads me to worship. Only sometimes.

I don’t worship enough. I wish I could remember Concert T’s name. I’d like to ask him about his worship. I should have asked him when I had the chance.

Does anyone have a picture of Mr. Dant or Concert T?

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 7 (July 3)

2010-07-04T01:57:00.001-06:00

VIRGINIA DECLARATION OF RIGHTS—May 15, 1776:
“All men are by nature equally free and independent.”

Quick reality check—how long has it been since we expected “moderation, temperance, frugality and virtue” out of our government? Look at Section 15—“That no free government, or the blessings of liberty, can be preserved to any people, but by a firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance, frugality, and virtue, and by frequent recurrence to fundamental principles.

What would he say to us now?

Principal author of the Declaration of Rights: George Mason—“The wisest man of his generation” (Thomas Jefferson)

On May 15, 1776, the Virginia Convention "resolved unanimously that the delegates appointed to represent this colony in General Congress be instructed to propose to that respectable body to declare the United Colonies free and independent states . . . [and] that a committee be appointed to prepare a DECLARATION OF RIGHTS and . . . plan of government." As passed, the Virginia Declaration was largely the work of George Mason; this declaration served as a model for bills of rights in several other state constitutions.

Virginia Declaration of Rights

A declaration of rights made by the representatives of the good people of Virginia, assembled in full and free convention; which rights do pertain to them and their posterity, as the basis and foundation of government.

SECTION I. That all men are by nature equally free and independent and have certain inherent rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society, they cannot, by any compact, deprive or divest their posterity; namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pursuing and obtaining happiness and safety.

SEC. 2. That all power is vested in, and consequently derived from, the people; that magistrates are their trustees and servants and at all times amenable to them.

SEC. 3. That government is, or ought to be, instituted for the common benefit, protection, and security of the people, nation, or community; of all the various modes and forms of government, that is best which is capable of producing the greatest degree of happiness and safety and is most effectually secured against the danger of maladministration; and that, when any government shall be found inadequate or contrary to these purposes, a majority of the community hath an indubitable, inalienable, and indefeasible right to reform, alter, or abolish it, in such manner as shall be judged most conducive to the public weal.

SEC. 4. That no man, or set of men, are entitled to exclusive or separate emoluments or privileges from the community, but in consideration of public services; which, not being descendible, neither ought the offices of magistrate, legislator, or judge to be hereditary.

SEC. 5. That the legislative and executive powers of the state should be separate and distinct from the judiciary; and that the members of the two first may be restrained from oppression, by feeling and participating the burdens of the people, they should, at fixed periods, be reduced to a private station, return into that body from which they were originally taken, and the vacancies be supplied by frequent, certain, and regular elections, in which all, or any part, of the former members, to be again eligible, or ineligible, as the laws shall direct.

SEC. 6. That elections of members to serve as representatives of the people, in assembly, ought to be free; and that all men, having sufficient evidence of permanent common interest with, and attachment to, the community, have the right of suffrage and cannot be taxed or deprived of their property for public uses without their own consent, or that of their representatives so elected, nor bound by any law to which they have not, in like manner, assented for the public good. [Term limits!]

SEC. 7. That all power of suspending laws, or the execution of laws, by any authority, without consent of the representatives of the people, is injurious to their rights and ought not to be exercised.

SEC. 8. That in all capital or criminal prosecutions a man hath a right to demand the cause and nature of his accusation, to be confronted with the accusers and witnesses, to call for evidence in his favor, and to a speedy trial by an impartial jury of twelve men of his vicinage, without whose unanimous consent he cannot be found guilty; nor can he be compelled to give evidence against himself; that no man be deprived of his liberty, except by the law of the land or the judgment of his peers.

SEC. 9. That excessive bail ought not to be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.

SEC. 10. That general warrants, whereby an officer or messenger may be commanded to search suspected places without evidence of a fact committed, or to seize any person or persons not named, or whose offense is not particularly described and supported by evidence, are grievous and oppressive and ought not to be granted.

SEC. 11. That in controversies respecting property, and in suits between man and man, the ancient trial by jury is preferable to any other and ought to be held sacred.

SEC. 12. That the freedom of the press is one of the great bulwarks of liberty and can never be restrained but by despotic governments.

SEC. 13. That a well-regulated militia, or composed of the body of the people, trained to arms, is the proper, natural, and safe defense of a free state; that standing armies, in time of peace, should be avoided as dangerous to liberty; and that in all cases the military should be under strict subordination to, and governed by, the civil power.

SEC. 14. That the people have a right to uniform government; and, therefore, that no government separate from or independent of the government of Virginia ought to be erected or established within the limits thereof.

SEC. 15. That no free government, or the blessings of liberty, can be preserved to any people, but by a firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance, frugality, and virtue, and by frequent recurrence to fundamental principles.

SEC. 16. That religion, or the duty which we owe to our Creator, and the manner of discharging it, can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence; and therefore all men are equally entitled to the free exercise of religion, according to the dictates of conscience; and that it is the mutual duty of all to practice Christian forbearance, love, and charity toward each other.

1. The Federal and State Constitutions, Colonial Charters . . . , ed. F. N. Thorpe (Washington, 1909), VII, 3812-14

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 8 (July 4)

2010-07-04T01:52:00.001-06:00

“To secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men.”

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

This is awesome! And only 9 minutes long. Thank you, Hollywood (rare words at our house). Here’s a longer version of the same thing, but with introduction by Morgan Freeman: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jYyttEu_NLU&feature=related

Enjoy!

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. — And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

— John Hancock

New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton

Massachusetts:
John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry

Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery

Connecticut:
Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott

New York:
William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris

New Jersey:
Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark

Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross

Delaware:
Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean

Maryland:
Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton

Virginia:
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton

North Carolina:
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn

South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton

Georgia:
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 6

2010-07-03T01:33:00.001-06:00

MARCH 31, 1776, ABIGAIL ADAMS TO JOHN ADAMS: “We are determined to foment a rebellion.”

Thank you, Abigail, for this lovely missive. What would American History be without all your beautiful words: “I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors.”

"I long to hear that you have declared an independency. And, by the way, in the new code of laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make, I desire you would remember the ladies and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors.

"Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the husbands.

"Remember, all men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the ladies, we are determined to foment a rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any laws in which we have no voice or representation.

"That your sex are naturally tyrannical is a truth so thoroughly established as to admit of no dispute; but such of you as wish to be happy willingly give up -- the harsh tide of master for the more tender and endearing one of friend.

"Why, then, not put it out of the power of the vicious and the lawless to use us with cruelty and indignity with impunity?

"Men of sense in all ages abhor those customs which treat us only as the (servants) of your sex; regard us then as being placed by Providence under your protection, and in imitation of the Supreme Being make use of that power only for our happiness."

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 5

2010-07-03T01:12:00.001-06:00

Patrick Henry, March 23, 1775: “Give Me Liberty Or Give Me Death”

“Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. . .there is no longer any room for hope.”

There’s so much more to this speech than that inflammatory last line. Here’s a partial performance by a good actor. I <3 PH.

(See below for full text renderings.)

FULL TEXT:
No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the House. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The questing before the House is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.

Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort.

I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free-- if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us!

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.

It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace-- but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!

Watch here:

Good audio, no video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_7FbAU-caVg&feature=related
Good performance, partial text: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iEOets_L7vg
Whole text (bad video) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IbOGo_T01bo&feature=related
Great teacher standing

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 4

2010-07-03T00:58:00.001-06:00

THE DECLARATION OF RIGHTS—OCTOBER 19, 1765¹, the Stamp Act Congress: “It is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people, and the undoubted rights of Englishmen, that no taxes should be imposed on them, but with their own consent, given personally, or by their representatives.”

Old City Hall, New York City

On the motion of James Otis, on June 8, the Massachusetts legislature sent a circular inviting all the colonies to send delegates to a congress at New York in October, 1765. Representatives from only nine colonies appeared. Virginia, New Hampshire, North Carolina, and Georgia were not represented. The Congress agreed upon the Declaration of Rights reproduced here and, further, petitioned the king and Parliament. Because the credentials of certain delegates authorized them merely to consult and not to take action, the petition was signed by the members of only six colonies.

Saturday, Oct. 19th, 1765, A.M. -- The congress met according to adjournment, and resumed, etc., as yesterday; and upon mature deliberation, agreed to the following declaration of the rights and grievances of the colonists in America, which were ordered to be inserted.

DECLARATION OF RIGHTS

The members of this congress, sincerely devoted, with the warmest sentiments of affection and duty to His Majesty's person and government, inviolably attached to the present happy establishment of the Protestant succession, and with minds deeply impressed by a sense of the present and impending misfortunes of the British colonies on this continent; having considered as maturely as time would permit, the circumstances of said colonies, esteem it our indispensable duty to make the following declarations, of our humble opinions, respecting the most essential rights and liberties of the colonists, and of the grievances under which they labor, by reason of several late acts of Parliament.

1st. That His Majesty's subjects in these colonies owe the same allegiance to the crown of Great Britain that is owing from his subjects born within the realm, and all due subordination to that august body, the Parliament of Great Britain.

2d. That His Majesty's liege subjects in these colonies are entitled to all the inherent rights and privileges of his natural born subjects within the kingdom of Great Britain.

3d. That it is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people, and the undoubted rights of Englishmen, that no taxes should be imposed on them, but with their own consent, given personally, or by their representatives.

4th. That the people of these colonies are not, and from their local circumstances cannot be, represented in the House of Commons in Great Britain.

5th. That the only representatives of the people of these colonies are persons chosen therein, by themselves; and that no taxes ever have been or can be constitutionally imposed on them but by their respective legislatures.

6th. That all supplies to the crown, being free gifts of the people, it is unreasonable and inconsistent with the principles and spirit of the British constitution for the people of Great Britain to grant to His Majesty the property of the colonists.

7th. That trial by jury is the inherent and invaluable right of every British subject in these colonies.

8th. That the late act of Parliament entitled, "An act for granting and applying certain stamp duties, and other duties in the British colonies and plantations in America, etc.," by imposing taxes on the inhabitants of these colonies, and the said act, and several other acts, by extending the jurisdiction of the courts of admiralty beyond its ancient limits, have a manifest tendency to subvert the rights and liberties of the colonists.

9th. That the duties imposed by several late acts of Parliament, from the peculiar circumstances of these colonies, will be extremely burthensome and grievous, and, from the scarcity of specie, the payment of them absolutely impracticable.

10th. That as the profits of the trade of these colonies ultimately center in Great Britain, to pay for the manufactures which they are obliged to take from thence, they eventually contribute very largely to all supplies granted there to the crown.

11th. That the restrictions imposed by several late acts of Parliament on the trade of these colonies will render them unable to purchase the manufactures of Great Britain.

12th. That the increase, prosperity, and happiness of these colonies depend on the full and free enjoyment of their rights and liberties, and an intercourse, with Great Britain, mutually affectionate and advantageous.

13th. That it is the right of the British subjects in these colonies to petition the king or either house of Parliament.

Lastly, That it is the indispensable duty of these colonies to the best of sovereigns, to the mother-country, and to themselves, to endeavor, by a loyal and dutiful address to His Majesty, and humble application to both houses of Parliament, to procure the repeal of the act for granting and applying certain stamp duties, of all clauses of any other acts of Parliament whereby the jurisdiction of the admiralty is extended as aforesaid, and of the other late acts for the restriction of the American commerce.

1. Journal of the First Congress of the American Colonies, in Opposition to the Tyrannical Acts of the British Parliament. Held at New York, October 7, 1765 (New York, 1845), pp. 27-29.

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 3

2010-07-03T00:30:00.001-06:00

Albany Plan of Union (1754) by Benjamin Franklin

It turns out, Benjamin Franklin really was one of the smart ones. This is one of those docs that slipped my notice, and the first time I read through it (just a few years ago), I was blown away by Franklin’s forethought.

Here’s some background (mostly from wikipedia):

In the early 1750s, rivalry between England and France over who would control the North American continent led to what is known as the French and Indian Wars. This conflict lasted from 1756 to 1763, and left England the dominant power in the area that now comprises the eastern United States and Canada.

Aware of the strains that war would put on the colonies, English officials suggested a "union between ye Royal, Proprietary & Charter Governments."1 At least some colonial leaders were thinking along the same lines. In June 1754 delegates from most of the northern colonies and representatives from the Six Iroquois Nations met in Albany, New York. There they adopted a "plan of union" drafted by Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania. Under this plan each colonial legislature would elect delegates to an American continental assembly presided over by a royal governor.

The plan is noteworthy in several respects. First of all, Franklin anticipated many of the problems that would beset the government created after independence, such as finance, dealing with the Indian tribes, control of commerce, and defense. In fact, it contains the seeds of true union, and many of these ideas would be revived and adopted in Philadelphia more than thirty years later.

After the plan was unveiled, the Crown did not push it since British officials realized that, if adopted, the plan could create a very powerful entity that His Majesty's Government might not be able to control. The royal counselors need not have worried; the colonists were not ready for union, nor were the colonial assemblies ready to give up their recent and hard-won control over local affairs to a central government. That would not happen until well after the American settlements had declared their independence.

For further reading: Robert C. Newbold, The Albany Congress and the Plan of Union of 1754 (1955).

Footnote 1: The thirteen colonies were divided at the time among those founded or ruled by royal charter (Virginia, New York, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, New Jersey, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia), those that were proprietary in nature, that is, owned by a family or individual (Pennsylvania, Delaware and Maryland), and those that were governed under charters (Rhode Island and Connecticut).

Albany Plan of Union

It is proposed that humble application be made for an act of Parliament of Great Britain, by virtue of which one general government may be formed in America, including all the said colonies, within and under which government each colony may retain its present constitution, except in the particulars wherein a change may be directed by the said act, as hereafter follows.

1. That the said general government be administered by a President-General, to be appointed and supported by the crown; and a Grand Council, to be chosen by the representatives of the people of the several Colonies met in their respective assemblies.

2. That within -- months after the passing such act, the House of Representatives that happen to be sitting within that time, or that shall be especially for that purpose convened, may and shall choose members for the Grand Council, in the following proportion, that is to say,

                  Massachusetts Bay  7
                  New Hampshire      2
                  Connecticut        5
                  Rhode Island       2
                  New York           4
                  New Jersey         3
                  Pennsylvania       6
                  Maryland           4
                  Virginia           7
                  North Carolina     4
                  South Carolina     4
                                  ------                                
                                    48

3. -- who shall meet for the first time at the city of Philadelphia, being called by the President-General as soon as conveniently may be after his appointment.

4. That there shall be a new election of the members of the Grand Council every three years; and, on the death or resignation of any member, his place should be supplied by a new choice at the next sitting of the Assembly of the Colony he represented.

5. That after the first three years, when the proportion of money arising out of each Colony to the general treasury can be known, the number of members to be chosen for each Colony shall, from time to time, in all ensuing elections, be regulated by that proportion, yet so as that the number to be chosen by any one Province be not more than seven, nor less than two.

6. That the Grand Council shall meet once in every year, and oftener if occasion require, at such time and place as they shall adjourn to at the last preceding meeting, or as they shall be called to meet at by the President-General on any emergency; he having first obtained in writing the consent of seven of the members to such call, and sent duly and timely notice to the whole.

7. That the Grand Council have power to choose their speaker; and shall neither be dissolved, prorogued, nor continued sitting longer than six weeks at one time, without their own consent or the special command of the crown.

8. That the members of the Grand Council shall be allowed for their service ten shillings sterling per diem, during their session and journey to and from the place of meeting; twenty miles to be reckoned a day's journey.

9. That the assent of the President-General be requisite to all acts of the Grand Council, and that it be his office and duty to cause them to be carried into execution.

10. That the President-General, with the advice of the Grand Council, hold or direct all Indian treaties, in which the general interest of the Colonies may be concerned; and make peace or declare war with Indian nations.

11. That they make such laws as they judge necessary for regulating all Indian trade.

12. That they make all purchases from Indians, for the crown, of lands not now within the bounds of particular Colonies, or that shall not be within their bounds when some of them are reduced to more convenient dimensions.

13. That they make new settlements on such purchases, by granting lands in the King's name, reserving a quitrent to the crown for the use of the general treasury.

14. That they make laws for regulating and governing such new settlements, till the crown shall think fit to form them into particular governments.

15. That they raise and pay soldiers and build forts for the defence of any of the Colonies, and equip vessels of force to guard the coasts and protect the trade on the ocean, lakes, or great rivers; but they shall not impress men in any Colony, without the consent of the Legislature.

16. That for these purposes they have power to make laws, and lay and levy such general duties, imposts, or taxes, as to them shall appear most equal and just (considering the ability and other circumstances of the inhabitants in the several Colonies), and such as may be collected with the least inconvenience to the people; rather discouraging luxury, than loading industry with unnecessary burdens.

17. That they may appoint a General Treasurer and Particular Treasurer in each government when necessary; and, from time to time, may order the sums in the treasuries of each government into the general treasury; or draw on them for special payments, as they find most convenient.

18. Yet no money to issue but by joint orders of the President-General and Grand Council; except where sums have been appropriated to particular purposes, and the President-General is previously empowered by an act to draw such sums.

19. That the general accounts shall be yearly settled and reported to the several Assemblies.

20. That a quorum of the Grand Council, empowered to act with the President-General, do consist of twenty-five members; among whom there shall be one or more from a majority of the Colonies.

21. That the laws made by them for the purposes aforesaid shall not be repugnant, but, as near as may be, agreeable to the laws of England, and shall be transmitted to the King in Council for approbation, as soon as may be after their passing; and if not disapproved within three years after presentation, to remain in force.

22. That, in case of the death of the President-General, the Speaker of the Grand Council for the time being shall succeed, and be vested with the same powers and authorities, to continue till the King's pleasure be known.

23. That all military commission officers, whether for land or sea service, to act under this general constitution, shall be nominated by the President-General; but the approbation of the Grand Council is to be obtained, before they receive their commissions. And all civil officers are to be nominated by the Grand Council, and to receive the President-General's approbation before they officiate.

24. But, in case of vacancy by death or removal of any officer, civil or military, under this constitution, the Governor of the Province in which such vacancy happens may appoint, till the pleasure of the President-General and Grand Council can be known.

25. That the particular military as well as civil establishments in each Colony remain in their present state, the general constitution notwithstanding; and that on sudden emergencies any Colony may defend itself, and lay the accounts of expense thence arising before the President-General and General Council, who may allow and order payment of the same, as far as they judge such accounts just and reasonable.

Source: Leonard Larrabee, ed., Papers of Benjamin Franklin, vol. 5 (1959), 387-92.

Documents of Freedom: Day 2—“The freemen have assented.”

2010-07-02T23:54:00.001-06:00

The Maryland Toleration Act (1649): “To preserve mutual love and amity amongst the inhabitants”

“Toleration” here is a bit of an overstatement. This one impressed my kids. It has many problems—like the death penalty for taking the Lord's name in vain. But, it protected citizens from the charge of “heresy” and was the beginning of the notion of religious freedom in America and, therefore, a step in the right direction.

If I’m short on time (which I was this week), I just read paragraphs 2 and 6 (in bold here). Love the ending: “The freemen have assented.”

An Act Concerning Religion.

Forasmuch as in a well governed and Christian Common Weath matters concerning Religion and the honor of God ought in the first place to bee taken, into serious consideracion and endeavoured to bee settled, Be it therefore ordered and enacted by the Right Honourable Cecilius Lord Baron of Baltemore absolute Lord and Proprietary of this Province with the advise and consent of this Generall Assembly:

That whatsoever person or persons within this Province and the Islands thereunto belonging shall from henceforth blaspheme God, that is Curse him, or deny our Saviour Jesus Christ to bee the sonne of God, or shall deny the holy Trinity the father sonne and holy Ghost, or the Godhead of any of the said Three persons of the Trinity or the Unity of the Godhead, or shall use or utter any reproachfull Speeches, words or language concerning the said Holy Trinity, or any of the said three persons thereof, shalbe punished with death and confiscation or forfeiture of all his or her lands and goods to the Lord Proprietary and his heires.

And bee it also Enacted by the Authority and with the advise and assent aforesaid, That whatsoever person or persons shall from henceforth use or utter any reproachfull words or Speeches concerning the blessed Virgin Mary the Mother of our Saviour or the holy Apostles or Evangelists or any of them shall in such case for the first offence forfeit to the said Lord Proprietary and his heirs Lords and Proprietaries of this Province the summe of five pound Sterling or the value thereof to be Levyed on the goods and chattells of every such person soe offending, but in case such Offender or Offenders, shall not then have goods and chattells sufficient for the satisfyeing of such forfeiture, or that the same bee not otherwise speedily satisfyed that then such Offender or Offenders shalbe publiquely whipt and bee imprisoned during the pleasure of the Lord Proprietary or the Lieutenant or cheife Governor of this Province for the time being. And that every such Offender or Offenders for every second offence shall forfeit tenne pound sterling or the value thereof to bee levyed as aforesaid, or in case such offender or Offenders shall not then have goods and chattells within this Province sufficient for that purpose then to bee publiquely and severely whipt and imprisoned as before is expressed. And that every person or persons before mentioned offending herein the third time, shall for such third Offence forfeit all his lands and Goods and bee for ever banished and expelled out of this Province.

And be it also further Enacted by the same authority advise and assent that whatsoever person or persons shall from henceforth uppon any occasion of Offence or otherwise in a reproachful manner or Way declare call or denominate any person or persons whatsoever inhabiting, residing, traffiqueing, trading or comerceing within this Province or within any the Ports, Harbors, Creeks or Havens to the same belonging an heritick, Scismatick, Idolator, puritan, Independant, Prespiterian popish prest, Jesuite, Jesuited papist, Lutheran, Calvenist, Anabaptist, Brownist, Antinomian, Barrowist, Roundhead, Separatist, or any other name or terme in a reproachfull manner relating to matter of Religion shall for every such Offence forfeit and loose the somme of tenne shillings sterling or the value thereof to bee levyed on the goods and chattells of every such Offender and Offenders, the one half thereof to be forfeited and paid unto the person and persons of whom such reproachfull words are or shalbe spoken or uttered, and the other half thereof to the Lord Proprietary and his heires Lords and Proprietaries of this Province. But if such person or persons who shall at any time utter or speake any such reproachfull words or Language shall not have Goods or Chattells sufficient and overt within this Province to bee taken to satisfie the penalty aforesaid or that the same bee not otherwise speedily satisfyed, that then the person or persons soe offending shalbe publickly whipt, and shall suffer imprisonment without baile or maineprise [bail] untill hee, shee or they respectively shall satisfy the party soe offended or greived by such reproachfull Language by asking him or her respectively forgivenes publiquely for such his Offence before the Magistrate of cheife Officer or Officers of the Towne or place where such Offence shalbe given.

And be it further likewise Enacted by the Authority and consent aforesaid That every person and persons within this Province that shall at any time hereafter prophane the Sabbath or Lords day called Sunday by frequent swearing, drunkennes or by any uncivill or disorderly recreacion, or by working on that day when absolute necessity doth not require it shall for every such first offence forfeit 2s 6d sterling or the value thereof, and for the second offence 5ssterling or the value thereof, and for the third offence and soe for every time he shall offend in like manner afterwards 10s sterling or the value thereof. And in case such offender and offenders shall not have sufficient goods or chattells within this Province to satisfy any of the said Penalties respectively hereby imposed for prophaning the Sabbath or Lords day called Sunday as aforesaid, That in Every such case the partie soe offending shall for the first and second offence in that kinde be imprisoned till hee or shee shall publickly in open Court before the cheife Commander Judge or Magistrate, of that County Towne or precinct where such offence shalbe committed acknowledg the Scandall and offence he hath in that respect given against God and the good and civill Governement of this Province, And for the third offence and for every time after shall also bee publickly whipt.

And whereas the inforceing of the conscience in matters of Religion hath frequently fallen out to be of dangerous Consequence in those commonwealthes where it hath been practised, And for the more quiett and peaceable governement of this Province, and the better to preserve mutuall Love and amity amongst the Inhabitants thereof, Be it Therefore also by the Lord Proprietary with the advise and consent of this Assembly Ordeyned and enacted (except as in this present Act is before Declared and sett forth) that noe person or persons whatsoever within this Province, or the Islands, Ports, Harbors, Creekes, or havens thereunto belonging professing to beleive in Jesus Christ, shall from henceforth bee any waies troubled, Molested or discountenanced for or in respect of his or her religion nor in the free exercise thereof within this Province or the Islands thereunto belonging nor any way compelled to the beleife or exercise of any other Religion against his or her consent, soe as they be not unfaithfull to the Lord Proprietary, or molest or conspire against the civill Governement established or to bee established in this Province under him or his heires. And that all and every person and persons that shall presume Contrary to this Act and the true intent and meaning thereof directly or indirectly either in person or estate willfully to wrong disturbe trouble or molest any person whatsoever within this Province professing to beleive in Jesus Christ for or in respect of his or her religion or the free exercise thereof within this Province other than is provided for in this Act that such person or persons soe offending, shalbe compelled to pay trebble damages to the party soe wronged or molested, and for every such offence shall also forfeit 20ssterling in money or the value thereof, half thereof for the use of the Lord Proprietary, and his heires Lords and Proprietaries of this Province, and the other half for the use of the party soe wronged or molested as aforesaid, Or if the partie soe offending as aforesaid shall refuse or bee unable to recompense the party soe wronged, or to satisfy such fyne or forfeiture, then such Offender shalbe severely punished by publick whipping and imprisonment during the pleasure of the Lord Proprietary, or his Lieutenant or cheife Governor of this Province for the tyme being without baile or maineprise.

And bee it further alsoe Enacted by the authority and consent aforesaid That the Sheriff or other Officer or Officers from time to time to bee appointed and authorized for that purpose, of the County Towne or precinct where every particular offence in this present Act conteyned shall happen at any time to bee committed and whereupon there is hereby a forfeiture fyne or penalty imposed shall from time to time distraine and seise the goods and estate of every such person soe offending as aforesaid against this present Act or any part thereof, and sell the same or any part thereof for the full satisfaccion of such forfeiture, fine, or penalty as aforesaid, Restoring unto the partie soe offending the Remainder or overplus of the said goods or estate after such satisfaccion soe made as aforesaid.

The freemen have assented.

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 1

2010-06-29T12:08:00.001-06:00

The Mayflower Compact: Signed November 11, 1620

Our Documents of Freedom Week started on Sunday—leading into July 4th for the big doc. This is an excellent opportunity for my kids to do a whole lot of eye-rolling and groaning about how they’re the “ONLY ONES” (very common refrain over here) who have to read 400-year-old documents.

So, here’s the first doc: The Mayflower Compact: Signed November 11, 1620
One of these years, I’m going to back up to 1215 and read the Magna Carta, but the Mayflower Compact is nice and short which helps to lower the coefficient of freakout for family reading.

The original document was lost, but the transcriptions in Mourt's Relation and William Bradford's journal Of Plymouth Plantation are in agreement and accepted as accurate. Bradford's hand written manuscript is kept in a special vault at the State Library of Massachusetts.^[4] Bradford's transcription is as follows:

In the name of God, Amen. We whose names are underwritten, the loyal subjects of our dread Sovereign Lord King James, by the Grace of God of Great Britain, France and Ireland, King, Defender of the Faith, etc.Having undertaken, for the Glory of God and advancement of the Christian Faith and Honour of our King and Country, a Voyage to plant the First Colony in the Northern Parts of Virginia, do by these presents solemnly and mutually in the presence of God and one of another, Covenant and Combine ourselves together into a Civil Body Politic, for our better ordering and preservation and furtherance of the ends aforesaid; and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute and frame such just and equal Laws, Ordinances, Acts, Constitutions and Offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the general good of the Colony, unto which we promise all due submission and obedience. In witness whereof we have hereunder subscribed our names at Cape Cod, the 11th of November, in the year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord King James, of England, France and Ireland the eighteenth, and of Scotland the fifty-fourth. Anno Domini 1620.^[5]^[3]

Love that first sentence!

____________________________

The Stinking Dead Fish of Storytelling

2010-06-01T02:57:00.001-06:00

Sorry, everyone. You already read this. It was my first blog post back in 2008. I was just trying to clean up the ridiculous formatting mess, and somehow I managed to re-post it. . . Now, on with your day.

I want to love opera . . . really, I do. I love the soaring arias, the rich baritone voices, grand choruses blasting me with the glory of the music—so much excellence and effort represented in every production, many lifetimes of practice and rehearsal on stage.

Beyond the music, I love the extravagant sets, the dazzling costumes! So many sensory pleasures crammed into a single event.

Are you convinced? I really want to love opera. And, I do . . . except for one tiny detail . . . the plots. Or, I should say, "the lack of plot." Opera plots stink. They are the dead fish of storytelling.

Honestly, with the amount of effort and money that went into those grand operas, couldn't anyone have thrown a few bones at a decent writer to put some story into it? Why not? Why pretend we're telling a story (sets, costumes, the fog machines for the love of Pete!), when we have to trudge through the misery of the opera plot?

Opera-lovers will call me a Philistine. How pedestrian to need a plot—and obtuse! But, please look with fresh eyes at one of the greatest—the very best that the opera world produced: Verdi's Aida.

(Sorry, Wagner will not even get an honorable mention here—nothing for the man who sweats syrup.)

I just saw a delightful production last week done by Utah Festival Opera. The performance was impeccable: brilliant soloists, huge choruses, exquisite sets—three intermissions! But, the excellent production couldn't overcome the congenital problem—the defect of birth—no plot! Nothing happens on stage--literally. The opera goes (roughly) like this:

Collection of people on stage singing: La, Laaa. Something happened before the curtain came up, there was a battle, we are patriotic. Egypt is great. Aida fell in love. Things happened, but you missed it, because it all happened before this opera began. Ahaaaaaaaa!
Re-arrange the same collection of people: Aaah, aaaah. I love Radames, but I long for my homeland. I'll never be happy.
Turn set upside down for different look. Add another group of people (same guys, different costumes)—still everyone standing around doing nothing: Hark! Ethopian slaves! Aida's father is one of them. We're very sad. We long for our homeland.
Re-arrange again: There was another battle. You missed it because it happened during intermission, but Radamses won again. BIG, AMAZING CHORUS—sounds like the end. . . (psych!)
Out of love for Aida, Radamses accidentally reveals plans for the next battle. (Okay, I concede something did happen here.)
He's condemned (offstage again) to die for his treason by being buried alive in a tomb. Oooohh, Oh!
Aida sneaks into the tomb so they can die there together. Biggest opera of all time ends with the dying stars singing a diminishing duet. (No way is this the end!)

I left out all the meandering with the extraneous love interest that comes to nothing. (Gotta have something for the mezzo.)

You call that a story? I'm telling you, the opera emperor is naked, and we continue to shell out $50 a ticket (I sit in the cheap seats) for NO PLOT!

An Idea

I propose a solution to the stinking opera plot. (If I ever come into great sums of money, I will oversee this myself.) We need to rehabilitate the grand operas. Pay some seriously good writers to take the brilliant music of the masters and give us a good story already! So when it's over, we're truly satisfied—catharsis. Our bearings are reset, and we're ready to step back into life, revitalized, ready to live and love.

Is that too much to ask?

With the glorious music, it should be a cinch. Take, for example, La Boheme, the most pathetic of them all, where the brilliant-music-to-crappy-plot ratio soars the highest, and the characters are so pathetic, you can't care about them at all. (Please . . . stay with me here . . . )

Mimi the seamstress is "co-habitating" with Rudolfo the poet and his student friends. They're all poor—too poor, in fact, for Rudolpho to pay for medical care when Mimi contracts the dreaded consumption. She coughs and coughs and Rudolfo sings that he can't stand to be with her anymore—her coughing drives him crazy and reminds him that he can't provide for her. (What a guy!) They agree to split up in the spring. (This is supposed to be romantic somehow. Go figure.) Mimi moves in with a viscount, but leaves him too (What a girl!) and wanders the streets until Rudolfo hears that she's homeless. He takes her back just in time for them to sing a glorious duet before she dies. (How noble!) The opera ends and we pretend that those people were worth all that breath. (Did you hear the thud?)

Imagine, now that Stephenie Meyer gets her hands on Puccini's music, and instead of the wimpy, Rudolpho, whining about Mimi's illness, we have the noble, self-sacrificing Edward, in all his luxurious restraint, coming to the rescue. Think of the tension that would snap into those soprano-tenor duets if they included Edward's thirst for Bella's blood, his longing for her scent and the tremor of her heartbeat. Instead of the village scenes, the school and Phoenix airport. Instead of the courtyard, the forest. Appealing, isn't it?

I know this would work.

Imagine that Orson Scott Card put Ender's Shadow into The Magic Flute! Honestly, I have no idea how that would work, but I'm confident that OSC could pull it off beautifully, and I'll bet he could do it without the misogyny.

Give Tosca to Frank McCourt, Turandot to Jeannette Walls, and to lighten it up, we could beg the great one, JK Rowling, to re-do Faustus. And to be sure we've covered the whole spectrum, let Dave Barry re-write Gianni Schicchi—oh the humanity!

The writer in me screams for justice, but like any addict, I'll continue to feed on a drug I can't afford because I can't stay away from the music—I love it too much!

Theological Landmines . . . or . . . Questions I Hadn't Anticipated

2010-05-27T02:00:00.000-06:00

"How come we all get to get resurrected but not babies in tummies?"

Yes, I got that question today. Eden was serious and I had no answer.

It snuck up on me. She started with, "When will your baby get resurrected?"
"Well, I don't think she gets resurrected. . . . I mean, she wasn't all the way a baby. I think. But, I did see her arms and legs moving. . . I have no idea."

And, then I can see that "no fair" look on her face, and she slams me with, "How come we all get to get resurrected but not babies in tummies?" Ahhh, the old familiar slap of theological ambivalence. (It cracks me up when I hear non-believers accuse religious people of being "so black and white." I wish!)

I swear children are born understanding the concept of resurrection. Nothing makes more sense to them than the notion that whatever/whoever has died will one day wake up and be alive again. What they can't understand is why it's taking so long.

Nancy was only four when I heard her tell a cousin, "When Grandma Nonie gets resurrected, we're going to get a dog." A long string of very rational, inductive reasoning brought her to this verity (I'll fill in another time), but what matters is, I could tell by her tone of voice that this event was absolutely secure and just around the corner in her mind.

So, I should not have been surprised that Eden wanted to nail down exactly how this resurrection business would work for our family now.

After a couple of false starts at answering, I had to end with, "We just don't know--would you like a taco?"

(I'm a coward.)

"I have chemo tomorrow. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you."

2010-05-21T00:23:00.000-06:00

Seriously, I got an email from a friend with those exact words. And she meant it.

After three weeks of bed rest and much jubilation that I had finally stopped bleeding, I found out on Tuesday that my baby (12 weeks) no longer had a heart beat.

The pregnancy was tenuous, so it hadn't made facebook yet, but my heart had already shifted from "MOE" (mother of eight) to "MON" (mother of nine). And the kids' had done the same.

I have my few baby girl clothes in the baby slot in my closet. (Just what's left from a box that got lost and never used. Everything else I gave away.) I need to put those somewhere. And put the Pack n Play deep in the fruit room. And, the double stroller. . .

I need to adjust my plans. No baby November 30th. (David could have registered to teach at AutoDesk University that week.) No redo of the family nativity picture with a new baby. A thousand very small, almost imperceptible adjustments--together they make a wave that rolls over me and back again, an invisible tide.

As a counterwave, I have my life: too many children (read: interruptions) to keep up grief for more than a minute or two. I also have my gift for procrastination that even reaches into grieving: just like laundry, I can actually put off my grief until I'm "in the mood" to be sad. I've been doing that fabulously while I've waited for the miscarriage to start.

I decided to lay my anxiety to rest and finally had a D&C this morning. I'm relieved. And sad. It's over. She's really gone.

On my way to bed, I ruminate on how much sadness I'll allow myself to feel when I lie down. And, then my last look at email . . . and there's that line: "I have chemo tomorrow. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you." Oh, the blessed irony of it! It's part of a very sweet note of consolation from someone who really has reasons to complain. And, because I know the life she leads, I know she means it. She threw in the chemo comment just to explain that she'd be tied up in the morning. And, suddenly, I'm laughing and crying. . . and thinking . . .

. . . maybe I can blog about this after all.

Thank you, Deanne, and all my D6 friends and ResponsibleWomen, and family for the many comforting words, dinners and banana breads, watching my kids during the bed rest even though it came to nothing. You're all part of my counterwave, the sine for the cosine of my grief.

Friendship is a rich and priceless gift . . . a kind of baby. I feel wealthy!

Thank you!

(Davie, please notice: I used a math metaphor there. I'd like credit for that. Thanks.)

My Girls' Lax

2010-05-12T22:51:00.000-06:00

We had a great game yesterday. The girls played hard.

Fun write up here.

Opening lines were my favorite:

"Junior attack Nancy Linford registered a game-high five points on four goals and one assist to lead No. 17 Alta to a 17-2 victory over Park City in a Utah Lacrosse Association Division I semifinal Tuesday night at Juan Diego Catholic High School. . .

The Hawks have outscored their opponents, 269-46.

Tuesday’s game was more of the same for a team that is playing a different level than the rest of the state."

State game on Saturday in Bountiful.

Something for Earth Day: My Rainforest

2010-04-22T23:53:00.000-06:00

Hi friends, this post (marriage: my rainforest) has been reposted here:
http://guardmarriage.com/marriage-politics

I have to take it off my blog, so it won't impact the other site's search results for being repeat content. I've just left the ending here, since they didn't take it with the rest of the essay.

Ciao!
Sally

Please, keep talking . . . "Who overcomes by force, hath overcome but half his foe" (Milton)

photo credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/neanderthal/3721585903/

My Best Lesson Yet!

2010-04-12T01:46:00.000-06:00

Bondage, Passover, and Exodus
That was the title of today's lesson. . . . Oh, haven't mentioned, I teach Gospel Doctrine? . . .That's because I just barely admitted it to myself (even after 6 months).

It's my bi-weekly heart attack . . . and the closest I have ever come to saying no to a calling. (fyi: in my family, saying no to a calling is roughly the equivalent of . . . oh, I don't know what--but something awful--truly awful. And, I'm nobly passing on this fine tradition to my own children.)

Today was my best lesson ever!

I've been dreading it because it covers so much and it's so important--basically, everything between the death of Joseph and the Exodus out of Egypt--no sweat.
Moses' miraculous rescue, his childhood as a prince of Egypt, going out to look at "his" people, defending the slave, killing the Egyptian, escape into Midian, life with Reuel/Jethro and Zipporah, children born, meeting with God, burning bush, prophetic calling, rejection by the Pharaoh and the Israelites (he had the toughest job! even worse than Gospel Doctrine teacher), 10 plagues, institution of Passover (don't forget to tie it into the Last Supper and institution of the Sacrament), gather spoils of Egypt, prep to leave, the big exit, Pillar of Fire / Cloud, walk through the Red Sea. Egypt decimated, Israel free.
I left Sacrament Meeting during the closing hymn to set up my awesome powerpoint. Went for a quick hair check, and coming back into the room, I heard the most magical words: "I thought I had the lesson?"

Yes! She did. I blew it. Joy! Peace! Love! (Finally, a weakness becomes a strength--calendar problems.)
I absolutely insisted that my fine partner proceed with her lesson. It was delightful. I was totally prepared and didn't have to go through with it--the greatest of all possibilities.

I love my calling!

Can someone please explain the freaky formatting issues in blogger? This is getting ridiculous.

Shill Sisters Conference

2010-03-30T11:51:00.000-06:00

I don’t usually have two sisters’ conferences in one month, but somehow it happened this year.

Our Shill conference started when we met at the Assembly Hall on Temple Square for a zipping concert of the St. Michael Trio. Wow! It was perfect music and the perfect way to start our summit! I’m so mad we didn’t get a pict. We must have been too overwhelmed by the music!

We missed Elizabeth who was in Guatemala picking up Heather from her mission and Katrina who was coming up for Easter and couldn’t do the trip twice. Amy and Danae joined us Friday night and Saturday, but we never got a picture all together. Ug.

Here are a few highlights.

Sorry, Dad, I’m not great with the timer, and your mantle is to dang high!

Marsali practiced every spare minute she had, making do with the sorry accompanists who had to take turns to keep up with her.

Emily typed her recipes right up to the bitter end.

Party favors! Book about Grandma Inie (with journals of Cora Lindsay Ashton), sealing wax & signet, lemon hand soap, basil seeds, bookmark, and spatula extraordinaire.

Danae read a true life Hallmark story that her parents lived through—amazing!

Saying good-bye.

Sunday evening, Emily joined me, singing with the Draper Temple Choir for a fireside in the Tabernacle. What a place!

David and his brothers, Austin and Ray, also sang in the choir. That's Ray who looks like he's standing next to me.

Between rehearsal and fireside.

Sorry about the eyes, Em, but it was such a cute picture otherwise, I thought your public should have it.

When Little Girls Play "Guns"

2010-03-09T07:46:00.000-07:00

I've noticed something about little girls: their play and work involve a lot of talking. And, I mean A LOT: Talk . . . plan . . . talk some more.

Our cute neighbor boys like to play with guns. They run hard and play what looks to me like random war games: run, chase, duck, feint, serpentine, . . . rinse and repeat. From what I can tell, there is no talking required. They could be deaf and dumb without hampering the game at all.

I don't actually have toy guns--not out of any principle, just lack of interest. But Jonathan has shown the girls how anything with a right angle can be a firearm. Grab the short end and the long end transforms into a gunbarrel: K'Nex, legos, even a Barbie--bent at the waist, she's Napolean's double barrel pistol.

Today, this happened with a tabletop easel.

My easel broke in half at the hinges, making (if you're hugely creative) a perfectly matched set of handguns. Eden brought Alice into the entry for gunplay. Here's the conversation I overheard:

EDEN: "Alice, YOU stand here. . . . I'LL stand here," (3 feet apart, facing each other). "Now, you shoot me, and I shoot you." [Seriously, this had to be discussed.]
ALICE: "No, I shoot!" [This makes no sense: she's two and just needs to say 'no'.]
EDEN: "Ready, go! . . . pieou, pieou . . . pieou, pieou, . . . pieou!" [These are little girl gun sounds.]
"Now, we put our guns down and do 'Ring around the Rosies'."
[Begin rosies and posies, end gun play.]

So goes the warfare of little girls. Aren't girls great?

. . . and when the Huns show up at the border, I think I prefer the warfare of little boys. Boys are great, too!

Whatever you do, don't try to tell me it's environmental! Jonathan made his first Barbie-gun when he was two years old, back when I didn't allow guns of any kind in the house. Nice try, Mom.

In Defense of Snails and Flies

2010-01-29T23:31:00.000-07:00

I don't want to be the girl who complains about the weather . . . in Utah . . . in January.

So I won't.

Instead of telling you how it's been 3 solid weeks since I've seen that HUGE MOUNTAIN right in front of my house, I'm going to reminisce about summer and my pots.

I'm thinking, we gave Eden the right name.

I have a sea green flower pot that sits low on one of the landings of my front walk. I fill it with white petunias, some pink begonias, and a sea green vine.

I love this pot.

Last summer, I had the horror of finding several large, juicy snails eating their way through the petunias and begonias. Enraged, I threw the snails to the ground as hard as I could, breaking their shells.

Eden is my witness and accuser. Her high-pitched voice screamed in distress: "MOM! You broke his house! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!"

In the echo of her accusation, my answer sounded thin. "They were eating my flowers."

"SO! YOU BROKE HIS HOUSE?! How would you like it if somebody broke your house."

This struck a memory.

Just a few weeks before, I had heard something similar as I swatted flies in my kitchen: "MOM, THINK OF HOW THE FLY FEELS! THINK. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF SOMEONE SWATTED YOU?"

Honestly, I'm not much of a bug killer. When I find them outside, I feel like I am in their space and give them a shoo. But my kitchen is my space, and I can't cook with flies around. So, in the summer, when my children leave the doors open day and night, I have an evening ritual of purging the flies before I cook.

I'm thinking that whatever connection Eve had with the garden and the animals, survives still in my Eden.

Isn't she sweet?

Linguistic Gymnastics: Thoughts of an 8 Year Old

2009-09-01T20:15:00.000-06:00

"Mom, can you lick your own tongue?"

Joanne asked me that as she rolled her tongue around in her mouth. I had to think about it. I don't know, can you lick your own tongue?

And is she really asking about the capacity of the human tongue or could she be probing the boundaries of the word "lick"? I don't know, but I'm completely fascinated that she could even conceive the thought.

After some consideration, I've decided, no, you can't lick your own tongue--like the mirrors in the celestial room where you can't see yourself in the repeating reflection, only the repeated reflection of the person standing next to you--only someone else can lick your tongue, linguistically or otherwise.

Ew. That was gross.

The Last Night of Summer

2009-08-22T20:52:00.000-06:00

It's pitch black outside, and I can still hear my children squealing as they ride their bikes around the circle with the neighbor children. I should call them in and put them to bed, but tonight is the last night of Summer. (Sundays don't count.) Monday morning, Joanne, Lizzy, and Sarah head off to school; the rest of them start Wednesday. Play on, sweet peeps! Play as late as you want tonight. I hate to see Summer end, but I'm torn. The last two weeks, my little girls have lazed around complaining, "There's nothing to do," They avoid all forms of work and have tuned out the sound of my voice completely. Just last week I was complaining that I've had enough of summer. Now that it's really ending . . . I'm sad. I have loved the warm nights and hanging flower pots, hours and hours of play time, and the almost constant baking projects (the inescapable fate of a woman with 7 daughters). My kitchen never rests. Lately, we've had lemon bars and Margarita cupcakes,brownies, Texas sheet cakes (many), cookies of every variety (not always recognizable), and loaves and loaves bread (Sarah's newest venture). Somehow the cooking falls back to me when the sun sets earlier and everyone's in school. David just whistled out the window for everyone to come in. Lizzy yelled back, "But, Dad, we're playing Ghost in the Graveyard." "Okay," he said. I guess we're of one mind tonight.

Tooth Fairy Followup

2009-08-17T23:01:00.000-06:00

Marguerite lost another tooth. Here's the note she left with her tooth:

Dear Tooth fery, You can giv my haw [You can give me how] much muny you wont.

She's a quick study!

Letter to the Tooth Fairy

2009-07-10T18:21:00.000-06:00

My daughter, (please, let her marry a wealthy man), just lost her first tooth. She left this note, in grey crayon, for the Tooth Fairy:

Dear toth fery
Can yuo giv me 20 dolrs?

Unfortunately for her, the Draper Tooth Fairy is a little absent-minded (as all my children know) and forgot to retrieve the tooth that night. In the morning, I saw her thinking deeply about something. She said, "The Tooth Fairy didn't come last night. [Ouch.] I wonder if it's because I asked for 20 dollars."

She's a thinker!

Desert Poetry

2009-06-27T21:36:00.000-06:00

We're in Arizona, visiting Emily. It's been a long time, maybe 5 years, since I've been here. Intellectually, I remember that the temperature exceeds 115 regularly; biologically, my body is incapable of adjusting to that reality.

I want to apologize to all you family and friends for dragging you to Arizona in June for our wedding. Yesterday, we took our kids to see the Mesa temple, thinking they might have some passing interest in THE place that facilitated their existence. We couldn't even get a good picture, everyone was moaning and complaining that their lives were in peril.

It made me think of this poem that was taped up on the wall in my dad's office. I was 11 or 12 when I read it for the first time, and I thought it was the most pithy, witty poem I had ever read. I'll put it in brown in honor of the landscape.

The devil wanted a place on earth
Sort of a summer home
A place to spend his vacation Whenever he wanted to roam.
So he picked out Arizona A place both wretched and rough Where the climate was to his liking And the cowboys hardened and tough.
He dried up the streams in the canyons And ordered no rain to fall He dried up the lakes in the valleys Then baked and scorched it all.
Then over his barren country He transplanted shrubs from hell.
. . .
Then he made scorpions and lizards And the ugly old horned toad. He placed spiders of every description Under rocks by the side of the road.
Then he ordered the sun to shine hotter, Hotter and hotter still. Until even the cactus wilted And the old horned lizard took ill.
. . .
'Twas summer now and Satan lay By a prickly pear to rest. The sweat rolled off his swarthy brow So he took off his coat and vest.
"By Golly, " he finally panted, "I did my job too well, I'm going back to where I came from, Arizona is hotter than Hell."

Next Up: Overdosing on Nostalgia . . . OR . . . "You Can't Go Home Again Angel"

Happy Anniversary, David, . . . [OR] "I cannot heave my heart into my mouth."

2009-06-13T14:21:00.000-06:00

King Lear's daughter, Cordelia, speaks those words when her father tries to cajole her into declaring her love for him. When I read that for the first time, it sunk deep into me with resonating familiarity.

That's me.

Add to that, I once had a religion teacher or bishop, or someone with some influence over me, give a lecture on testimony sharing:

"Your testimony should never be the cause of pain for someone listening, and if you do it right, it won't be. If you rave about how much you love your husband, how are those people supposed to feel who don't have a husband? Or children? Or what about people in a difficult marriage. A testimony should never do that. Share about things that are universal."

That also left an impression on me. So what's my point here?

Today is our 18th wedding anniversary. And, David has never heard me gush over him—publicly, that is, which personally I think is completely appropriate, but maybe not very fun when the rest of the world can at least count on an honorable mention once a year or so.

With that languishing introduction . . . Happy Anniversary, David.

When I married you, my orbit changed. You invited me into your gravity, and I'm still here. All of our experience together—the good and hard, bad and hard—it all adds to the mass, increasing the gravity. Will you forgive me if I fall back on a better wordsmith? (I'm feeling inadequate in this public setting.)

To whom I owe the leaping delight

That quickens my senses in our wakingtime

And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime,

The breathing in unison

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other

Who think the same thoughts without the need of speech

And babble the same speech without need of meaning.

No peevish winter wind shall chill

No sullen tropic sun shall wither

The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only

But this dedication is for others to read:

These are private words addressed to you in public. T.S. Eliot

How do I thank you for the late nights and early mornings, long discussions, listening. . . always listening, carefully listening? And, the fun—always, so much fun to be with you. Thank you.

I love you.

Sally

(How'd I do, Love?)

More Strange Conversations with Little Girls

2009-06-13T13:07:00.000-06:00

We had violent thunderstorms this week--Arizona style, but with much more rainfall. Standing at the ironing board during one of these storms, I heard Marguerite muttering to herself:

"Tornados and stickers . . . swine flu."

(This is my girl who still won't sit through a fireworks show.)

"What are you talking about, Daisy?"

"I'm just sick of a world with tornados and thunder and thorns and stickers and swine flu. I want to live in a world without those."

Can you blame her?

Strange Conversations with Little Girls

2009-06-12T17:19:00.000-06:00

Another conversation with Marguerite:

"Mom, I want to impress Lilly by being spoiled. . . .just for 1 day. Please, please, please. Spoil me for just one day?" What on earth is she talking about? Does she seriously understand the concept of 'spoiling' or 'impressing'? Who put these ideas into her head.

"Why will this impress Lilly?" I ask. "Cause it looks cute."

Cute to be spoiled??? I'm baffled. "What do you mean it looks cute?
"It's cool, it's fun, it's awesome." Hmm. This sounds like a script.

"What are you talking about?"

"I want to impress Lilly by getting a book that has a CD--a toy CD and CD player."

"Does Lilly have one of those?"

"No. Please . . . I'm serious. I want to impress Lilly. Say yes or no! Please.

Well, that's easy. "No."

"But you get what you want!"

"Actually, I only get what I want some of the time. Like right now, I'm tired, and I'd like to go to bed, but I can't really do that."

Eden walks in carrying my George Washington doll and hands it to me: "Mom, sleep with it. He can be your comfort doll."

Who are these people!

(NOTE TO SELF: next FHE discuss the futility of trying to impress.)

Jane Austen Night

2009-06-05T12:40:00.000-06:00

My dearest family,

Most regrettably, our Draper parish neglected to make arrangements for the traditional Fathers & Sons encampment this year--an oversight most egregious and NOT to be borne. In consequence of which, the most excellent proceedings of our annual Jane Austen Night have been derailed, though, I hope, only temporarily.

Being the distinguished institution that it is and SO fondly anticipated by the Linford girls, I propose that we proceed with our own plans, without delay. I will offer several options for your consideration.

June 16th presents itself as the half-birthday of our beloved patron, Miss Austen herself. What do you say to celebrating on that day, or if you'd prefer we could delay festivities until the week end, which would be Friday the 19th or Saturday, the 20th.

Do reply without delay. I am so looking forward to being together again at last for J.A. Night.

Your most faithful and devoted sister,

Sally

8 Hours at a Salon, and I Only Look Slightly Worse . . . phew! . . . Disaster Averted.

2009-04-03T01:39:00.000-06:00

I went to get my hair colored at 10:30 this morning with these instructions: "Cover the grey with my natural brown, and how about a few highlights on the top and around my face?" (Summer's coming, and I was in the mood.)

By about 20 mintues into the foils, I suspected something was going terribly wrong. When she was still foiling after an hour, she got another girl to start on the other side. (This was for the "few around my face.")

Somwhere in the back of my head, I heard a little voice say, What happens when two artists share one canvas?

Then I felt the new girl smashing the foils into my head, and I had a whisp of memory of my hair-dresser neighbor telling me, "You never want to push down on a foil--it will leave blobs of bleach. "

Again, that voice in my head, This can't end well.

It took 4 hours.

Even with it dripping wet, I could see the tiger stripes. In a very calm voice, I express my concern. She says, "If the highlights are too bright, we can put a little toner on it."

"Do that."

After the toner, I still have my doubts, but I'm late picking up Nancy from school. I decide to let it dry and be optimistic.

No amount of optimism can overcome the truth of the situation.

When Nancy sees me, she asks, "Isn't your book club tonight? . . .So, what are you going to do? . . ." Tactfully, she dodges the actual words.

I run Nancy to the DMV to get her driver's license (moment of silence, please!), then run back to pick up the little girls from school.

Lizzy is more direct: "Oh my gosh! Mom, what happened to your hair? Did you WANT it black and orange?" Joanne adds to the shock. We ruminate for a moment on Halloween hair.

In the car, I look more closely and realize that in spite of the tiger stripes and white spots, I can still see grey. Incredible! I think and think and rack my brain for what on earth they could possibly have done to make it worse?

I go back to get Nancy at the DMV, sign away my life and all future earnings so that she can drive. (The nice lady informs me that at any time I may come in and "revoke that signature which will, in turn, revoke Nancy's license," thereby irrevocably terminating our relationship. But nice to know. Thanks.)

We head straight back to the high school for her lacrosse practice where I drop her off. I return (having been gone since 10:30 this morning) to the salon. My hair is completely dry at this point--no discussion required. "How about an all-over dark brown?"

My hair is now a very standard, not to mention thrashed-to-high-heaven, dark brown. My scalp is tender and I smell like a chemical spill.

No, I did not take a picture.

(If you think I've exaggerated any part of this, talk to Lizzy.)

A Big Thank You to the Continental Vowel Shift

2009-03-25T15:46:00.000-06:00

If you didn't get this email from me, it means I respect you too much to forward on youtube videos. But, sometimes I get a reply that is so great, I have to post it.

I sent out this this video with the comment: "Why does everything sound better with a British accent?"

We can thank the great Continental Vowel Shift for the beauty of this message (and the honorable Daniel Hannan, of course).

(Wow, that's a big window--still trying to figure out blogger.)

Amy Martinsen, my brilliant English professor friend, replied:

(posted with permission)

The British have such a mastery of the English language. I often wonder what has happened to us--have we just become so casual in all ways that we are no longer taken serious? The true power of communication is the the marriage of content and form--but truly this man could have been reading the phone book and his message would have had power. He was not, though, reading the phone book, but was, in fact, describing our situation as well. Soooo, since I am an undignified American, I will just say that he opened a Big 'Ol Can of Whoop-Ass on the Prime Minister! :)

Lovies,
the other Amy

(If you hadn't noticed, I'm trying here to simultaneously thank the man for his lucid and thoughtful commentary on our predicament even as I avoid the nerve-wracking topic.)

Ciao!

"Lie to Me": My New Favorite

2009-03-25T13:28:00.000-06:00

I hate to promote TV programming in any way, but when my 9 year old tells me, "There's a new 'Lie to Me' today, does that mean you're going to do the laundry?" . . . I know I'm a true fan. . . . I also know, that is one of the most pathetic things a mother has ever heard. Absolutely tragic.

Let me explain. I had dragged myself--kicking and screaming--into my laundry room to dig it out. I took my laptop and started by watching Elder Uchdorf's talk from the last General Relief Society Meeting (*sigh*), but his talk was only 20 minutes, which didn't even see me through clearing the floor. So, I sent David a note, asking if he had any suggestions thrilling enough to keep me in the laundry room. I watched the first 5 (and only) episodes. It was one of my better laundry days.

Here's the premise: crazy expert on micro facial expressions and body language combines his expertise with asking the right questions to figure out who's lying, who's hiding, who's telling the truth. Best part: when they explain the universal meaning behind some expression, they'll back it up with footage of Richard Nixon, Bill Clinton, Blagogivich, Obama, Bush, every-freakin-somebody you've ever heard of. It's a riot! All public figures are fair game.

I wish they still had the pilot online at hulu, but you can see the last 5 epsiodes. Here's the most current: http://www.hulu.com/watch/63291/lie-to-me-the-best-policy

Trust me, it takes some powerful entertainment to keep my in my laundry room.

Enjoy!

Mother of the Year--NOT!

2009-02-12T01:40:00.000-07:00

I will never be a MOY--Mother of the Year. Among MANY reasons, I don't have the voice for it. Not a drop of sweetness in my voice. The best I can do is 'authoritative,' and even that is rare. I once called into a radio program, said my 2 cents, and tried to make a graceful exit before I said something stupid. The host must have been desperate for callers, because he wouldn't let me hang up.

"Wait, wait, can I ask you something?" "Sure." "What's your day job?" "Mother." "Really? Well, in another life, will you consider a career in radio, because your voice . . . it's like loaded with authority." "Really? I guess that comes from trying to get everyone off to school: 'EVERYBODY GET IN THE CAAAAR!'"

But, now I'm really off topic. Here are some other reasons I will never be a MOY. Glancing over my desk, I see a paper that my darling 7 year old left here. It's a math paper, turned upside down. She drew a martini on the back. A martini! Complete with olives on a toothpick and the little umbrella. Did I mention, we're Mormons? We don't drink martinis. (Anyone know the the plural for martini?) This girl lives a seriously sheltered life. We have no TV. She goes to a school that requires a signed permission slip from every parent before you can share a "commercially produced food product" (aka "Valentine's treat"). She wears a uniform. Where did she learn how to draw a martini? But, wait . . . there's more. For 2 weeks she's been reminding and begging me to come to "Immigration" at school today at 1:00 (whatever that may be). Yesterday, I assured her that I would be there. Today, at 1:10, I remembered. After working out a small babysitting crisis (thanks, Jodie!), I got there 30 minutes late. I slithered into a room full of commotion and asked, "Have I missed it all?" "No, no welcome to Ellis Island. Please start at the medical station where a doctor will certify that you're healthy enough to enter." There sat Joanne, overjoyed that her flaky mother made it. She quickly started making grand gestures of checking my ears, eyes, heart, and throat. Thankfully, she declared me healthy. I moved to the registration desk where I answered a few questions and had my name "Americanized" to "Rose Ford." (Not bad for second graders.) Then on to the Ferry, after which I was sent back to "The Pen" because I had declared that I already had a job lined up, and apparently, that was illegal. (Wow, have times changed!) Once I was out of the Pen, I took the ferry to New York (a gathering of desks in the center of the room where other parents were sitting). Here, the teacher announces that we will now share the immigration stories of one of our ancestors. Thanks, Joanne, I guess you forgot to mention that part. I shoot her a look of dismay. She shrugs back, Sorry mom. Looking around at the other parents, I notice that the lady next to me is wearing a full Austrian derndle--her hair is up in braids. Another woman is wearing a hat and shawl. Two other mothers have prepared remarks--typed and with photos. Ah! No MOY awards for me this year. Thankfully, I happened to wear a long black skirt with a frumpy sweater and boots that, all together, create a look that reminds me of Froiline Maria's traveling clothes. The principal begins with his story. Oh good. The principal is here to witness. I quickly decide I'm going to tell Harriet Paynter's story of joining the Church at 13 and getting kicked out of her home, working as a maid for 5 years before she could save enough money to pay for her boat to America. Thinking about Harriet, I start to tear up. Oh, good grief! I absolutely can NOT cry for this thing. But wait, . . . was that Harriet or her mother? Or someone else completely. Incredibly, I have time to worry about my long-deceased grandmother who is going to hear me mess up her story. I am shamed! The lady next to me--the one in the derndle--starts to talk in a perfect German accent. You've GOT to be KIDDING! She's acting it all out in first person? Then I realize, she's actually talking about herself. No pressure, I get to follow a real immigrant! I get up, tell my story, cry a little (the only crier, of course), and sit down. The kids are unphazed. The parents look horrified. Oh, well, it's a good thing I'm almost 40. That would have been excrutiating 10 years ago. Just another reminder, I will never be a MOY.

The Emperor's New OFFICE

2009-02-11T07:33:00.001-07:00

Have you seen The Office? My children and husband love this show. Of course, we have no TV, but they watch it online. It takes a certain amount of initiative, beyond just thumbing through the remote, to watch a TV show online, which makes their interest in The Office even more mysterious. I've tried to watch; really, I have. I can't get past everyone sitting around, doing nothing. It's painful. I guess I'm envious. What would I give to have some office space where I could just go and get my work done. I can't enjoy watching these ungrateful, pathological people. . . that is, . . . until . . . last week. When I saw Episode 13. (Enjoy it here: Season 5, Episode 13, "Stress Relief.") I heard this conversation between David and Jonathan.

Jonathan: "Dad," uncontrollable laughter, "Did you see The Office?" David: "Which one? . . ." Sudden recognition, again uncontrollable laughter from David. David, barely able to speak: "Where Dwight sets the office on fire?" Jonathan, nodding yes, unable to speak.

This was too much. I had to investigate. Now, I think I've seen the beginning of this episode 4 or 5 times. Favorite line: Michael says, "Well, we learn from our mistakes, and now Dwight knows not to cut the face off a real person."

Probabilities of Ski Gloves . . . OR . . . Conversations with MOE (Mothers of Eight)

2009-02-10T13:41:00.000-07:00

My sister Elizabeth, another MOE, just sent out this email:

I have just gone through all of our snow gloves and despite statistical improbability . . . I have 8 left-handed gloves with no mates! Seven of the them are Head brand (from Costco) 1 is a Hotfingers glove. If any of you seem to have a plethora of right-handed gloves, we need to get them back together!! Please let me know!

Maybe a room full of monkeys can produce War and Peace afterall! (Some things just have to be documented for posterity.)

"Age, be not proud, though some have called thee mighty!"

2009-01-26T09:11:00.000-07:00

I turn 40 this year. I'm anticipating it as a death and re-birth, which causes me to look at the metaphyiscal meaning of some of the strangest things. Take this video for example. This lady is more than twice my age! I have another 47 years to get this good at salsa dancing! I will, however, skip the sexy strip down to spaghetti straps! Enjoy!

"Like New Grass in the Spring."

2009-01-20T00:48:00.000-07:00

For Christmas, I gave David a new bedspread. (I know that's as bad as Homer Simpson giving Marge a bowling ball with his name on it, but it was Christmas time when I found it, what could I do?) Here's a picture (minus the groovy, hyper-coordinated room). You wouldn't believe all the conversation that a new bedspread will generate in a house full of girls. "Mom, I LOVE your new bedspread!" (No pretense whatsoever that this is David's bedspread.) "It's so silky. Let's go swimming on the bedspread." "Is this a bedspread or a comforter?" I just wanted to share my personal favorite; Marguerite said it: "Your bedspread is like new grass in the spring. Sigh." Where did this girl come from? In the last few weeks, I've also heard her say (after reading the new Fancy Nancy book): "I'm the only fancy one in my family." And: "If there's no air in outer space, what do we breathe?" And tonight, I heard: "Can Superman breathe in outer space?" I just wanted to document that.

Postum, Anyone?

2009-01-09T11:37:00.000-07:00

Just in case you were wondering how to make Postum from the grain . . . here's a recipe. Thanks a lot, Kraft, for discontinuing it a few years ago. I need it tonight for Lizzy's mother-daughter book club. "Ostumo," in Gail Carson Levine's book Fairest, is described as being a warm drink made from grain and molasses; it shows up all over the book. Smart girl, I am, praising Postum to the skies, telling Lizzy it will be the PERFECT drink to serve to her friends . . . it goes with the book perfectly. . . THEN finding out it can only be bought for $85 a jar on ebay. The recipe below is for the dried grain mixture: once it's made, you have to steep it and run it through a coffee filter--no such thing as homemade INSTANT postum. If you're curious, stop by for a cup. I keep thinking of Grandma Shill--it's made my house smell like hers--that's the fun part. I combined 2 recipes and made it like this: 3 c. wheat germ 1 c. corn meal 2 c. cracked or ground wheat (cream of wheat) 1 c. molasses Mix in your hands until the molasses is evenly distributed; looks and feels like damp saw dust. Spread thin on cookie sheets Bake 300, stirring every 20 min for 5 hours. (Wish me luck on that part.) I'm actually baking 275 with convection, hoping the convection will speed it up. Woah, that was too hot for convection. I turned it down to 250, but it definitely sped it up. It's already dried out. The pans in my regular oven are way behind. ENJOY! Here are the original recipes: http://ouc1.com/another-homemade-postum-recipe/ http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,1630,149185-250198,00.html

Last Year's Christmas Letter

2008-12-21T15:14:00.000-07:00

I came so close to sending out Christmas cards last year . . . soooo close. I even got this fine picture taken--nice theory with a three week old baby, but the picture production must have drained me dry; I couldn't quite get closure on the letter. (And I call myself a writer!)

Here's my draft; you can tell it's a draft because it's all so unbalanced. I got really carried away with the hamsters, and they got more coverage than the children. In defense of my motherhood: I was going to give my bid kids some room to write their own stories, which explains their skimpy paragraphs. I'm posting this just in case I get around to this year's letter.

Merry Christmas and all our love!

Christmas 2007

Hello friends, It looks like every fourth baby or so we finally get a Christmas letter out, so here's a quick five year review--born: Joanne, Marguerite, Eden, and Alice (one month ago). We finally caved to peer pressure from our kids (or is that subordinate pressure?)and decided to have just one more.

If you were counting, that totals seven girls and one lone Jonathan for us. I spent most of the year pregnant, therefore lying around groaning and complaining, which explains why every surface in my home acquired grafitti: Sharpie in all colors on the walls, the woodwork, table tops (all of them), window sills, shower walls, and carpet. Not even Rapunzel Barbie's braid was spared. (See my favorites below.)

We had a wonderful beach trip with most of the Shills this summer. It was all part of my mom's Christmas theme: "the 1960s." We spent a blissful week on the beach in San Diego, enjoying the most perfect weather I've ever seen and unusually warm Pacific waters. It was a landmark adventure for the cousins. My kids even got to experience a true "hoot-n-nanny," I thought Annette Funnacello might materialize in a yellow bikini. DAVID Occasionally, people mention that they have a hard time finding David in the choir, so I feel obligated to mention that he quit 4 years ago (about the time I was expecting Marguerite). There's a reason all those choir members have grey hair--their kids are grown. Between the Olympics and the touring schedule, he decided that it's not really meant for the man with many small children. NANCY spends her free time on Powerschool, checking her grades and squeezing extra credit points out of her teachers. On any day, she can tell you the exact percentage she has in any class; and she takes wild pleasure in tipping over the 100% mark. It's amazing! She bought herself several pairs of impossibly high-heeled shoes and discovered hair dye this year. ("Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!") JONATHAN Jonathan went to BYU lacrosse camp this summer, and we all learned just how much he keeps us entertained. The little girls all moped around complaining the whole time that there was nothing to do. And, I had to agree. SARAH is another PowerSchool addict, checking grades, but she's quieter about it and not so shameless about begging for extra credit. She embraced lacrosse this year. LIZZY (8), my sweet Social Planner is all about relationships." She got baptized this year after several months of threatening to wait for her Linford grandparents get home from their mission (still more than a year away). Relationships mean a lot to Lizzy, and she couldn't bear the thought of crossing this important threshold without them. But, after two months of EVERYONE needling her about her baptism and having to explain to people--like the primary president and bishop--that she had decided to wait, she thought better of the idea and decided that October was a good time. We went to Las Vegas so she could share her special day with her cousin, Adam. As we left the church after the baptism, we got a double rainbow which we count as a real miracle in Vegas with its three inches of rainfall a year. JOANNE (6) Fireball. Very, very feminine looking, but she loves to play with her boy cousins and has learned to do the more shocking things that boys do. (I'll leave it at that.) Joanne is Jonathan's honorary brother. In Jonathan's words: "Joanne is the closest thing to a brother I'll ever have." This girl knows how to play and dance and be especially goofy and, most importantly, laugh at Jonathan's antics. MARGUERITE is our diva. This girl is going somewhere--we're not sure where, but wherever it is, she'll be dressed well! She won't even come down for breakfast before she's showered, dressed, and accessorized--from hair to shoes. Favorite accessories include: headbands, scarves, tiaras, boas, and all of her mother's jewelry. (Much of it bit the dust this year), She's three whole years from the onset of her shoe fetish, (when she used to wear shoes to bed every night and hold another pair in her hands while she slept), with no signs of remission. She remains an avid shoe collector. I offered to take her on a "Mommy Date," and she asked if we could go to the shoe store: "It will be so fun, we can look around at all the shoes and stuff." --no kidding.

She also wins the prize for asking the most incomprehensible questions: I saw her take a tape measure, spread it out along the kitchen counter and ask, "Dad, guess how much the counter weighs. . . . 100 degrees!" (This, with her million dollar smile, of course). Give that girl some Math! EDEN: The Narrator. Eden narrated every event--no matter how small--that occurred in our house this year in full, exacting, descriptive sentences. I'm sure she tripled the average number of words spoken per day by any grown woman. Sometimes, just listening can be exhausting. She talks so much, that as we were preparing for her third birthday (just a couple of weeks ago), David lost his brains for a minute and thought she was turning four. It took a bit of convincing before he conceded: "Do you mean to tell me she's still TWO! She can't be two! No two year old talks that much." She's still cute enough to get her way virtually all of the time, even with Alice threatening to usurp. I'm sure this stage will end. ALICE: Absolutely perfect. It's the one thing on which we are all in complete agreement. She recently added "smiling" to her repertoire of tricks.

Well, that's it for the Linford kids.

ME: I'm busy with all of the above. I spend a lot of time in the car. I still write for ikeepsafe.org and that takes up all my hobby time, so I really don't do much else, which makes writing my paragraph here pretty simple. I had a couple of short business trips this year, so I started a new policy of taking a kid with me whenever I have to travel. This has seriously increased my popularity at home.

In February, I had meetings in San Jose, which were timed perfectly so that I could join my sister, sister-in-law, and niece playing with the Temple Hill Symphony in Oakland. It was so fun to dust off my violin (literally) and play again. It took about two weeks of scales for me to remember how to work my fingers, and still I barely survived the 2nd violin part, but the music was sublime and so nourishing.

I also had a fun trip to DC with Nancy. We stayed with my sister in Arlington and saw some of the DC sites. My love of George Washington still grows.

Hampster tragedies: Hamlet & Horatio

We acquired 2 hamsters, Hamlet and Horatio, born on the 4th of July last year. It turns out, we tempted the fates with those names. Hamlet died this summer at the worst possible moment--DAVID WAS OUT OF TOWN. So I had to conduct the funeral and bury him myself, accompanied by the plaintive wailing of 5 wretched little girls. In my world, burying an animal is a man's job, and I was very bitter about having to do it. I'm a disgrace to my pioneer ancestors.

At the funeral, I tried to offer a few kind words about Hamlet: "He was a good hamster, he never bit us." But, I was corrected by Sarah, "Actually, he bit me once, but it was only after he went insane because we hadn't changed his hay, and water had spilled all over the cage." Everyone had a bite story, modified with a comment like, "But it wasn't very hard." I started wondering about their vaccinations.

Marguerite suggested that we get a rock and write on it, "Hamlet Is Dead," which we did. If you come visit us, be sure to stop by the pet cemetery in the back corner of our yard, and you can admire the memorial (black sharpie on granite). This was one of the few occasions in my life where I knew exactly what to say: "Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." (Thank you, Shakespeare.) But, the girls were unimpressed; they blasted me with a mishna full of questions about the afterlife for hamsters and whether or not they get resurrected, who takes care of them in the meantime, are they with Grandma Nonie, etc.

Hamster Epilogue: Lady MacBeth

Nancy and Sarah decided to buy another hamster--a girl this time--with high hopes for offspring. They named her Hero after that buoyant character in Much Ado about Nothing, but , we had to change her name to Lady MacBeth when she turned into a vicious biter. We all fear Lady MacBeth. Her unfortunate name turned out to be even more appropriate when Joanne woke up one morning to find that Lady MacBeth had eaten--yes, eaten!--Horatio. Oh the humanity! There were only remnants of him left.

Since then, only Lizzy--ever tenderhearted--has the wherewithal play with her. Several times, I heard Sarah mutter, "murderer" under her breath as she walked by the hamster tub.

On that happy note, I'll leave you with a Merry Christmas. It's been quite a year!

Responsible Women: Going on 24!

2008-12-08T00:23:00.001-07:00

In March, the Responsible Women book club will celebrate it's 24th anniversary. (And we look so young!) I became one of the "new" members when I joined in 1995. We were ALL together for our December gathering, so we snapped a photo. I treasure these friendships so much. We're all so very different--we often disagree--but I value every opinion. Thank you, friends, for showing me how to be responsible!

Beyond Outcomes

2008-11-04T10:11:00.000-07:00

I voted early this morning. It was just starting to storm outside. The voting room was warm. There was no line. I got my electronic voting card, and went straight to the booth. This election was like every other election in just one way: I was teary as I picked up my voting card and walked to the booth. Every year, I have to blink back tears before I get to the table where the nice lady puts the "I Voted" sticker on me. I can not look at a voting booth without thinking of the hundreds of millions of people who have lived and were never allowed any voice in the rule over them. I am part of a very small, very blessed percentage. It's still early, and I have no idea how the election will turn out, but it's unlikely that the majority will vote with me. Still, an election has meaning beyond its outcomes. Elections are an opportunity to clean up my thinking, to declare my allegiances, to put lamb's blood on my doorpost even if it looks unenlightened to a trendy majority. As long as I have the freedom to do that, I'm the luckiest girl alive! Love you all. Thanks for voting! Sally

Something Useful to Circulate on the Internet: Beware the Hair Tourniquet!

2008-11-02T21:58:00.000-07:00

Nevermind that my purse is likely covered in social diseases, that my children could be skinned alive by Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser, or that there may be tarantulas in my bananas . . . Circulate this!

Beware the HAIR TOURNIQUET!

This medical condition occurs when a baby gets a single hair wrapped around her toe (or finger), and the toe swells up and turns a color that freaks out all mothers. Two weeks ago, this happened to my neighbor, Baby Jane.

When her parents couldn't get the hair off, they ran her up to the Insta-care. (It was Saturday.) After looking at the toe, the Dr. announced that he would need to cut the toe to get the hair out. That sounded drastic, so they decided to take Baby Jane up to Primary Children's Medical Center.

(If you've ever had a kid who needed serious, frightening, major surgery, you know that this is the medical version of Disneyland.)

Instead of the scalpel, the doctors at Primary's whipped out . . . are you ready for this? . . . a bottle of Nair® --seriously, NAIR! As in, "Who wears short shorts? . . . Nair for short shorts!" Remember that commercial from the 80s? Tammi calls this her $500 bottle of Nair. Treatment requirements: 5 minutes for hair to dissolve, 2 hours for the pediatric orthopedic surgeon to come verify that the hair is, in fact, dissolved. I thought this was important enough that I decided to post my first legitimate addition to a Wikipedia article. (I don't count the time I added to the Alfred Lord Tennyson Page: "And yet, Jonathan and David, still did not know who he was." It took a whole week for that to get deleted.) So, there you go. . . something new for the diaper bag. Get the word out!

[NOTE To the Snopes investigator who will certainly verify my story: My name is Sally Linford, and this really did happen to my real neighbor. She has 3 delightful children who play with my kids. I saw the toe myself.]

My, My That's One Heavenly Pie . . . (to be sung to the tune of Don McLean's song.)

2008-10-27T00:03:00.001-06:00

Looking back, I see I've been advertising Susan Bauer's book for quite a while now. I was thrown into a depression by . . . [edited out due to lack of relevance anymore!] But, something snapped me out of my melancholy. It was a pie. I don't do a lot of recipe pushing, but this one deserves some attention. I ran into it in Family Fun and thought it would be nice to serve to the Quickwater Mothers at our informal reunion yesterday. Of course, I ran out of time, and my girls jumped in to save me, yet again, by making the expirimental recipe. (Delightful girls, I have.) The result was something to blog about! Three short letters (p-i-e) don't do justice to this food from the gods. I regret that I have no way to attach a taste here, but I can tell you, it's a subtle pie. And romantic. And just when you think you understand it, it surprises you with a bit of lemon zest! Enjoy! Maple Heaven Pear Pie (http://jas.familyfun.go.com/recipefinder/display?id=50601)


	Filling
	6 cups peeled 1/2-inch diced just-ripe pears (about 8 small pears)
	1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch
	Pinch of salt
	1/4 cup sugar
	1/4 cup maple syrup
	1 tablespoon lemon juice
	1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
	2 tablespoons chopped candied ginger or 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
	9- or 9 1/2-inch deep-dish pie crust or try this Flaky Piecrust
	Oatmeal Crumb Topping
	2/3 cup flour
	1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
	1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
	1/4 teaspoon salt
	L cup cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/4-inch pieces

1. Heat the oven to 400°. Place the diced pears in a large bowl, sprinkle the cornstarch over them, and stir well. Add the remaining filling ingredients and toss gently, until the mixture is evenly combined. 2. Turn the filling into the chilled deep-dish pie crust and smooth the top of the fruit. Place the pie on the center oven rack, with a piece of aluminum foil under the dish to catch any drips, and bake for 45 minutes. 3. Now make the topping. Combine the flour, oats, brown sugar, and salt in a large mixing bowl. Add the butter, and using your hands, rub the ingredients together until you have large crumbs. Refrigerate the topping until you are ready to use it. 4. After 45 minutes, lower the oven temperature to 375°. Remove the pie from the oven and carefully pour the crumbs in the center of the pie, then spread them evenly. Return the pie to the oven and bake it until the juices bubble thickly around the edge, about 15 minutes. Transfer the pie to a rack to cool for at least 2 hours before serving. Serves 10 to 12.

Susan Bauer's New Book

2008-10-12T23:52:00.000-06:00

The Complete Writer: Writing With Ease: Strong Fundamentals by Susan Wise Bauer rating: 5 of 5 stars I left this review on Amazon: Susan Bauer's opening essay on the writing process and how to teach it is the most cogent, informed explanation I've ever read: "Writing is a process that involves two distinct mental steps. First, the writer puts an idea into words; then, she puts the words down on paper. INARTICULATE IDEA ---> IDEA IN WORDS IDEA IN WORDS ---> WORDS ON PAPER . . . The pianist practices first the right hand, and then the left hand, before putting the two together; the young writer practices putting ideas into words, and then putting words down on paper, before trying to do both simultaneously. . . What follows will equip you to train the young student in the language of writing." And Bauer delivers on this promise perfectly; she shows even the most unprepared parent or teacher how to teach good writing in just a few minutes a day. Her program will be a great relief to students who feel overwhelmed by writing assignments. It's all so manageable: she even tells you exactly what to do if you're starting with a "reluctant older student(grade 6-12)." To make her case, her own writing is so easy and delightful that it's relaxing to read. I'm ordering the workbooks. Thank you, Ms Bauer. _____ My off-the-record comment: Susan Bauer ROCKS! I want to BE her. (I guess I should say, "I want to be SHE," but that sounds goofy. So, if Shakespeare can get away with "Woe is me," I'm sticking with I WANT TO BE HER!) View all my reviews.

Coolest Wedding Photos Ever

2008-10-12T02:00:00.000-06:00

I just watched a wedding slide show that had the most stunning and edgy picts I've ever seen . . . and I even saw JFK Jr's wedding photos in People magazine! These are better. It was my niece's wedding (the first for my family--another story altogether). If you're interested in photo wedding art (or Amy & Shaun), here's how to view: Click the following link to view the collection: http://www.photodex.com/sharing/viewalbum.html?alb=145547 When prompted, enter the password: amyandshaun It was a bit of a pain to get it to run: you have to download a plugin that doesn't want to be downloaded, then click on "Loop All" when you see the big pict of Amy & Shaun. Personal favorites: the one you're looking at, the hot salmon wall--wow--and the bride and groom sitting at the soda bar in the Blue Bird! No "McPictures" in the lot. Excellent work, Charles! www.charleswestphotography.com ____________

Reading List for Boys

2008-10-10T16:42:00.000-06:00

Thank you, everyone who replied to my request for literature for boys. I'll let you know if I find Capt. Moroni in these pages. Here are your recommendations:

Books I Have to Read Before I Go on a Date (for boys)

* Les Miserables (Hugo)--for obvious reasons! (Nevermind the part where Jean Val Jean stabs himself in the arm with a burning poker just to illustrate his manhood.) * War and Peace (Tolstoy)--This replaces Anna K from the girls' list. I've never read it, but Jonathan acts like carrying a book named "Anna" through the halls of junior high would make him a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti. I trust that Tolstoy wove his magic into this one also. * Horatio Hornblower--for valor and honor, brave deeds, and what-not. * The Virginian--never read it. I'll keep you posted. * Great Expectations (Dickens)--illustrating what not to do. * Twilight-- (an unlikely bedfellow here, but included to promote the waning qualities of gentlemanliness:

Manners DO matter.
Don't look at other girls when you're on a date.
Don't devour her even if you really want to.
If at all possible, be wealthy, good-looking, and strong. (Not required, just helpful.)

The girls have LOUDLY pointed out that Twilight is utterly unfair, because he's already read it. We might have to pare down the list, but this is an excellent start! Thank you!

Weekly Random Photo

2008-10-07T22:45:00.000-06:00

This is my sister Marsali at the White House Christmas Ball (yes, it's a ball). That sculpture you see behind her is the White House in white chocolate--not your average Christmas party!

Reading List for Girls: Lessons in Mate Selection

2008-10-07T09:09:00.000-06:00

Six girls and a roll of aluminum foil: the Linford girls(minus Alice) manifest the royal within. I have a question: After becoming a parent of a daughter, how long did it take for you to start worrying about her choice in a mate? What man would ever be good enough? Is she really going to choose her husband herself! All that. I think I might have had a peaceful 30 minutes after Nancy was born before that thought occurred to me, and it's been a downward spiral ever since. When Joanne was born, and I was up to four daughters (8, 6, 2, 0), I decided to take action. What else could I do? I gave my girls a reading list--let them experience the perils of mate selection (good and bad) through literature. Here's the list:

Books I Must Read Before I Can Go on a Date

Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte), so they can live through Jane's moral strength to run away from what she knew was wrong even when all her happiness (as she supposed) was there. (And, it's the greatest book of all time!)
Tenant of Wildfell Hall (Anne Bronte), so they can see how a woman will rationalize away the flaws of a man she loves and how that will poison her future.
Any 2 Jane Austens (preferably P&P and S&S): in the words of Marguerite (when she was 4), . . . "Mom, guess what, Mister Wickham LOOKED like he was a good guy, but ACTUALLY, he was a bad guy. And, Mister Darcey LOOKED like he was a bad guy, but ACTUALLY, he was a good guy." Mission accomplished! (This was one of proudest moments of my life!)
Anna Karenina (Tolstoy): There are so many reasons to read this book, but most importantly, so they can see how someone, by degrees, can lie herself into doing anything she thinks she wants (the foil to Jane Eyre), and the excuses don't matter.

Anyway, 5 books is all. We've been talking about this list for all these years, and the girls didn't think much of it until last summer when Nancy realized that she was down to 9 months and had roughly 3000 pages to read. She's been in heavy negotiations trying to plead down the Anna K requirement. (At some point, she got this negotiation twisted into her begging to get her ears pierced--oh, the cogitations of the adolescent female brain!--and she claimed that if I let her pierce her ears, she would read ALL the Jane Austens AND write a paper on Anna K. I'm still considering that.) Help! But, now my problem is I need to give Jonathan a list. And, the girls' list just doesn't cover it for Jonathan. So, I'm asking for help here: please give me suggestions for books that show real men--men of valor and integrity, how they do hard things, how they treat women, how they value life. Please no whiny metro-men. I need Captain Moroni in a novel or biography. If anything comes to mind, send me the title. Somehow, I've neglected this genre. Thanks!

Problems with Grounding: Can she do a short post?

2008-10-06T22:55:00.000-06:00

Yes, she can! Here's why I should never ground my kids: Jonathan: "Mom, can I use your computer?" (Nevermind the grammer. Wait, I'm having a wisp of memory. I think I grounded him from the computer. Why? Can't remember.) Me: "Did I ground you from the computer?" Jonathan: "Yes." Me: "Why?" Jonathan: "Because I was playing games yesterday when you said no games." Me: "No, you can't use my computer." I'm not sure I'm cut out for this profession.

Pounds and Pounds of Empathy . . . or . . . My First Massage

2008-10-05T01:39:00.001-06:00

My younger cousin Emily gave me a writing assignment. She can do this, and I cannot say no, because she's a brilliant creative writing professor at BYU. I hesitate to share her blog with you because you'll never come back here, but in fairness to you: http://emiliadelmar.blogspot.com.

My assignment (I put it in purple because that's the kind of girl Emily is):

Do something you have never done before and write about the experience. The activity must be something on the domestic level (no sky-diving or other "huge" things...just something small). Examples: using a loofa, riding the bus, visiting a homeless shelter, something out of your ordinary schedule or something you've always been nervous to try doing.

My "domestic activity" was receiving a massage. So, here are my thoughts from the Shower Wall about this new experience.

_______________________

I got a massage today, my first. I'm thirty-eight years old. After three years of carrying around a gift certificate in my wallet—seriously three years—I finally got up the nerve make the appointment. Truthfully, my husband had to make the appointment for me after I declared my intent to go. How many hours have passed since I showered this morning? Do I smell? I wonder as I fill the bath tub. Why have I delayed this pleasure? Just how probing is a real massage? I wish I were skinny. "Sally, you need to leave," my husband calls to me. At the last possible minute, I shuffle through papers looking for that gift certificate. Have I really procrastinated something that the entire free world considers a luxury? What could be so threatening?

Nothing, I decide. I haven't been procrastinating; I've just been very busy. How many women with eight children sit for a massage, really? Yes, this is perfectly natural. I clear my throat. I'm going to get the massage therapist to work out that burning spot in my back. I should have done this months ago. I'm supposed to be 10 minutes early, but getting out of the house is more difficult than I'd anticipated. Maybe I should go to the bathroom again. I finally leave. I won't be there early. As I drive, I ponder the trade-offs of having a man or a woman masseuse. I'll be more comfortable with a woman, but a man will have stronger hands, and I really need this knot worked out. It's killing me. I walk into the clinic and get in line behind a Gen Y businessman who's buying a membership. (I didn't know memberships were a possibility for massage therapy.) In front of me is a shapely, middle-aged woman who has the confidence of someone who's been here before. My eyes probe the walls for reading material. Behind the counter, the door opens, and a young blond man wearing an apron walks through. My heart leaps into my throat: He looks about fifteen though I know this is impossible. I realize why I've been this putting off. Oh, Master of the Universe, please don't make me undress in front of that child.

He's far too young to have accumulated any empathy. I imagine him telling jokes about my body to the other therapists after I leave. Stop it! I correct myself. He's a professional. But, in a split second, I admit the truth. No, this boy-child will not do my massage.

Then sudden clarity: No man will give me a massage. Forget the fireball in my back and stronger hands. I regret becoming a sexist, but I must have a woman.

I find myself wishing that English had a word, like comedienne or stewardess, for distinguishing between a man and a woman masseuse. How pathetic for me to have to announce, "I prefer a woman therapist." So much more dignified to say, "Schedule me with your masseusess." Even if there were such a word, the feminists would have stamped it out by now. Damn the feminists. [Footnote: see Diane's enlightening comment about this.] The woman in front of me speaks up. "I'm here for Kurt" she says. "Hello," the child-masseuse replies, and I'm spared the shame of having to refuse him. I smile briefly then steel myself for my impending request that will announce to the world (the empty lobby) that I am a sexist with body hangups, likely abused as a child, therefore unable to get a massage from a man.

Don't be ridiculous, I chide. Who cares? I assure myself that there is no shame in requesting a woman. After all, I'm the client here. With new resolve, I prepare my words and anticipate my masseuesess . . . I wait . . . I fill out the form where I indicate that I want a "deep" massage, not "mild" or "therapeutic" (not sure what those mean), and I wait again. . . . then, a new fear. Please let her be large, I pray silently. Before I even have to ask, the door opens again, and a woman comes out. She looks me in the eye, and I can see that she's comfortable in her profession and kind, old enough to have experience, but young enough to still have strong hands. (Maybe that spot will get worked out after all.)

But, more importantly, she's large. Not just large but hugely obese, and obese in a strange way, so that her top looks almost normal, but her hips and thighs spread out in rippled scallops. Pounds and pounds of empathy. I pause briefly to acknowledge the blessing. My body will present no surprises. Relief. We walk down a professional-looking hall and into a darkened room. I hear soothing oriental music. I explain that I've just had a baby, so I'm hunched over, nursing all the time and sleeping like a pretzel with my baby next to me. I tell her about the fireball. "Undress to your comfort level, and lie face-down under the blankets. I'll knock before I come in," she says. Wow. I admire her script. (Has the whole world had sensitivity training?) I undress and climb—without shame—under the sheets. She begins by standing at my head and pushing down my back, horizontally, like I'm a truck stuck in a snow bank. "We're going to communicate here. You tell me if it's too hard." Her hands slide down my back until she comes to a marble that sits under my skin next to my spine—exactly where the burning is. Her fingers probe for other lumps, then return to the marble. She pushes down with her thumb, slowly, applying constant pressure. Harder. Hm. That feels a little uncomfortable. This lump becomes her enemy. She rolls over it with her thumb, increasing the pressure, pushing it into my rib cage. Just before I scream, . . . she lets up. She uses the back side of her forearm to roll over my back, stopping again on the marble, She rolls again over and back, over and back, always edging towards excruciating. Can human hands rip the cartilage off my ribs? Now I will scream. But, again, she releases the pressure and transitions into light brushing movements—Ah, yes, the familiar feel of generic back rub. As she finishes working on my back, I realize that this pleasure, like all good things, is going to end. I begin some long term planning. I should do this again, maybe twice a year, just to protect my back. I can see I'm developing back problems. When she gets to my neck, I become earnest. This is really something. It must be healthful, even medicinal. Maybe this is like vitamins—not urgent, but important. I should come in at least quarterly. What was David saying today? "Back to a hard budget. Cut 7 years off our mortgage with a fifteen-year loan." "Yes," I had agreed. "That will feel good."

As good as this? I wonder. What did I hear about membership?

Yes, I'll be back.

I want to love opera . . . Really, I do.

2008-09-30T01:34:00.001-06:00

I want to love opera. . . really, I do.

I love the soaring arias, the rich baritone voices, the grand choruses blasting me with the glory of the music. I marvel at the accumulation of so much excellence and effort represented in every production—many lifetimes of practice and rehearsal on stage.

Beyond the music, I love the extravagant sets, the dazzling costumes! So many sensory pleasures crammed into a single event.

Are you convinced? I really want to love opera. And, I do . . . except for one tiny detail—the plots. Or, I should say, "the lack of plots." Opera plots stink. They are the dead fish of storytelling.

Honestly, with the amount of effort and money that went into the grand operas, couldn't anyone have thrown a few bones at a decent writer to put some story into it? Why not? Why pretend we're telling a story (sets, costumes, the fog machines for the love of Pete!), when we have to trudge through the misery of the opera plot?

True opera-lovers will call me a Philistine. What educated person needs a pedestrian plot—how obtuse! But, please look with fresh eyes at one of the greatest—the very best that the opera world produced: Verdi's Aida. (Sorry, Wagner will not even get an honorable mention here—nothing for the man who sweats syrup.)

I just saw a delightful production last week done by Utah Festival Opera. The performance was impeccable: brilliant soloists, huge choruses, exquisite sets—three intermissions! But, the excellent production couldn't overcome the genetic problem—the birth defect—no plot! Nothing happens on stage. The opera goes (roughly) like this:

Collection of people on stage singing: La, Laaa. Something happened before the curtain came up, there was a battle, we are patriotic. Egypt is great. Aida fell in love. Things happened, but you missed it, because it all happened before this opera began. Laaaaaaaa!
Re-arrange the same collection of people: Aaah, aaaah. I love Radames, but I long for my homeland. I'll never be happy.
Turn set upside down for different look. Add another group of people—still everyone standing around doing nothing: Look at the Ethopian slaves. Aida's father is one of them. We're very sad. We long for our homeland.
Re-arrange again: There was another battle. You missed it because it happened during intermission, but Radamses won again. BIG, AMAZING CHORUS—sounds like the end. . . (psych!)
Out of love for Aida, Radamses accidentally reveals plans for the next battle. (Okay, I concede something did happen here.) He's condemned (offstage again) to die for his treason by being buried alive in a tomb. Oooohh, Oh!
Aida sneaks into the tomb so they can die there together. Biggest opera of all time ends with the dying stars singing a diminishing duet. (No way is this the end!)

I left out all the meandering with the extraneous love interest that comes to nothing. (Gotta have something for the mezzo.)

You call that a story? I'm telling you, the opera emperor is naked, and we continue to shell out $50 a ticket (I sit in the cheap seats) for NO PLOT!

An Idea

I would like to propose a solution to the stinking opera plot. (If I ever come into great sums of money, I will oversee this myself.) We need to rehabilitate the grand operas. Pay some seriously good writers to take the brilliant music of the masters and give us a good story already! So when it's over, we're truly satisfied; we've had a catharsis. Our bearings are reset, and we're ready to step back into life, invigorated, ready to live and love. Is that too much to ask? With the glorious music, it should be a cinch.

Take, for example, La Boheme, the most pathetic of them all, where the brilliant-music-to-crappy-plot ratio soars the highest, and the characters are so pathetic, you can't care about them at all. (Please . . . stay with me here . . . )

I know this would work.

Give Tosca to Frank McCourt, Turandot to Jeannette Walls, and to lighten it up, we could beg JK Rowling to re-do Faustus. And, just to be sure we've covered the whole spectrum, let Dave Barry re-write Gianni Schicchi—oh the humanity!

The writer in me screams for justice, but like any addict, I'll continue to feed on a drug I can't afford because I can't stay away from the music—I love it too much!

Thoughts from the Shower Wall

Putting the Wicked Witch of the West to Shame

"China doesn't really match our family."

Using Technology to Humanize the Classroom

"The job of the B is to make the C sad" OR . . . How does music do that! OR . . .How dramatic eyebrows can improve your performance.

About that Orva . . .

my bad

Resenting the Hero

A Cup of "Perfect Peach" Tea

"Mom, is Dad a nerd?"

Cooking with My Grandmothers

Happy New Year!

Who gets sick in the summer? OR . . . happy birthday, Sarah. . .

How the stoner in Mr. Dant's class shamed the Mormons

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 7 (July 3)

VIRGINIA DECLARATION OF RIGHTS—May 15, 1776: “All men are by nature equally free and independent.”

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 8 (July 4)

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 6

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 5

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 4

THE DECLARATION OF RIGHTS—OCTOBER 19, 17651, the Stamp Act Congress: “It is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people, and the undoubted rights of Englishmen, that no taxes should be imposed on them, but with their own consent, given personally, or by their representatives.”

DECLARATION OF RIGHTS

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 3

Albany Plan of Union

Documents of Freedom: Day 2—“The freemen have assented.”

Documents of Freedom Week: Day 1

The Stinking Dead Fish of Storytelling

Theological Landmines . . . or . . . Questions I Hadn't Anticipated

"I have chemo tomorrow. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help you."

My Girls' Lax

Something for Earth Day: My Rainforest

My Best Lesson Yet!

Bondage, Passover, and Exodus

Bondage, Passover, and Exodus

Shill Sisters Conference

When Little Girls Play "Guns"

In Defense of Snails and Flies

Linguistic Gymnastics: Thoughts of an 8 Year Old

The Last Night of Summer

Tooth Fairy Followup

Letter to the Tooth Fairy

Desert Poetry

Happy Anniversary, David, . . . [OR] "I cannot heave my heart into my mouth."

More Strange Conversations with Little Girls

Strange Conversations with Little Girls

Jane Austen Night

8 Hours at a Salon, and I Only Look Slightly Worse . . . phew! . . . Disaster Averted.

A Big Thank You to the Continental Vowel Shift

"Lie to Me": My New Favorite

Mother of the Year--NOT!

The Emperor's New OFFICE

Probabilities of Ski Gloves . . . OR . . . Conversations with MOE (Mothers of Eight)

"Age, be not proud, though some have called thee mighty!"

"Like New Grass in the Spring."

Postum, Anyone?

Last Year's Christmas Letter

Responsible Women: Going on 24!

Beyond Outcomes

Something Useful to Circulate on the Internet: Beware the Hair Tourniquet!

My, My That's One Heavenly Pie . . . (to be sung to the tune of Don McLean's song.)

Susan Bauer's New Book

Coolest Wedding Photos Ever

Reading List for Boys

Weekly Random Photo

Reading List for Girls: Lessons in Mate Selection

Problems with Grounding: Can she do a short post?

Pounds and Pounds of Empathy . . . or . . . My First Massage

I want to love opera . . . Really, I do.

VIRGINIA DECLARATION OF RIGHTS—May 15, 1776:
“All men are by nature equally free and independent.”

THE DECLARATION OF RIGHTS—OCTOBER 19, 1765¹, the Stamp Act Congress: “It is inseparably essential to the freedom of a people, and the undoubted rights of Englishmen, that no taxes should be imposed on them, but with their own consent, given personally, or by their representatives.”