This is why we remove the stain glass from closed parishes, as Father V. explained here.
[FYI: I actually like modern architecture. Much of it, anyhow. Although this happened to us this morning – Superhusband and I sitting in adjacent rooms, e-mailing each other. Smart man. It’s not that I’m not a morning person. It’s that I want the morning all to myself, and nobody else making noise in it.]
Wednesday afternoon I think I accidentally used regular instead of decaf. Someone maybe should consider “reading the label” as a useful habit, hmmn. So about midnight I got out of bed, roamed around a little, and landed on what I was sure would be the perfect cure:
It didn’t work. I read the WHOLE THING. And learned how to diagram, I might add. Nicely done book, highly recommended.
Then I skimmed the New Missal Latin book, also pulled from our box of Kolbe-ware, and then I was able to go to sleep. Sneaky coffee, causing me to be educated.
But here’s the worst part. So the next afternoon, I was writing up my little entry for the campground blog, and you’ll never believe what happened me: I felt compelled to put both a subject and a verb into every sentence.
You can see it has worn off now. But wow, for a while it was close. Careful what you read. It could mess with your grammar.
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Funny grammar story: Once I refused to sign a petition, because it did not contain complete sentences. I couldn’t figure out what it was we were demanding. I inquired, but my fellow activist was strangely silent. I think he decided he didn’t need a rabble-rouser on his team after all.
Links Round-Up today:
John McNichol has up part 1 and part 2 of the Argument from Design for explaining God’s existence. The man breathes apologetics for teens. It’s as if he does this for a living or something.
Mrs. Darwin has a cautionary tale about writing. If it seems like people wrote better books in the past, it’s because you haven’t been made to read them all. I buy vintage books from thrift stores — I know. She tells the truth. (That said: I have found some absolute treasures in catholic non-fiction that are now out of print. Kills me.)
–> Mrs. D goes on to share Betty Duffy’s happy news, which is why Mrs. Duffy’s writing career is apparently again on hold for procreation. (Congratulations!). I’m so there. (Not pregnant, just educating people.) Ever used the expression, “Don’t you have anything better to do?” to criticize somebody? When I think about my vocation, that’s what I ask myself. Is there something better I could be doing? Well, I could put the kids in the school, any little ones in day care, and pursue a number of other more profitable and prestigious careers. They’d be fun. They’d be worthwhile. They would be good work. But none of them would be better. I’m doing the best one. The riskiest one, too. But worth it.
Dorian reviews a nice Catholic music curriulum. My two oldest did Kindermusik one year, and it was great — huge help — and so I’m with Dorian. These things are good. But here’s what, and follows my plea: I listened to the sample tracks. They are quite musical. But my fifth graders would fall apart laughing if I played one of those in class. Yes they would.
Dear Music Publishers,
Please, please, oh please record a plain, boring, musically non-descript sing-along CD for use in catholic religious ed. Miniscule ranges. Transparent accompaniments. NO CHORAL VOICES. Sung by some lady (or guy) who sounds like a fifth grade teacher, not a Famous Musician.
Thank you.
Jennifer.
And if you haven’t bust out laughing like a 10 year old after listening the music samples (perhaps you are not a 10 year old?), read this review of the IC’s Communion of Saints book by Allen’s Brain. It is funny. The Communion of Saints series is even funnier. Highly recommended.
I’m outta here. Happy Thursday.
Here’s the situation:
So what I want: Inexpensive biodegradable netting I can put over a layer of leaves to keep them in place, right there in the flower bed on the front lawn, until they compost all on their own.
And it needs to be a color that blends with the leaves so it doesn’t make my yard look really super ridiculous. My yard looks ridiculous enough as is.
Go to it, inventors.
Thank you.
Father V. directs us to this article on “Why Vocations Programs Don’t Work”. Naturally I think the article is pure genius, since it says thing such as:
If youth ministers and, more specifically, priests take the time to teach their young people how to pray alone, in community, liturgically, before the Blessed Sacrament, with an icon or crucifix, in nature, with Scripture, or with a journal, disciples will emerge. Don’t be fooled; young people desire to learn to pray and to pray well, and they want their leaders to teach them.
Yes. My kids beg to pray. Even in my very rough start as a first-year teacher with no training, the day we set a dozen fifth graders loose in the church with brochures on How to Pray The Stations of the Cross, they were all over it. No groovy music, no splash, no drama. Just a quiet empty church and a prayer card, and the chance to move from station to station and pray. It was good. Stunningly good.
Moreover, it’s all too common that those working with youth soft-step around difficult or controversial Church teachings in an attempt not to drive young people away. Gone are the days of young people defining themselves as liberal or conservative Catholics. The stakes are much higher today: either you believe in God or you don’t. As the Southern novelist Walker Percy said upon his Catholic conversion, these days it is either “Rome or Hollywood,” there is no more middle ground. As such, young people want to be challenged. They want to think and understand and wrestle with big ideas. So why not spend time teaching them about the Trinity, the Incarnation, the Paschal Mystery, the Liturgy, and the Last Things? It is no secret that the Church’s teachings on sexuality are counter-cultural, but this is precisely the draw for so many young people—that the human person is more than simply an object of pleasure, and that there is something beautiful about God’s creating us male and female, in his image and likeness, and that there is a divine plan for the way we express ourselves.
To which I say: Preach it, Father.
And yes, all these things need not wait until the kids are 17 and “mature”. I teach a 100% G-rated class. Boys and girls know they are boys and girls. They know that babies come from mothers and fathers. They know that families are good, and they desperately want to grow up to be like their parents, to live in a home where they are loved by both parents . . . they understand good whether they themselves get to experience it or not. We who are afraid of controversy, are just afraid of telling the kids what they already know deep down.
And in any case, how exactly does free pizza and a trip to the amusement park prepare a young man for seminary?
–> Would you really promote, say, engineering majors, by hosting a high school engineering club that shied away from any of that frightful math and science stuff? Don’t teach the kids to solve equations! If they truly feel called, they’ll embark on their own quest to discover the value of the unknown! We don’t want anyone intimated by rigid adherence to the number line!
I’ll stop there. I have this vocation I need to tend to. But one of the combox requests at Fr. Ference’s article asks for more detailed “how-to’s”. At the risk of over-promoting a mighty good blog, I send you to this enjoyable and insightful article on teaching about the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes. Which includes a lovely vocations twist I for one had never noticed.
CAITU: Coolest Author In The Universe.
[Be French. Speak in Acronyms. It’s good for your brain.]
I’ve lately determined that the CAITU is John McNichols. Who totally took care of my beleaguered boy after my complaining post the other week. And that’s not the first time he’s proven his credentials, though I will not embarrass him with too many tales of his kindness to internet strangers.
(And FYI, no I’m not an old friend of his brother-in-law’s cousin’s law school roommate’s favorite veterinarian. I have no stock in Sophia Press. I get no commission on the sales of Tripods Attack, which you should read, because it is fun and because it is what we need more of — enjoyable catholic fiction.)
So that’s how you become the CAITU. AND you write a steampunk alternative history alien-attack G.K. Chesterton catholic thriller, AND you take care of the fans with Strom Thurmondesqe responsiveness.
Nominations for SCAITU are still open. I think maybe the alien thing isn’t strictly required. But it helps.
*****
Other Castle News:
Thinking of going with Kolbe next year. For the two big kids. Am open to opinions if anyone wants to share. (Have already mined the brains of a couple trusted internet friends who are long time happy Kolbe families.) The reason is this: My kids really like checklists. Love ’em. Mr. Boy just wants to get his assignments, get them done, and be free. Aria likes forms so much she begged the SuperHusband to buy her a blank receipt book she saw at the hardware store. (I consoled her by printing off a handful of 1040-EZ’s to play with. She’s thrilled.)
We were planning to switch to a more formal curriculum with one of the major catholic curriculum providers come high school. Mr. Boy will be hitting middle school, so time to make the transition and learn the expectations, so he isn’t blown out of the water in 9th grade. Kolbe has a decent no-nonsense high school curriculum* of the kind that has gotten students into college for the past three generations or so. AND, they issue checklists. Which would free me up from writing my own.
So that’s what we’re thinking about.
Despite being a little out of rhythm this week, due to relatives visiting over the weekend, school is going pretty well this month. Which is noteworthy any time you combine “homeschooling” with “january”. What we’ve been doing is after breakfast and a morning clean-up, kids work independently on checklist items. (For the two littles, that’s just a box of activities they can choose from at will.) Then I call each kid in for an individual class, youngest to oldest. Then group class for penmanship, french and science. Then big kids get work assignments for the afternoon, and littles are free. When we stick to this, it runs pretty smoothly, and everyone is happy.
January is Science Fair Month. We took a break from Zoo Pass Science Class to work through A Drop of Water, and this week kids are now pausing that to conduct science experiments. Mr. Boy wants to know if acorns pop like popcorn. Aria asks whether hard boiled eggs truly are easier to peel if you plunge them into ice water after cooking. And the Bun is attempting to freeze bubbles. Results to be revealed to the admiring real-life public on the 29th.
Deskavation Sucessful. Found it. Wood! Then lost it again. And I’ll have you know my miraculously-given organizational system is still working, even with intermittent clutter-flooding. But here’s what, and sit down before you read this: The girls room is clean. Consistently clean. Three girls ages 4, 6 & 8, in a 12×12 room that is also used for storage. As the SuperHusband said before we tackled the place, we have 1950’s living space, 1990’s lifestyle. (And I would add: 1930’s personality.)
We cleared out the excess junk, designated and labled places for everything, including certain spots labeled “empty” so no one tries to pile stuff there. Then we developed a successful inspection method. We go through the room, and check each drawer and shelf, and toss anything that doesn’t belong there into the middle of the floor. I look on the label to remember. It is so much easier to ask “Are all the things in this space the ones on the label?” than it is to try to negotiate a generic sort of fuzzy standard of cleanliness.
The foot is great. Not exactly normal, but highly highly functional. In the category of attending pro-life marches, visiting museums, grocery shopping, cleaning out the house, all that stuff. It’ll do.
That’s the highlights of castle news. Upcoming on the blog:
And should I start a deskavation series? Because here’s the thing: Most organizational tips are written by people who are already organized. So they say ridiculous things like “throw out your catalogs as soon as they arrive”, or “write all event dates in your calendar the moment you learn of them, then throw the original away”. Ha! You make it sound so easy.
But I’m thinking that just like there people who can’t magically keep their bank accounts balanced just by “spending less”, but need little tricks like cash envelopes to make it work, there are people like me who need painfully obvious baby-step methods to keep the house running smoothly. And we’re discovering some of these things. So I thought maybe that might be helpful. Or else entertaining, in a voyeuristic reality-show kind of way.
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*Yes, I know that this whole “classical” education label thing is about as accurate a historical replica as a Red Ryder wagon is to a horse and carriage. That’s fine. I’m not running a seminary here. We are the trade-and-merchant class, our children are signed up for a nice practical education that will get them into engineering school. And ask my pastor about roofs, sound boards, and programmable thermostats — you could do worse than a business or engineering degree if you have a calling to become a parish priest. But for those who really do want the same type of education as Thomas Aquinas (whose grandfather was not a plumber), this guy is doing his best to re-create just that.
I keep seeing posts about “reading goals” for the new year, here and there around the internet. I saw one post on a writing site about setting goals, making yourself read _x_ number of books, etc etc.
I am very puzzled. If I were to set a goal, it would be a limit. Like “I will read no more than ____ novels this year”, or “I will not waste more than ____ hours a day sucked into a book that no lives depend on my reading”. [See how I cleverly leave those blanks, so you don’t know exactly how bad the damage is?]
Now I suppose I could be like Darwin and have really lofty goals for reading great works of literature. Except that a lot of times, when I start some famous book, I discover that it is really bad. I mean it. Boring. Annoying. Proof that the author had serious psychological problems. And I just don’t need that in my day. There are enough classics that I do enjoy, that I have a hard time convincing myself I’d be better off if I also read the ones I didn’t. If I wanted to make myself do something edifying, I’d clean my desk or something.
(That said — I’ve discovered the great utility in keeping a couple Insomnia Books lying around the living room. Good stuff that.)
So that’ll be my goal for this year. Not to read any more books than strictly necessary. Where “necessary” means “the amount of books required to keep me sane and prevent any childrens’ heads from being chewed off because I am going absolutely mad with boredom and no TV is not the solution would you please give me back my Economist right now I said right now I mean it RIGHT NOW.”
Also maybe not to yell at people too much. That would be good reading goal too.
[Grumpy would be me, not the long-suffering soul to whom I am wed.]
December is our month to send in charitable donations. We do all gifts in one big batch, because it makes the deciding and record-keeping that much easier.
So the other night the SuperHusband and I sit down for our evening couple time after kids are in bed, and I’m roving through the topics, mostly just exercising my not-so-inner curmudgeon. No lofty goals intended. I mention this blog post about expat parties in Haiti. My conclusion is this: But really, we’re the same way. I feel bad for all those poor people, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have my beer.
And SuperHusband, who is a generous and charitable person, says: I’m not sure aid to Haiti really helps.
I concede that there are no doubt problems in Haiti that no amount of aid will fix, but that certain projects, especially certain Christian humanitarian mission projects, are helping.
SuperHusband brings in North Korea. If you send money to North Korea, it only supports the corrupt regime, and no starving people are saved.
I suspect he is probably correct, but point out that we talking about Haiti tonight, not North Korea.
SuperHusband says that UN aid to Haiti is helping maintain the status quo.
I agree, but observe that for all a UN water truck might discourage the local government from building its own water treatment plant, for the person who will be dead tomorrow without clean water, it might be nice to live long enough to agitate for reform. But in any case, I am not proposing we send money to the UN. I would like to send money to some Christian missionaries.
SuperHusband says that he does not believe change can happen from without. That people must decide for themselves they want change. Therefore, outside aid is not helpful.
Yes, I say. I have discovered that every time I try to work through a major policy problem, I keep coming back to how the answer is Jesus.
Yes, he says.
And isn’t it interesting, I say, how the New Testament doesn’t tell us to send extra money to government aid programs. But curiously, it does tell us Christians to provide for the poor ourselves. Pure religion is this: providing for the widow and the orphan.
And he says okay. Send some money to missionaries.
I thought this one was cool enough to deserve a cross-post. And I couldn’t very well pester Julie again. So I figured I’d better put it up myself:
Enjoy.
UPDATE #1: Katja votes in the combox for working out with heavy weights. I totally agree — if you can pull it off, do it. Since she is fitter & stronger than me, and pretty much would totally school me if I were foolish enough to try to race her.
So if there are any heavy objects lying around in Haiti, there you go. I feel sure you can find something.
UPDATE #3 Christian votes for: Run around the block, do push-ups.
Do they have blocks in Haiti? They have something. Street-like. Sort of. No? If children can be left unattended. Push-ups, though. We know they have that. You can do push-ups in the privacy of your own, spectator-free private quarters.
UPDATE #2: Some links:
A handout on dumbell excercises. A bunch of these are ones I do. Little animated pictures to show you how, plus a description. Could keep you busy for a while.
Here are some rotator cuff exercises, if you have wonky shoulders. Or just for fun.
If I find more useful links, I’ll add them. Surprisingly tricky to find ones I like.
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This is a reply to Gwen of the Mangine Many, who asks:
So. I need some functional toning exercises. Something that I can do here that will help me feel healthier and less jiggly. (Though I do understand that at this point, a moderate to high amount of jiggle is a foregone conclusion.)
If you have a good answer for her (read through her blog to get an idea of her actual life and realisitic conditions), she says:
If you have any ideas, email me at gwenn@joyinhope.org or comment on my facebook once this note imports there…
I wouldn’t mind seeing your answers, too. Since this is a topic on which I’m always looking for ideas. Combox or link to your own post, hmmn?
Meanwhile, here’s my answer:
1) I learned some weight-lifting exercises from various sources. One I found helpful was a library book, Smart Girls Do Dumbells, by Judith Sherman-Wolin. There were others, too. You can probably find some nice websites with suggestions.
2) I learned some core exercises from my PT, a few from this book: Relieving Pelvic Pain During and After Pregnancy by Cecile Rost, and others from other places too.
3) Some exercises I just made up. (And pre-latest-injury, I had some ballet and fencing odds and ends I would included in the repertoire. Lately I’ve been subbing in some shoulder exercises my GP gave me, which are rather helping my persistently weak and crotchety shoulder). There are also some good stretches/range-of-motion exercises in there.
4) I tossed out anything that my body didn’t seem to like. Didn’t matter how much the PT swore it was good for me, or some exercise guru is sure everyone can do it, there are certain movements my body just doesn’t approve. Out with them.
5) I put in a good CD, and do low-weight, high-reps. Just whatever. Start with no weight to warm up, and then go from there. Baby any body parts that need babying, make work hard any body part that is up to it that day.
–> Think of it like going for a walk, only instead of walking, you are doing bicep curls or sit-ups or whatever is on your list. Or like free-range aerobics.
Works great. Not get-ripped-quick, but over the very long term, definitely the strength and fitness has improved. You can use this, btw, to persuade a reluctant body to learn new sports. When I took up fencing, I think I spent a month doing your basic poke-someone-with-a-sword movement *with no sword*. And then the shoulder got on board and I could add some weight.
I can say that at this point, maybe four years in, people sometimes ask me if I have lost weight because I look fitter. (I have gained about twenty pounds – some of it muscle, much of it fluff.) Generally speaking people mistake me for someone who is athletic and fit and not decrepit.
So that works. And it can be done with kids around, doesn’t require space or anything expensive. Works around injuries and illnesses. Works with whatever number of minutes you have — be it five minutes here or there, or 23 minutes between when the kids are supposed to be in bed and when the spouse is ready to visit for a while. (Actually quite good for bedtime, because all that marching to the kids’ room to tell them to be quiet just adds to the fitness, eh?) Tolerates interruptions. Putting away laundry or cleaning up the bedroom makes a good warm-up.