taking a trip

I'm going to Lebanon in June.

I am part of a team of 15 people from my church who are going to serve in the poor communities surrounding Beirut. About half of the team will be working with a children's ministry, running a summer-camp-like experience. Some of the team will work on a building project for the Near East Initiative. I will be serving in the refugee community.

There is an enormous refugee situation in Lebanon due to the civil war that rages in Syria. As of March 13, there are said to be near 750,000 refugees in Lebanon. Almost a million displaced people crammed into a country the size of Western New York. Lebanon isn't the only country receiving refugees, there are refugees in Turkey, Jordan, and Iraq, along with nearly 4 million homeless Syrians who are still in Syria. Nearly a quarter of the Syrian people are displaced.

I have been following the news about Syria for over a year. I read the news every day; I read about children freezing to death because they don't have even the simplest tent to sleep in at night, because they don't have clothing that's warm enough. I read about them starving and contracting typhoid because the only water that is accessible to them is poisoned with sewage. I read about the women; wives, daughters, mothers raped and murdered. I see their photographs, and their wide-eyed faces are the faces of my own babies; the women are my friends, the dead soldiers wear the faces of my husband and brothers.

These people are so very real, and my heart is broken for them.

They have been discarded, thrown away by their corrupt government, murdered by thugs, starved by a hunger for power.

Whatever you do for the least of these, you do for Me.

So I will go, and I will do. Maybe I will serve food, give clothing, hand out clean water, scrub the toilets... I really don't know what my job will be. Yes, I would be thrilled to not scrub toilets for seventeen days, but if seeing this white American girl scrub poo is what I need to do to show the love of my God to people who have nothing, then so be it.

Part of going on a mission trip is raising money. This trip costs about $4000, not including renewing my passport, all of the immunizations, and other random expenses that will pop up along the way. One of the opportunities the team has is to sell Twice Cleansed organic olive oil soap. It has three ingredients: olive oil, water, and lye. Olive oil soap is wonderful for people who have dry, itchy skin. You can click here to read more about the soap, and to make a purchase. A single bar is $5, and a 4-pack is $20. It takes a whole lot of soap-selling to reach $4000, so I would love if you would share the link with your social media circles.

If you aren't interested in soap, but would rather just make a donation to support my fundraising efforts, please let me know, and I will provide you with my paypal address or send you one of the fancy donation envelopes that the church provides. (Fancy donation envelope = tax deduction, btw.)

And as much as I appreciate your financial support, I ask you to pray for my team. We are fully aware that we are travelling to a dangerous place, and that there will be enormous demands on our mental and physical abilities. If you are not a pray-er, we'll take your good thoughts and intentions.

Have questions for me? I'll do my best to answer them in the comment section, unless it's something a little too personal to share with all the interwebs, in which case I'll send you an email.

organize now challenge: the medicine cabinet.

I'll be honest: I was kind of surprised when I saw that the medicine cabinet was going to be a destination for the Organize Now! Challenge.

But then I opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom* adjacent to our kitchen and took a good, long look. What an enormous quantity of crap in a wretched tiny little space.

*This is not our main bathroom. That one is upstairs, and houses the tub and our laundry facilities. We don't actually have a medicine cabinet in that bathroom, just a linen closet and some shelves, and all of our stuff up there is pretty organized, so that'd be no fun for anyone.

did  you think i was going to remember
to take a messy photo? silly.

don't even ask how old that
contact solution is. really.

So. I emptied the lot of it into a super fancy box, and I sat myself down on the throne and proceeded to transfer a good 80% of it into the trash can. Jennifer says to start by pitching anything that's past the expiration date, unfinished antibiotics, old razors, and random nonprescription meds that you just don't use. 

why we don't have nice things, #593:
because kids can't operate antique
light fixtures

 Please note the bare light bulb to the left of the mirror. The light bulb used to be hidden by a lovely milk glass sphere, but it seems the short people did not appreciate the milk glass sphere. I found it shattered on the floor. Two days later, I found the sphere from the light on the right side of the shattered in the sink. No points were awarded that day

.

the finished product.

Et voila! On the top shelf, we have a few bottles of nail polish, some Angry Birds adhesive Bandages (they're technically not band-aids), and a bottle each of children's tylenol and children's advil.

Middle shelf, some essential oils and a bottle of naproxyn (that's generic talk for Aleve.) My neurologist has forbidden tylenol and ibuprofen for me, so we only have the naproxyn. Nobody's sad about this, because it works better and doesn't destroy your liver or give you rebound pain.

On the bottom shelf is The Mister's beard trimmer (yes, he does trim it once in a while), a little thingy of dental floss, an antique soap box, and some Winchester Gun Oil, which is likely there so The Mister can oil his beard trimmer. He wasn't home when I was cleaning, so I am waiting to dispose of it. There's also a mug holding a few tubes of ointments: arnica gel, neosporin-ish stuff, etc. Jennifer recommends putting loose items in zippy bags, but I know I will be fishing them out of the sink seventy-four times a week, and I'm just not into that.

Jennifer also suggests installing a magnetic strip on the inside of the medicine cabinet to store tweezers, scissors and nail clippers. GENIUS. Another excellent idea is to sort your medicine cabinet out once a year to control the clutter that will probably build up.

Want to see what the other participants are up to this week?
Jennifer Ford Berry
Linda 
Bonnie
Jennifer
Michelle

***Please forgive the whacked out photo placement. I messed with it until I had exhausted my supply of bad words, so it's just going to have to be what it is.

organize now challege: memorabilia

Oh, the stuff that piles up when you have four children. My word, people, it can get ugly so fast. The papers, the artwork, the random sticks and stones and bottle caps and strings. Add to that moving into a house packed to the brim with a all of the things your husband's granddad and grandmother owned... Oy.

The Mister and I got married in 2001, months after his grandfather passed away, and we moved into his grandfather's house. Everything was there. Pots, pans, dishes, silverware, linens, furniture, all.of.the.things. On one hand, it was a huge blessing to have everything provided for us. On the other hand, it was just a lot of stuff. And on the other hand, it was very interesting to sort through all the things with my new mother-in-law. 

Most of my stuff from my childhood and college years was in boxes in the garage and basement, where it stayed for YEARS because a) I had no immediate use for it, and b) there was no place to put it. Last summer I went through most of the boxes and discovered that there was next to nothing in any of the boxes that was even sort of important to me. I filled our big green garbage bin; I filled contractor bags. It was SO.CRAZY.GOOD to have it gone.

One of the first things Jen says in her chapter about memorabilia is to save only what is STILL MEANINGFUL to you, not what was meaningful to you back in the day. I pitched random tchotchkes, all the letters from former boyfriends (I had one that really embraced the idea of the love letter), programs from concerts I performed in college that I didn't remember. It felt really good to shed all those extra pounds of things I had stopped caring about.

Another idea Jennifer proposes is to organize photos into archival-quality albums. My two oldest children have well-documented albums of their first few years. I don't have albums of the last two, but I do have thousands upon thousands of digital files of photographs that are organized by month on our computer. And yes, they are backed up. Because seriously people? BACK.UP.YOUR.FILES. It's so easy I can do it all by myself, and I will not have to perform The Ugly Cry if our hard drive bites the dust.

I do have two clothing items I am saving: my high school jacket (I'm really not sure why I'm keeping it, other than that I'm just not ready to pitch it yet), and my wedding dress and veil. Right after our wedding, I had my dress cleaned and preserved, and it lives in the back of my super-small closet in an enormous box. There are some tiny baby clothes saved from when my people were tiny, and those are wrapped in tissue and stored in our non-hypo-allergenic cedar chest, away from the nasty moths.

Now. If only I could part with yarn and fabric as easily. Hrmph.

Check in to see what the other super-organizers are doing!
House of Grace

Michelle

Tapas Lifestyle

Mother Thyme

Jennifer Ford Berry

organize now challenge: post four - the routine

I may have mentioned once or twice that I'm not really a morning person. Turns out that five out of six Daytons in my house is not a morning person. Those are HORRIBLE ODDS, people, horrible. We thrashed through preschool with the oldest two, and very nearly lost our minds with the third. We sent our oldest to public school, and no matter what we did to make it easier, happier, better, it just wasn't a good fit. We went to church Every! Sunday! Because! That's! What! We! Did! It was brutal, and I'm pretty sure that the answer to the cliche "What Would Jesus Do?" was nothing that was actually happening in our home.

So we stopped. We evaluated our options. We slowed down.

And oh, my word, people, the thrashing about and soldiering on fell away. We found our rhythm, one that is a little bit flexible and a little bit scheduled. Some of the short people like to cuddle in our bed in the morning and talk about The Things and The Stuff; another one grabs his school books and joins in the pile. Some days we school at the kitchen table, on others we grab a quilt and head to the back yard (not now, obvs, but in the autumn and spring), sometimes everyone fetches their own quilts and hunkers down on the sofa with assorted school books and novels.

It works for us. 

Even so, there are days when we need to get up and out in short order, namely homeschool group days. The short people each have three classes, and I usually teach one or two fiber arts classes. This semester it's crochet. 

The first tip in the Organize Your Morning Routine chapter is to have a list for each person's to-dos, including chores, grooming habits, breakfast, etc. Next, Jen suggests that you estimate how long it takes each person to do each item on the list, and plan a Rise-and-Shine time based on that. The third tip is to pare the list down, and eliminate all the things you can do the night before. Jen also recommends establishing a family "Launch Pad", a resting place for all the items that will be grabbed on the way out the door.

This is how it works out for us:

The Night Before:

1. Pack all the supplies I need to teach my classes. This semester, it's extra crochet hooks, scissors, extra yarn, finished squares for the blanket we're making.
2. Pack snacks for after class. Usually I stuff our picnic basket with apples, cheese sticks, yogurt and something salty. And water bottles. Lord help me if I forget the water bottles.
3. Round up anything each of the short people needs to take to class. This is usually a pretty quick item, but one semester I forgot to double check that a certain girl-child had packed the novel the class was discussing and the notebook... EVERY CLASS. Six times in a row. I earned an F for FORGETTER.
4. Pack five pairs of shoes, so that when the winter boots come off, shoes can go on. My people are notorious for forgetting shoes (see item 3 and know they come by this honestly).
5. Take all of the packed things out to the car.
6. Remove bagels and cream cheese from the fridge so breakfast is easy-peasy.
7. Load slow cooker with next-day's dinner. Plug slow cooker into the outlet, otherwise the Ugly Cry is guaranteed at approximately 3:25 the next afternoon.

The Morning Of:

1. Wake everyone by 7:45. Except Jack, because he's always already up.
2. Wake everyone up again at 8:00.
3. Forcibly remove girl-child from bed no later than 8:10. 
4. Everybody gets dressed before going downstairs. Except Jack, because he's already dressed, and has been entertaining himself for an hour.
5. I toast bagels and spread cream cheese and make coffee for me (and sometimes the girl-child will get a mocha if she's playing nicely with others; I'm not above a bribe).
6. Short people put on coats and boots, and when their bagel is wrapped in a napkin, they get in the car.
7. We need to be driving away from the house no later than 8:45 in good weather, and no later than 8:30 in wretched weather, because we have an hour drive.

Jen's tips for Organizing the Evening Routine are pretty similar, but also include setting consistent dinner and bed times.

We usually eat dinner between 6 and 6:30, depending on when The Mister gets home from work. The boys are in their pajamas by 7:30, and they snack while The Mister reads to them. They are in bed around 8:30, and then we spend time with Miss O and Elliott; they're the night owls of the bunch. 

I think the most important question to ask when you're creating a routine and a daily schedule is, "Is this good for my family?" Parents are so busy paying attention to so many things that it is really easy for us to forget that we are growing the next generation of adults. Doing all of the things all of the time is not always the best lesson to teach our babies. 

Here's what the other (much more prompt) ladies have to say about their routines:

Bonnie at House of Grace

Jennifer at Mother Thyme

Linda at Tapas Lifestyle

P.S. It sounds like I kicked church to the curb, but that's not the case. The Mister works at a church with a Saturday night service, so we attend there. And when it doesn't work out, we put our big kid pants on and pull it together for Sunday morning service.

organize now challenge: post OMG THE SICKNESS

I have totally dropped the ball with the Organizing Things Now.  And yes, this is where I blame everything on my children and the Cold Of Death I had for days and days and days.

I was on a roll, people. I had MOTIVATION! and AMBITION! and I was making SERIOUS PROGRESS.  And then I sat on the sofa with my snot-nosed, barfy kids for the better part of three weeks, which is totally what I really should have been doing, you know, the whole mothering thing. 

But dang. 

Yesterday I cleared my kitchen counters and scrubbed all the things. Today, I made some pretty awesome refried beans for burritos, watched my six year old make cupcakes, and then watched all four of them dump sprinkles all over my kitchen. 

The laundry has erupted. Again. The bedrooms are a mess. There are sprinkles in my socks.

Sigh.

Tomorrow we will be back at the routine. Wish me luck. Send cake. Both.

organize now challenge: post the fifth - papers

Here's a tip to reduce the number of trees you are killing: take your kid out of public school. 

I KID. Really. I'm joking. Pulling your kid out of school to manage your paper issues is a terrible decision, and if your paper issues are that bad, I'm really sad for you.

Not a joke: We do not have mail delivery on my street. There's a real live mail delivery lady who lives on our street, but the only time the mail Jeep drives by is when she's headed to work, or on her way home. We have to go to the Post Office to fetch our mail.  

You might think it's annoying, but let me tell you what the Post Office has besides mail: RECYCLING BINS. All my junk mail? Stays at the Post Office. Stuff never enters my home unless The Mister happens to be the one to get the mail because he just grabs the stuff and gets in the car. Not me. I open, read, and pitch what is useless. I LOVE HAVING TO GO TO THE POST OFFICE.

Another superty awesome thing I have discovered is that EVERYTHING CAN BE PAID ONLINE, thereby eliminating (almost) all of our outgoing mail. We get the occasional invoice in the mail, and if I'm really on top of things I pay it while I'm at the post office sorting the day's mail. This also means I don't keep stamps at my house (translation: I don't LOSE stamps at my house).

My favourite part of each chapter in Jen's book is the Stay Organized! list of suggestions. I can institute a new system like a boss, but sticking with it is not my strong suit. She suggests cleaning out your mail basket once a week, and once a month, making sure you've addressed all the invites/bills/random letters that are piling up. 

Want to see what the other participants are doing with their papers?
Jennifer Ford-Berry
Linda DeFalco 
Jennifer from Mother Thyme
Michelle McDermott

organize now challenge: post the third

Our mission: TAKE DOWN THE BEDROOM CLOSET.

Well, not exactly a taking down of, more of a sorting out. But I'll get to that in a minute.

Background info about my house:

1. half of my house was built in the 1860's. ish. 
2. the other half-ish of my house was built in the early-mid 1900's.
3. people back in those days did not believe in closets.

When I stand in the doorway of my bedroom closet, I can extend my arm and touch the back of the closet. Without leaning. When I stand just inside my bedroom closet, I can extend my right arm, lean ever-so-slightly, and touch the far wall of the closet. Also, standing just inside my closet, I can stick my left elbow out and touch the left wall of the closet. 

Summary: There is not enough room in my closet to do the Hokey-Pokey. 

Additionally: About a third of my closet is taken up by a rather large box containing my wedding dress. I'm not ready to part with it just yet, and there is literally nowhere else to store it in my house. 

So there's that.  

In the closet, there's one bar on which garments can be hung, and a shelf above the bar. I keep my jeans folded nicely in a pile on the shelf, and a stack of bulky sweaters that are not well-suited for hanging in another pile. That's as useful as I can make the space.

sweaters, jeans, and my corset and chemise.
what, you don't keep your corset in the closet?

Fortunately, Jen's first tip for organizing a bedroom closet is to begin by pitching things, starting with the mess. Anything you haven't worn in over a year, things that are out of style, wrecked by your offspring, and that God-awful sweater your grandma gave you for Christmas this year.  

I had a Truly Horrific Pile on the floor of my closet, comprised mostly of random things I didn't want to put away. So I picked up the pile, checked to make sure my superty nice woolen socks were not hiding in it, and I pitched the whole thing. I stuffed the lot of it into a contractor bag and took it out to the curb. I didn't recycle it, I didn't give it away, I didn't box it up for the Salvation Army Thrift Store. I am not so good with sorting through things, it takes me forever, I look at every last item and think about it, and I have done this since childhood. In the future, when I'm not swamped with an ugly mess, I will take the time and use the brain power to divide and conquer, but that was just not.going.to.happen.this.week.

Let me tell you: giving myself permission to let go of the stuff, and just straight-up purge it out of my world was really freeing. Really, really, wonderfully freeing. 

inside the closet door: double hook holding the bathrobe
and a hangar with my many scarves

Most of the tips about organizing the clothing inside the closet after emptying it out don't really apply to us.  I can count on one hand the number of button-down shirts owned by The Mister, and I have a small, but versatile Grown-Up Clothes wardrobe. For the majority of the year, my uniform consists of a long-sleeved t-shirt, layered with various sweaters or knee-length dresses. 

three jackets, six cardigans, two shirts

I think it is very clever of Jen to suggest hanging similar items together by color. I have included a photo of this despite the fact that most of my clothes are black, brown and grey, and the lighting is wretched and everything looks black. Very not exciting. Another tip is to purchase a battery-powered light and stick it to the wall of the closet, and I am seriously considering that.  She also recommends using a shoe rack or over-the-door shoe organizer, and I do that, except mine is in the kitchen, near the front door. If I had to go up to my room to put my shoes away every time I came in the house, my shoes would never end up in my bedroom closet. 

At the end of every weekly assignment in Organize Now! is a short checklist of things to keep the area organized. There's a once a month list, a 3-6 month list, and a once a year list. Maybe "list" is not the best word to use, it's more like a couple of bullet points for each time frame. I appreciate this kind of instruction, because it's the staying organized once I've got my act together that I'm really worried about.  

It's just about February, which means I've stuck to my guns for a month already. Now how long do you have to do something before it becomes a habit? Am I close? Are we there yet? Bueller?

***
Visit the other bloggers taking the Organize Now! Challenge:
Tapas Lifestyle
Mother Thyme
House of Grace
Michelle Murphy

organize now challenge: week 2

This week for the Organize Now Challenge, the focus was on sorting out the kitchen cabinets.

The assignment was to get rid of stuff we don't use, clear out broken tools and dishes, and toss the clutter. Jennifer Ford Berry, author of Organize Now, suggests keeping only a few of your favourite coffee mugs, ditching the mismatched plastic containers and giving the boot to appliances that are only collecting dust.

I was feeling a bit like an organizing smarty-pants because I had my dishes, glasses and silverware right between the sink and dishwasher, and my pots, cooking utensils and spices are all located near the stove where I do most of the cooking. (Even better? NO JUNK DRAWER.)

That's where the smarty-pants-ness ends, though. I have the opposite problem that most people face in a kitchen. I have SO.SO.SO MUCH COUNTERSPACE, and way too many cupboards. My downfall is letting the counters get piled up, "flat surface syndrome", if you will. Even before the challenge began, I have been vigilant about keeping my countertops in order. I feel so much more relaxed in my kitchen when I'm not surrounded by piles. The only appliances on the counter are my toaster oven, my Senseo coffee maker, and the microwave. The microwave and I are not pals, but I keep it around to heat up my Hotsy-Coldsy bags.  I have an enormous stainless steel bowl for making bread and pizza dough, and that lives on top of the toaster oven because I use it three or four times a week.

To keep my kitchen tools and pans contained to only a few cupboards, I store some of my home-canned jars of food in more than half of the cupboards. I find that we eat more home-canned foods when they are within arm's reach, rather than taking a trip to the basement every time we need some pickles or applesauce. When I'm running low on home-canned goodness upstairs, I get a box, grab a little bit of everything, and restock the kitchen cupboards.

I do have a handful of photos to document my efforts, but I'm having trouble getting Flickr and Instagram and Blogger to play nicely together, so I'm just going to hit the publish button and figure it out later. Some days are just like that, you know? I'll also post links to Jennifer's blog and the blogs of the other ladies who are participating.

the gift of silver

I left my house the other night without children. WITHOUT CHILDREN. If I'm being honest with me, I say I am getting really bad about doing things for me; or, if I'm feeling like a pity party, I tell myself it's a season, and they will  soon go away and I can go to the movies any time I please.

Which will likely be thrice weekly, supposing there's anything interesting playing.

So I went to see Les Miserables with a friend. I had extra napkins, I was ready. Because really, when you are going to see a musical where everybody dies, you need to be prepared. I was ready for The Epic Crying.

I was not ready for The Epic Cry to begin when the bishop gave Valjean the candlesticks. 

I should back up. Not everybody has read the novel by Victor Hugo (you really should), nor has everyone seen the musical, even though every professional, semi-professional, amateur, and high school theatre group in the nation has performed it in the last 15 years. 

Here's a little summary: Valjean was in prison for 19 years, 5 of those for stealing bread to feed his sister's dying child, and 14 more for trying to escape. He gets paroled, and wanders around trying without success to find work, because nobody will hire a dangerous! man! A bishop shows Valjean kindness, offers him food and a place to sleep, and Valjean repays him by stealing most of the silver on the premises. Naturally, Valjean is caught by the local gendarmes, and is brought back to the bishop's residence. The police tell the bishop that they have recovered his stolen silver, and that Valjean will return to prison, despite his claims that the bishop gave him the silver. Without missing a beat, the bishop tells Valjean that he left in such a rush he must have forgotten the silver candlesticks, how terrible that he forgot the best silver of the collection. The police are terribly confused, but go about their business, and leave Valjean with the bishop.

Valjean stole the silver. His guilt is not debatable. And yet the bishop corroborated Valjean's story.

Hugo used the character of the bishop to speak the voice of God to Valjean. Hugo got God right. I know I have done some serious silver stealing in my time, not actual silver stealing, of course. I have spoken and behaved in ways that have caused other people grief and hurt, sometimes by accident, sometimes not so accidentally. Sometimes it happens by accident, but the result makes my inner mean girl grin a bit. It's a really horrible thing to live with, knowing exactly what it feels like to be on the receiving end and at the same time being the person who is handing it out.

I have been given the candlesticks, and not just once. I can see clearly so.many.times. when I have screwed up royally and have been shown beautiful, undeserved mercy. In the same moment, I see so many more times when I have been utterly merciless and it fills me with horrified embarrassment. I don't understand why I choose unkindness and unforgiveness and mercilessness when I know how it makes me feel to do that, but even more importantly, how it feels to be treated that way. It's dreadful.

I am meditating on Micah 6:8 this year:

He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the LORD require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

Intentional mercy. Intentional forgiveness. Intentional kindness. Intentionally training myself upward.

organize now challenge. post the first.

Confession: I'm not a super organized person. (that snickering you hear is the laughter of every person who has met me in real life.)

Confession: Most of my disorganization has to do with some not-charming experiences I have, umm, experienced, and no, I'm not going to talk about that here.

Confession: The rest of my disorganization comes from apathy and laziness and the whole I'd-rather-be-spending-my-time-on-something-else. And let me tell you, that last item is powerful. 

BUT. I'm a grown-up, and I am actually in possession of Big Girl Pants, so I'm going to put them on. I'm participating in the 12 week Organize Now Challenge with local author and organized life expert Jennifer Ford Berry and also Spring Cleaning 365. 

Because WHY DO ANYTHING IN MODERATION. (famous last words)

I'm not actually blogging about Spring Cleaning 365, I just wanted to mention it because if you're a crappy housekeeper with undiagnosed attention issues, and a bipolar relationship to cleaning (meaning you either never clean, or you ARE CLEANING ALL THE THINGS!!!! until you are passed out and crippled), this could be just the thing for you. Each task has been manageable except for my manic CLEANING ALL THE THINGS!!!, but I am getting better about doing the one assignment and backing away slowly.

I *am* officially blogging about the 12 week Organize Now Challenge. This week I'm working on my schedule. As I mentioned, I'm not really organized, so starting with planning my schedule makes a lot of sense.

Here are some of the weekly goals I found to be really useful:

1. Buy one planner and use it for everything. 

now my planner looks like me.
well, supposing i had green button eyes.

I spent some time looking at planners at Target. There were a ton that had a monthly calendar page, and then a 2 page spread for each week, plus an address book, plus stickers, plus who knows what else. That is just too much information and cross-referencing for my little brain. I need simpler. Maybe someday when I'm an official Organized Grown-Up I will be able to handle writing things down in 2 places, and possibly leap over tall buildings in a single bound, but for now, that's just more than I want to manage.

I am thrilled with what I found. There is a two-page monthly calendar, one for each month, and the rest of the book is a notebook. That's it. In the past I have tried to keep a calendar and a notebook (I really love these little guys... the 3 1/2" x 5" ones with graph paper), and it never worked. I need my lists and I need my calendar. I can keep a list going for the grocery store, for the library, business orders, and I can also (hopefully) stop standing up our dentist.

2. Plan the month with the whole family.

This was a pretty easy task. The Mister works a non-conventional job with non-conventional hours, so pretty much all of the errand-running falls to me. I penciled in our weekly trip to the library, church on Saturday night, grocery store (if needed), homeschool group dates until the end of the year, dentist appointments, birthdays, the big group camping trip, Lego club, camp...everything I could think of.

here's january. and yes, i did see les mis last wednesday.

3. Use a page of the planner for long-term to-do lists.

The last page of the planner? It's the long-term list.  Things like EMPTY THE GARAGE SO I CAN PARK THERE NEXT WINTER. Nothing major. Heh.

In the "Once A Year" section, Jennifer recommends choosing a planner that you really love the look and feel of, that fits your style, so that you actually use it. I really like the size of my planner, and what is on the inside, but the outside was sort of blah, and since I make pretty useful things for other people, I decided to pretty up this useful item for me. 

the valley inn, for every occasion

Here is a list of the other four bloggers participating in the Organize Now Challenge. And here is my disclosure: I have received a copy of Organize Now in exchange for sharing my experience with the Organize Now Challenge. All views and opinions expressed are mine and mine alone.

let's try this again. maybe.

it's been about a year, and i've been mostly quiet.

sometimes that happens.

sometimes it has to happen.

i could say that 2012 offered an endless stream of hassle.

it's true.

but it was full of learning about myself, about my people.

it was full of learning about the people around me, that 

opinions are formed about you (me) independent of 

fact and truth.

i learned that my child would do better if he was able to do better.

i learned that behaviours are often unrelated to attitudes.

i learned that sometimes the things that hold you (me) back are 

held firmly in place by the rubble of things that happened long ago.

sorting through piles of destruction is hard work.

i learned open hearth cooking, and how to bake in a brick oven.

whilst wearing proper underpinnings for a woman in the 1850's.

including a corset.

i learned that making pretty, useful things for people is 

terrifically satisfying.

i love sitting in my work space, sewing away,

while my people do their schoolwork.

i learned that the unorthodox sometimes is the best fit.

also in the very satisfying category:

drinking a guinness after setting up our enormous

10-person tent, after driving 5 hours, after packing for a camping trip,

ALONE (plus the short people).

i learned that i can do all the things.

well, many of the things.

there is always more to master.

in five minutes, a sample

Mama, will Henry get his own Christmas tree?
Probably not.

Mama, what is there to eat?
Have an apple.

Mama, Jack doesn't do it fair.
We all know this.

Mama, I can't get my pajamas arms sort outed.
I can help with that.

::whine::
(ignore)

Mama, I'm hungry.
Have an apple.

Mama, I want a glass of water.
How would you say that if you really wanted a glass of water?
Mama, please I may have a glass of water?
Thank you.

Mama, can Henry play your iPad?
Not right now.
Well, when, then?
I don't know, maybe later.

Mama, can I have a coffee?
Can is a question of ability. 'May I' is a question of permission. You *can* drink coffee, but you may not.

Mama, I'm still hungry.
Did you eat an apple?
No.
Perhaps you will eat an apple?

Mama, do I have to empty the dishwasher?
Yes.
But I don't wanna.
Do you want to eat dinner?
Yes.
But I don't wanna make dinner.
Fine.

Mama, there's nothing to do.
How about some math?
::whine face::
Read a book?
::same face::
Play outside?
::same face, more feigned pain::
Legos?
::whine face + whine noise::
Stare at the wall? Go to bed?
I'll go outside.
What a good idea.

Mama, is there anything to eat?
Yes. There is. May I suggest an apple?

autumn

The season changed, so I stopped by to say hello. Things are still ever so much as they always are, filled with people growing fatter then taller, out of their jeans and too big for their britches. There is schooling, canning, bread-making, pie baking, and lots of working. 

And let me not forget the very exciting things, like paying the (HUGE and TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATELY IRRESPONSIBLE) fine on my library card, and being allowed to, once again, borrow books from the library. The short people are ecstatic. So is the library.

***

I was knitting in church last night. I knit so I don't chew my fingernails to bloody stumps. Bloody stumps are so unattractive, and knitting is so very attractive, so I thought I had found a suitable alternative to the bloody stump situation. Alas, my knitting was deemed Quite Grievous by the preacher, so much, in fact, that he called me out in front of the congregation. "I'm glad I have your attention now," he boomed. "You had my attention all along," I retorted, "I just ran out of yarn."

Flip comment brought further pastoral consternation and giggles from the peanut gallery. Explanation of, and apology for the Theory of Bloody Stumpage to the preacher did nothing to redeem me. Alas.

***

Elliott has rewritten the lyrics to "Call Me Maybe". Highlights include this gem:

dis is crazy

here's Grandma's number

call her later

Kid has a future in songwriting. His other hit is the one-line-wonder I'm Not Going Home. We hear it more than most people hear Carly Rae and Gotye. Way more. 

***

In a really long and drawn out series of bad decisions, one of my children told me that my name should really be Ass Pamela, or better yet, Ass Aardvark. Because nothing makes soap taste worse than poorly-timed alliteration. At least, I imagine that nothing could make soap taste any worse than it tastes despite my negligible knowledge of soap tastes. The Mister tried it and said that pomegranate-orange goat's milk soap was not much of a punishment, but it has been nearly a week, and The Perp hasn't referred to me as an Ass Aardvark again, so maybe it was effective. We'll see.

***

Anything exciting in your neck of the woods?

update

Dear ones, The good news is that I have a new doctor, a TMD specialist, who understands why I am having migraines and is confident that he knows how to fix me and make my pain disappear. The bad news is that the poking, prodding, manipulating and maneuvering has given me the worst head pain I have had in my entire life. I am not a girl who cries very much for any reason, but for the past two days tears have been spilling down my cheeks because of the pain. On Monday I return to the doctor's office for two and a half more hours of testing, and I cannot have any pain meds for 12 hours before the test. I am terrified. I can usually see things pretty rationally, but I am freaking out. The thought of hurting more than I hurt right now is just too much. So please, if you are one who prays, pray for me. For peace, for relief, for patience with this process. If you aren't a pray-er, do your thing for me. I hear things seem darkest right before they are fixed, and if that's true, I anticipate something truly wonderful. I just need to make it from right now until then. Thanks.

hey, you guys.

Everybody is crying here. Or punching other people in the mouth. Some are doing both. All the long-faced whiney-pantses were up by seven, which is completely abnormal. We do not do mornings here. 

 Elliott is currently laying on his belly, on two pillows, on the sofa, with his legs flopped up and over the back of said sofa. He is kicking himself in the butt, every couple of kicks he says, "I win!" Perhaps he will nap; 9:30 a.m. naps are divine. 

 I don't actually KNOW if they are divine, as I do not remember having a 9:30 nap. I assume they are divine. I believe in naps.

**** 

 Short list of things, other than crying and punches in the mouth, that have happened: 

1. Elliott turned three, and has embraced 3-ness with every ounce of his being. 
2. The H-bomb has announced his intention to learn the bagpipes. 
3. The village where we live told us we had to get rid of our chickens because we were in violation of the zoning ordinances. 
4. I turned 35. 
5. I got a job. (I typed "I got a Jon". But I already had a Jon.) 
6. I remembered some things from my childhood that explain a LOT. 
7.  I got a tattoo. 

 **** 

 Speaking of how awesome three year-olds are, mine is forever chewing on his shirt. Every time I turn around, kid is chomping away. Super gross. Tell me how to make this stop. It's gross, and he's wet and that is gross and have I mentioned gross? Is there some sort of clothing pepper spray that I can apply to deter him? 

 **** 

 I would also like to mention, in regards to Item 3 in the list up there, that there is a village resident who lives in close proximity to the mayor, who has a rooster. This rooster crows all day long. I can hear it in my house. Did that guy (or woman) get a zoning violation notice? NO. For the record, I do not care even the tiniest bit that I can hear the rooster. I like them in other people's yards. I just think the general Ignoring The Premise Of Equal Application Of The Law is ridiculous. But whatever, to each village, its own... Ummm... choices to ignore the Constitution and the Bill of Rights ??? and stuff??? The whole story is another post for another day. 

My people seem to have settled down, so I'm going to see if I can get them to do something useful. Wish me luck.

so that happened.

I drove to Canada yesterday. It`s really not that big of a deal to drive to Canada from where I live, it takes a little bit more than an hour if nobody needs to stop to pee.

My plan had been to cross into Canada at the Peace Bridge, which connects Niagara Falls, NY, USA with Niagara Falls, ON, Canada. That didn`t happen because someone was talking or punching someone else and I was distracted.  Fortunately, there are LOTS of options for entering Canada legally, and we got stuff sorted out and all was well.

The Canadian border agent was very nice, because, well, he was Canadian, and it`s a law or something that they have to be nice. I presented him with the many birth certificates, my ID, and the notarized permission slip The Mister had drafted that said I was allowed to leave the US with our children. When we finished, Henry said I like that guy, and by Ì like that guy, I mean I LIKE HIS GUN. 

Okay, then.

We went to Ikea, because it was on the way and I believe in being practical, and also nothing says GOOD TIME like a shopping cart that doesn`t turn and four kids in flip flops. 

We had about 2 hours left of our trip, which meant it was the perfect time for the GPS (borrowed from the in-laws) to become possessed by the devil and the anti-saint of good travel and the whole trip went straight to hell in the handbasket most commonly known as my supercool minivan.

North on the QEW. NO WAIT!!!! Turn around and go south on the QEW. NO WAIT!!! turn around, turn around, recalculating, recalculating, no satellite contact, recalculating....OH SCREW IT YOU`RE LOST. SORRY ABOUT YOUR LUCK.

Also... no cell phone service.  Did I mention I was alone. (That was a question, honest, but the Canadian computer keyboard has the French accent grave enabled where the US question mark should be.) And more also... no actual written down address of the place we were going. Because nothing helps when trying to locate a house in another country as much as not having an address.

FOUR HOURS LATER, we arrived at our destination. 

Olivia was quick to inform our hosts that I was using some VERY VERY VERY bad language, and that somehow the boys didn`t notice. Direct quote: I honestly can`t imagine how that happened, though. Yeah, me neither.

Anybody have an awesome travelling alone with the short people story (yes, this is a question). Do tell.

i know.

i remembered.

i know who you are, and i know what you did.
i think i always knew, somewhere, in my innermost hiding-place self.
but last week, i remembered.

oddly enough, i'm not angry.
i'm disappointed, disgusted, sad.

you took what was not yours, and not just from me.
i was not the only one.
i.know.who.you.are.
and so do you.

hiatus

We are unplugging the internet over here.
It's not because we dislike the internet,
but because we like other things more.
Things like, say, owning our home, heating our home, eating.
You get the picture.
If you miss me terribly, you can email me *the*dayton*time*at*gmail*dot*com.
Or if you have my number, you can give me a call or text me a little love note.
And I will check into the effbooks from time to time.
I will also be paying attention to my etsy shop every few days.
Be well, y'all.

this is what's up

Moved furniture yesterday. And still today. Gah. It is taking two days because every time I think I am finished sweeping and vacuuming, someone dumps something vile or crumb-filled on the floor. Or furniture. Or someone needs to eat. Or have a diaper changed.

And sometimes I need a break because OH MY GOODNESS IT IS BLOODY EXHAUSTING UP IN HERE.

My biggest baby turned nine this week. Woah.

My smallest baby is in love with mashed potatoes.

My washing machine is either broken or possessed by a wicked demon. It beeps continually, and plays dead in the middle of a cycle. Good times... THAT WILL COST ME A BAJILLION DOLLARS.

My iPad recognizes the word BAJILLION, but not the word WOAH.

I took all four of my people to the dentist in their pajamas yesterday. There was more than 65% refusal rate, and I was not going to be charged with a cancellation fee, so pajamas it was. I'm going to count that as a win, because, well, I can.

I found a Craigslist post for a whole lot of wool fabric. I think I will buy it to make coats for the boys.

My third babe likes to dress monochromatically. Today it's red. Red sweater (no alligator) and red corduroy pants. Usually it's yellow.

The fourth and final child has been tormenting the cats lately. I tend toward natural consequence-style parenting, and I have not stopped the cats from slapping him with their claws out. And the beating he is taking from the cats is not stopping him from beating the cats. Hmmm.

We are dyeing play silks later today, and a cashmere sweater-pants-cap set that I made from a slightly hole-y cardigan. Then we will make pizza and watch The Wizard of Oz. And then maybe some Harry Potter. And maybe some popcorn.

Also and finally? I want some slipcovers for my furnitures.

That is all. Carry on.

is this thing on?

I haven't had much to say.  Really. 

The weather has been gorgeous. I did a lot of sewing and knitting. We schooled and unschooled and field-tripped. The Mister is enjoying his dream job, and we have been enjoying having him at home two days a week now that Christmas is over. 

Jack has taken to wearing one of two black hooded sweatshirts constantly, inspiring Henry to wear any of my wool sweaters that he can squirm inside fastest. Elliott? Well, he would prefer to get dressed and never, ever change his clothes, NOT! EVER! And speaking of not ever? That never changing his clothes is not ever going to happen.

It's odd to have started a hibernation of sorts while the weather has been so balmy, but now that it's cold and snowy and actually doing things that seem like winter outside, I'm in full hibernation mode. Lots of school happens on or near the sofa, buried in heaps of quilts, with hot cocoa and popcorn. The cocoa and popcorn make it a Hip and Fun School Party and not Boring Drudgery, or at least that's what I am trying to get them to believe.

I've discovered that a three-inch-long cuff on mittens is not nearly long enough to protect the tender arms. I think I'm just going to knit knee-length tube socks, and add a thumb hole. And by knee-length, I mean The Size To Fit From My Knee To My Toes, Even For Elliott. I am also going to only knit them in one color and size, so that there is always a pair.

Does anybody else struggle with mittens? They make me crazy. We seem to be able to keep our hats, but it's the mittens that give me problems. I just know they have formed a little mitten conspiracy and are planning to go into hiding. Stinkers.

A fuzzy-footed little man has just climbed into my lap, asking me to "daw a bawoon pease." I think I'll oblige him.