Pillow Talk

Bedtime is my favorite time of day. It's quiet in the house, the bed is warm and cozy and there's nothing to worry about.

It's the time when we talk.

With no dogs to let in and out, and in, and out. No dishes that need washed, no floors that need swept, no screens of any type to distract us, we have some time before we drift off to sleep where we can have some really meaningful, or perhaps, meaningless, conversations.

We talk about everything. Philosophy, psychology, theology... How comfortable these sheets are compared to the ones we used last. Anything either of us has on our minds through the day is told in the darkness.

There's something special about allowing your strangest thoughts, your strongest opinions, your wildest dreams, to be known by someone else. It's a beautiful part of our relationship that everyone should have, some time in their day or other. Ours is bedtime. What's yours?

Then, after we've talked, for five minutes or fifty, Zach inevitably falls asleep, and I have my own personal quiet time to speak with the most important man in my life. Devotions are nice, but when there's no cat crawling on your lap, no dogs ringing the bells, nothing to get in the way... Now that....

Is truly incredible.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle 

Pregnancy 23

1. Baby is in my belly. I smell everything.
2. He maketh me to lie down and ignore my chores, he leadeth me back to the bedroom.
3. She draineth my energy. She leads me in paths of rest for her health's sake.
4. Yea, though I walk through the alley (and mountain, and valley, and mountain) of mood swings, my husband will fear no evil. His computer and the dogs, they comfort him.
5. Thou preparest a table of saltines before me, thou annointest my head with thoughts. My c cups runneth over.
6. Surely the pitter patter of little feet will follow me soon; and we will dwell in the house of parenthood forever.

Amen.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

P.S. I'm told it gets better after you pass the first trimester.

Has it been ten years?

As I prepare to head to the opening of Awana this evening, I am reminded that none of the children I will work with today were any older than two ten years ago. They don't remember 9/11. They know it happened, but they probably still don't understand what it was.

While those of us who are older still vividly remember the events of the day, it will soon be taught in history classes around the nation if it is not already. Let us never forget, and let us always teach our children why we remember and commemorate this day. A day when our very way of life, our belief system, everything that makes us, us was attacked.

It's been ten years now, and of course I remember that day very clearly. I am reminded of it often throughout daily life.

I also know that while we must never forget it, we must never live IN it. We must continue to move on. We must live as we would have before to the best of our abilities. If we live in fear or worry, no matter what comes next, the men who knocked the towers down have won everything they hoped to. We remember. We teach our children. We take precautions. We work to ensure it does not happen again, but we do not hide from life.

I love my country, I pray for its leaders and for wisdom of those in it, and who live out of it because they're protecting it. I live here without fear because of the men and women who fight for it.

I will never forget.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

25 things.....

Today is my 25th birthday.

Some people consiter it a milestone. You're young, but you're not really considered a 'kid' anymore. Of course, most people who know me don't consider me a 'kid' at all, even though they know I'm young, but that's not the point of this post....

I have decided to use this milestone and make a list! Yay! You know that most people have lists of "thirty things to do before you turn 30" or some such. Well, this is MY version of that list.

It is just a list. I'm not explaining my action... Or inaction. It's not a list of things I don't and didn't want to do, or things I wanted to do, or things I plan on doing, it's just things... Well... you'll see.

25 things I DIDN'T do before I turned 25


1. Had a one night Stand
2. Done drugs
3. Gone on a backpacking tour of Europe
4. Ridden every single roller coaster in a theme park in one day
5. Had a child
6. Lived completely alone
7. Figured out how to get rid of poison ivy once it reaches my face on my own.
8. Learned how to run without breaking my ankles
9. Learned how to ENJOY exercise
9. Skydived
10. Bungee jumped
11. Anything else that involves jumping of a perfectly good something to fall to the ground below
12. Gone on a cross country road trip
13. Been so drunk I passed out- well Once I did have two drinks and got so tired I went to bed... After midnight... Does that count?
14. Stayed up for three days straight.
15. Been overseas
16. Told my parents I hated them
17. Performed in a play of any kind as an adult
18. Gotten a tatoo
19. Skipped out on something by pretending to be ill (Although I've missed plenty of things I love while being truly sick)
20. Written a book (But I've had professors accuse me of such)
21. Learned how to dance
22. Gotten to like World of Warcraft (Sorry, Chris!)
23. Had no bruises on my legs.
24. Watched the Titanic
25. Made something that looked as good as it did in the book/ magazine/ television.

There. That's it.

Have I missed out? Oh sure. On what? Well, that depends on who you ask, but certainly a lot more than this.... But I have time to make up for it, and I intend to.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

On this day in 2010

Facebook has a new feature. You can now see what you or your friends were up to "On this day in 2010." I'm not entirely sure how to make it show up, but this time last year was a very busy time, and I'm quite enjoying reading the old statuses and thinking of everything we've done in it. Especially when it's displayed with such a historic sounding title as "On this day in 2010." Don't worry. I know I just talked about what we did all last year. I'm not going to run you through it all again.

On this day in 2010, We had finished most of the packing and Dad, John, and Chris had come to The Frozen North Country to help us move all of our stuff into a truck and ship it back to Maryland. We had gotten the rental truck, been pulled over for smuggling people across the border, and were packing stuff into the truck in preparation for the twelve hour trip.

Emotions were high. I was stressed, we had only had a week to plan, prep and move. I was excited, we were moving back down to the DC area, where I had grown up. I was nervous, what was going to happen once we got down there? Surely we weren't going to live with my grandparents forever! I was even a little sad.

On this day in 2011, I am feeling quite different. The animals are sleeping, I haven't had to look at a box for weeks, we have plans for Thursday to go to a ball game with Dad, the house is clean and tidy (well, except for the laundry that Monty own't let me fold), and Zach is at work and will be late, like he has been for the past several weeks due to an overabundance of work and a lack of workers.

***We interrupt this blog post to bring you breaking news***

There has been an earthquake all along the East Coast!

That's it. You can look it up in the news but I thought I should probably mention it, as it is a rather strange occurrence and I was in the middle of writing as it started.

***We now bring you back to the not so historical, historical blog post***


While we left behind a lot of things in Maryland and don't for one moment regret our decision to come back down, we had built a life in New York. We had made friends and plans and were rather firmly rooted in the neighborhood- at least to a few people. We grew to love the people and still talk of them often. When it's cold nine months out of the year (well, maybe not quite that much, but it seemed like it to us!) people develop warm hearts and open arms.

Even when you get what you really wanted- a place close to family, a home that you bought, and a warmer climate- there are always trade offs. We'll always remember and always be thankful for the people in The North Country.

And that's what I'm thinking about On This Day in 2011. Those people in 2009-2010 (and the earthquake).

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

The Wroth of the Steam Cleaner!

Originally, this was going to be in the same post as my previous one, so I could have the title "Flea the Wroth of the Steam Cleaner", which I loved, but alas, my verbose style of writing did not allow for a manageable post length , so I had to split it up.

We've had a hard time housetraining Monty. We get to a point where we are SO close, and he decides he needs to relieve himself inside again.... I've been doing my best to keep the carpet clean despite this, but we don't always catch him, or see it, so it sometimes sits until it turns... colors.

I still thought it was ok, because I would scrub it with fabric soap, then rinse it really well. I really thought I was doing alright, even of it wasn't perfect. I would borrow my parents' carpet cleaner when we finally got Monty completely housetrained and it would be pretty again.

Then we came home from Church on Sunday and there were... Odors.

I immediately fell into a state of CHAOS (Cant Have Anyone- not even myself- Over Syndrome) and decided I had to get rid of it. Now!

After much deliberation with myself, and checking my wallet... I decided I had to use stuff we already had in the house. I was rolling up my sleeves, preparing to grab a bucket- and every towel in the house- when I remembered- the steamer!

We bought it to pull the wallpaper of the walls, and it more than paid for itself by doing that, but I am of the school of 'use it 'til it dies!', so I've been finding uses for it since we've had it (One of my favorites is breaking up that nasty grease that builds up on the oven hood.), so I decided to try it on the carpet.

I pulled it out and put it together. I managed to find my floor extensions and tool. When it was ready, I got up and started scrubbing. Since I've never used both extensions, I was unsure how they would work. This was how it went.

Pass one- "Well, that seemed to be ok. I hope it really was"

Pass two- "Yeah... that was alright."

Pass three- "Ok, this will definitely wor-" CRACK!

Apparently, you're not really supposed to scrub when you're standing up. One of the extensions broke right at the seam where they met. Oh well... I went back on my hands and knees.

The rest of the cleaning went fairly well. I methodically ran the tool over the rug and would stop and scrub whenever there was a 'spot' until it was not noticeable anymore. There were a lot of invisible 'spots', one of them was even laundry detergent I missed rinsing once, and a few sections of... Pine sol of all things. But no matter. Nothing could escape the wroth of me and my mighty steam cleaner! "One last square foot and the entire carpet will be clean! Mwahahaha..... Wait! You can't run out of steam now! I'm almost done!"

"Sssssssssssss...........          "

So, I had to wait for it to cool down... And refill it... And wait for it to heat up again. I went into the living room to wait.

There were, not one, not two, but THREE new spots in the living area. I was too furious for words. I must have grown to three times my size, because Monty took one look at me and ran- without even looking back- to the bedroom and under the bed, where he sat in the most defensive mood I'd ever seen him in.

Did I care? Oh no! He was going outside. It would happen. "Snap at me if I so much as look at you under there? Guess what? The mattress is movable! HA! Now there's nowhere to hide, Monster!"

After much more posturing and chasing and ridiculous antics on both of our parts, I managed to get him into my arms and out the door. I now realize that last time I vacuumed, he had gotten almost run over by it, and the steamer had several of the same qualities as a vacuum. Marking territory to make a statement is not cool, but at least I have a reason behind it now, and someone's not allowed to chase the vacuum anymore- lest it happen again.

I managed to get the rest of the house steamed over and cleaned up and the difference in the look, feel and smell of the carpet has been amazing. Monty still has his 'spots' but they're no longer in the same places- which means the scent was destroyed to a point that even he cannot smell it anymore. And now I have a low-cost, low- work, low- time clean up routine for when they do happen.

Definitely worthy of a burn here, a little waiting there, or some rather offensive... 'odors' for a few minutes. Facing the wroth of the steam cleaner is beyond worth the fuss it takes.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Flea Before Me!

The dogs have been scratching.

A lot.

A lot a lot.

I've been checking them every day for the past month for any sign of fleas, and never being able to find any, passed it off as summer skin and mosquito bites.

Then I found it.

While Monty was on his back and I was searching, I found a single brown insect of the blood sucking, jumping variety.

This took me from 'objective, defensive' mode to, 'freaking out, calling husband moaning and totally over the top' mode.

I washed every scrap of fabric in the house. I put more flea killer on Charlie, I grabbed the cat and combed her until we were probably both as scratched up as the other. I inspected every corner of the house wearing white socks, scuffing along the floor, watching for tell tale signs of 'fleadom'. I vacuumed, moved furniture, vacuumed again, move it back and vacuumed again. Twice.

When Zach got home, I didn't stop. I pulled the baggie of supplies he brought home from his hands, put the flea collar on Monty, and insisted on using the new, unchewed comb on every animal- after I sprayed all the clean bedding with flea killer.

I probably went overboard, as I continued my rampage into the next week. Despite only finding one other flea on Monty the night before, and no other signs of them whatsoever, I vacuumed every day, twice a day, and combed all the animals as often as I could get my hands on them.

Before long, I grew tired of constantly checking, cleaning and combing, and the animals of me poking, prodding, and detaining them from activity. We all had a big fight, then went to our respective corners to lick our wounds.

So I realized I was probably making too much of a fuss over it, as I often do, and settled down to a new chore... Of which I will write about tomorrow... Maybe. I still check them about once a day, and they're happy with that. No signs yet, but if ever there are, I'll be ready!

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Take me out to the Ballgame!

Yesterday we went to Nat's stadium for the game. As my father holds season tickets, it's not unusual for us to visit the park and enjoy a game. Yesterday was special, though. It was my parents' 29th wedding anniversary. To celebrate, Dad upgraded all his seats and bought several extra at the 'Red Porch'. The center field restaurant/section. Seven of us all lined up in a row to enjoy the game.

The view was awesome. We could see every play, every pitch and actually follow the ball. I always used to wonder how the players managed to catch or hit the balls at all. Now I know that it's really not quite so impossible as it seems. I'll still never be able to play, but now I know that baseball players aren't the most superhuman sportsmen ever.

It was a beautiful day. Sun in the sky, very few clouds, low humidity (for the area), and 95 degrees.

Make that at least a hundred in the sun.

The problem with the incredible seats we had was simply the fact that there was nowhere to hide in the shade and still see the game. By the time the eight inning rolled around, I was so beyond thirsty I wasn't anymore. Fortunately, the employees who waited on us hand and foot, bringing food we were supposed to be buying, traded most of the food orders for running about with complementary water and ice cups. Despite the stand workers' attempts at keeping us cool and my drinking more than usual even after we got home, it's taken me nearly the whole day to get rehydrated.

It was definitely worth it. A day with family is more important than a few hours of discomfort, but I hope next time they have us visit and help clean out the basement again or something. Dripping sweat is much more comfortable and less draining when you are moving, and OUT of the sun.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

He's a killer!

We are thankful for our little protector. Seventeen pounds of pure evil wrapped up in a cute orange package. That nasty fledgling robin that intruded on our property had no chance.

We found him in the backyard tormenting the thing, probably because it squeaked. It was too late to save it by the time we discovered them, but we made him stop carrying it around and made it as comfortable as we could. I must admit, there were a few tears. Listening to Mom and Dad calling for their baby and knowing nothing was going to help was more than a little heartbreaking.

While Zach buried the poor thing, I decided to continue the killing spree and destroy some of the ants that have been plaguing our pathway. Off in the yard, they're fine, but don't intrude on things for humans!

Then it dawned on me... Now every one of us is a killer. Except Charlie. Misty is a fine huntress, when we let her out at least. And Zach and I have destroyed more than a few pests in our time. I think Charlie's the only innocent among us. Poor thing doesn't know what a group of viscous murderers he has for company.

So anyway, Monty is no longer allowed outside without a chaperone, who grunts and groans and moans as he hefts his pure, clean self off the sofa into the heat, and we know that a kitten in the future is most probably not the best idea. We weren't thinking about it, but if ever we decide we want one...

I leave you with a Loony Tune. You can watch the whole thing, or you can skip to the last fifteen seconds to see our reaction to Monty when we first discovered his evil deed.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Sandy Cove

Those of you who are friends with me on facebook might have noticed I wasn't really around much last week. Every year since I was eight, my family and I have gone to a homeschool conference at Sandy Cove Ministries. Over the years, we've made many, many friends and have come to love the place almost like a second home. After sixteen years of being there, I've never figured out how to be on a computer and enjoy the amenities.

But I wasn't off facebook for that reason. I was avoiding because many of my friends didn't seem to have a problem doing both! You see, this year is the first year that we weren't able to go. I knew our decision to stay home was right, but I still couldn't help but feel sad whenever someone was talking about the good food, the dynamic lessons, the fun atmosphere, the amazing worship times. I didn't begrudge them their vacation. I know it's difficult to contain the pure joy that exudes from every pore of that place, but I was sad that I was stuck at home while they posted about it on facebook, so I avoided it.

It was childish and mopey of me and I made no points to try to justify my actions. I knew I was pouting and told just about everyone who asked that I was doing so. Everyone who knew basically did the "Aww, poor baby," pat the head stuff you do to a five year old who's dropped his ice cream in the dirt, which is probably more than I deserved.

Thursday night is a special banquet Sandy Cove runs just for adults. Zach and I discussed going, but the price of the dinner was more than we really thought worth it. To stay the week, it is beyond a fair price, and Sandy Cove often loses money, especially during the homeschool week, but the price for just the dinner was too high for our meager budget when we already had a couple things planned out for the week since we couldn't attend.

Dad came down on Wednesday to take us to a ball game after spending the day up there and said "We're working on getting you two tickets to the banquet. Would you still like to go?" Any trace of pride in taking charity was long since wiped from us when we moved in with my grandparents rent free last September. We didn't mind stowing away to spend a night with people we didn't think we were going to see at all.

We had a miraculous time. The food was wonderful, the view dazzling, and the people better still. The tenor of the night seemed to be, "It's so good to see you here. Next year make sure your dad comes all week." We know we rode in on his coattails, but we had such a good time we didn't mind.

We spent the evening eating, enjoying the water and sunset, and finished up our evening at The Galley, I mean, The Tenth Hole- a little snack shack that makes the best milkshakes. It wasn't a full week, but it was certainly a thrilling experience to be able to go at all. There is something special about that place. I hope you all have your own place like that.

What a difference a year makes

Last Friday, a year ago, I said goodbye to one of my best friends. She was beautiful, fun, feisty and always up for adventure. You knew something was up when you saw a streak of tabby running either towards the dog or away from him.

Did I not mention that she was my cat? Her name was Bright Eyes.

While no one ever wants to say goodbye to a beloved pet, after thinking about it, she really enjoyed the last few years of her life. Running about bossing Charlie around. Being the queen and knowing it really did have her at her finest. In the year since we parted ways, a lot has happened. 

We got Misty. When we got home from vacation, we noticed Charlie was depressed. He was unhappy unless we were both home. Always looking for her under the bed, waiting by the door, looking in 'the cat room'. We knew he needed a companion and even though we weren't entirely ready for a new cat, we took the plunge and went to the shelter. Misty's personality was so bold and in your face, we knew we had to scoop her up before someone else took her. She's been a fabulous edition to the family and we couldn't ask for a better kitty companion to Charlie.

We moved in August- with only a week's notice. While packing up the apartment, I realized that she would have hated the fact that I would keep moving her stuff around. Trying to console Charlie was bad enough. Telling my poor feline that we were once again leaving for a new home would probably have upset her more than just a little.

We lived with my grandparents for three months. They own four little dogs. Bright Eyes despised little dogs. They got into all her tiny hidey holes and made life miserable. Even our much younger, much more laid back Misty had a hard time with them, but she managed to keep them in line just enough.

We bought our first home. While we're certain she would have loved it, with all it's great big, bird watching windows, and the comfy furniture and new places to explore, Bright Eyes hated chaos. A move in three month's time would have been a boon and a curse. With all the wallpaper peeling, painting, and boxes moving in and out and in and out, she probably would have been happier with my grandparent's and their tiny terrors for the first two months!

January was pretty much an utter disaster of a month. I think we'll just skip it.

Finally, we got Monty. When we moved away from my grandparents' Misty was happy. Charlie was not. He had grown used to having little companions to be with him all the time and whenever I left on a weekday (leaving without Zach was a clue that something was 'up'), he would exhibit serious separation anxiety. We did all the normal things we could to try to get him to understand that everything was ok, and that I was always going to come back, but after filling out the *mumble mutter* job application and coming home to find drool all over the floor of the front door, new claw marks, and a panting dog that could not stop for forty five minutes after I got home- in sixty degree weather, we finally decided that a new dog was really what he needed. So we went to the local shelter and picked up our fuzzball. Now I have a happy dog at the door and an excited one in his kennel when I come home from a foray into the field for whatever I need to do.

I still miss her. I still love her. You never forget your first pet, and she was mine. but something I know is that no matter what happens, there's always a reason. We don't always know it, and we don't have to like it, but it is there. Remember what happened, but don't dwell on it. Love the memories, don't hate how they are over.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Cheese Soup

I have a lovely friend who lives in the UK. She recently told me of her visit to the US several years ago and her experience with a food called 'cheese soup'. She told me it was nasty, gloppy, cold, and all around awful. While her description does make it sound pretty terrible, I was distressed because I MAKE cheese soup and know it can be wonderful. Last night, I made it, so I decided to dedicate this blog post to the process and prove that, while it can be done wrong and nasty, cheese soup is really something to enjoy and appreciate.

First thing's first. We need a quart of chicken stock. I'll keep the icky details out of it, but making your own means it will taste like chicken and not salt. If you don't have time to make your own, store bought will do. 

Now to the mise en place- all these lovely ingredients will turn into lovelier soup within an hour-

Melt the butter in the pan, then add all the vegetables and cook for eight to ten minutes.

Then add the flour and cook for a few more minutes. Add the garlic...

And the chicken stock and bay leaf....

And bring to a boil.
Cover and cook until veggies are soft.

Remove bay leaf and add cream. If you have an immersion blender, use it to chop the carrots, onion and celery up into a puree. I do not own an immersion blender, so I used my regular blender to pulverize said veggies.

Return to the pot and heat thoroughly. Then take your ten ounces of shredded cheeeeeeeeeeze (We used Havarti, but any good melting cheese will do. DON'T use cheddar unless you want a slick of oil on top or mozzarella unless you want tiny balls of cheese instead of smooth meltiness.) and add it very slowly to your soup. It will take some time, but don't rush it unless you just want a ball of cheese at the bottom of your pan.

Now all you need to do is add your Worcestershire and hot sauce- as little or as much as you like. It makes pretty patterns.

 Then eat it straight out of the pot! Or maybe get a bowl... We love it with crusty bread.

Bon appetit!

Recipe-

• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 cup small diced onion 
• 1 cup small diced carrot
• 1 cup small diced celery
• 1/2 teaspoon salt for sweating vegetables, plus more if needed at end of cooking
• 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
• 1 quart chicken broth, heated to a simmer
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 10 ounces Fontina, shredded
• 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1/2 teaspoon hot sauce

Directions

Melt butter in large heavy-bottomed soup pot over medium heat. Add onion, carrot, celery, and salt. Sweat for 5 to 10 minutes or until the vegetables begin to soften, stirring occasionally. Sift the flour over the vegetables and cook, stirring constantly, for 2 to 3 minutes.

Gradually add the chicken stock and bring to boil, stirring constantly. Reduce heat to low and add the bay leaf. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes or until vegetables are soft.

Remove bay leaf. Turn off the heat, add the heavy cream, and then puree. Gradually add the cheese, 1 small handful at a time, and stir until melted before adding next handful. Stir in the Worcestershire, hot sauce, and white pepper. Taste and add additional salt if desired. If soup is not hot enough, return to a low heat until warmed through.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Father's Day.

I was a terrible daughter and posted nothing for Mother's Day, but I am sitting here an hour before Father's Day and thinking about a few things.

A department store came out around Mother's Day with an add that I vehemently disagreed with. In my opinion, it was callus and, while I understood what they meant, I thought it belittled what the day was about. I was very surprised when they came out with a new add for Father's Day along the same lines.

The Mother's Day add stated, "Mother's Day is not for celebrating mothers. It is to celebrate everything mothers do for us." The Father's Day add starts the same way, but the second half of the sentence clarifies differently, "...it is for celebrating everything our fathers are." This phrasing is not quite as offensive, but I do not see the logic in either add. The advertisements point back and specify things or characters, not at the man or woman who did all those things or played those roles.

Yes, I love that Mom kissed my boo boos and Dad played King in the castle. I love everything they've done for me, but that's not all they are. And it's most certainly not all I should be celebrating. They were people long before I came into the world and they are still their own people now. Celebrating Mother's and Father's day isn't just about rejoicing in the things parents do for their children. It is also about trying to understand them as people. To know that they are much more than I could ever know, because I wasn't always there.

To objectify our parents, like the adds, is incredibly easy to do. To look at them as a list of things they've done or should have done. To love and appreciate them for those things, or to despise them for the same reasons is something that's practically ingrained in us. We've known them our whole lives. For a time, they were ALL we knew. During 'Parent' days, I think it is incredibly important for us to step back and appreciate them for everything they do and everything they are, but not the way the commercials state. We need to remember to simply be thankful for them.

The Parent...

The Person.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

I hate you

Every week they pull you out.

You're big and red, with lights, bumpers and way too much noise.

I hate you.

You run around the house and I follow. I try to bite you. To grab onto you and destroy you.

You don't seem to mind and continue to drag Mommy around the house as you plunder on your merry way.

I hate you.

You pick up all the hair Charlie, Misty and I work so hard to decorate with.

You mix it with dirt until it's unrecognizable, unusable, and has to be thrown out.

I hate you.

Daddy comes home and tells Mommy she did such a good job today.

I'm sure he knows as well as I that it's not easy to stay alive while being dragged around by you.

I hate you.

Then you stand guard outside my favorite room.

Keeping me from playing with the lovely toys in it.

I hate you.

One day, I shall destroy you. I'm sure that under those gray eyes of yours is something soft and tender. 

Something I can destroy you with.

I'll get you.

My Arch Nemesis.

The one they call 'The Vacuum'.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

I love...

That yummy feeling when you turn on the AC for the first time in the summer.

.20 ears of corn in the grocery store.

Grilling said corn on gas burners.

Going outside for a few hours to come back in to a cool, cool house.

It being warm enough to go swimming.

It being sunny enough to go swimming.

How incredible water just from an hour in the freezer tastes.

How hiding in he house is now considered safe, not introverted.

Warm tomatoes fresh from the vine.

Summer family blockbusters.....

Yep. Summer is pretty awesome.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Oh the weather outside is...

Well, that depends on who you ask.

Up until last week, most of the people in the area were complaining about how cold and rainy it is. How much they want summer to start. How miserable they are because there hasn't been any sun. In watching this several week long interchange with fellow residents of Maryland, I discover how spoiled we really are.

The weather had been above fifty and usually sixty degrees. It would rain once or twice a week and there would nearly always be sunshine sometime during the day. Last year in northern New York, we had still been struggling with snow and I once counted 123 days without a bit of sunshine.

I still remember fighting with the animals for the little patches of sunlight. Of shivering and refusing to turn on the heat because, "It's June!" I remember the times I stayed in bed with sinus infections and headaches because yet another storm was coming in and think, "How can anyone complain about this weather? It's beautiful!" Of course, I do not say this to their shivering, dampened faces, but I do think it

It turned warm this week. Very warm. While not quite hot yet, Zach and I are still used to Northern New York summers, where there is only one week where you want to melt, and are now fighting with ourselves whether or not to turn on the AC or stick it out for a while because, "It's not even June!" and I noticed a few people talking about how hot it is and how they want fall to hurry up and get here.

Oh how quickly perspectives change....

And how often in life must I remember that. Especially when the topic of conversation is something less trivial than the weather.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Short is Funny!

I want people to laugh when they read my work.

But Shakespeare once wrote "brevity is the soul of wit."

Since he is famous and I am not, I can only assume he is correct.

Therefore I have worked hard to construct this. My funniest blog post ever.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Pet Parent Ponderings

I am not a parent. While I love children and have worked with them since I was a child, Zach and I have decided that we're not ready to be parents. While we know we'll never really be "ready" to be parents, and we're not going to be brokenhearted if I do get pregnant, we're not trying to have kids right now either.

But we do have animals. While being a pet parent is not the same as having a child of your own, I have realized- especially with Monty- that pet parenting does have many similarities to having children and it might even help me know what it will be like to have children, in a small manner at least.

Here are my five favorite parenting training techniques that my animals are determined to teach me before I have children.

1. Time-

With Charlie and Misty, I spent about three hours a day caring for the animals. When we got Monty, I discovered that he needs at least six hours a day all to himself. Between keeping him brushed, making sure what he's chewing on is acceptable, potty training, and general time keeping him out of trouble, I have had very little time to myself lately. Not as much as an infant, of course, but more than I thought I was going to have to give.

2. Space- 

Personal space in particular. I used to be able to go to the bathroom alone. To go outside by myself. To open the windows or clean the kitchen without tripping over someone. Now, no matter where I'm going or what I'm doing, he HAS to be there. There have been times he's fallen into the bathtub, he's tripped me on a wet floor, he's sat on top of my kitchen table to be closer to me. I have no privacy anymore!

3. Cleaning- 

I like my house to be clean. I'm not a super neat freak, but things I used to do often, I am having a hard time doing anymore- mostly for the two reasons above. Here's a short list of chores comparing them to how I used to clean, and how I clean now.

Countertops- Every time they're used- When I can't make a sandwich on them they're so icky

Dishes- 3-4 times a day- 3-4 times a week

Vacuuming- about every day- once a week... Maybe

Sweeping- once a week (except when we had ant problems)- once a month

Windows- Once a week- Windows?

Dusting- Dust?- Cough cough. A little foggy in here, isn't it? Oh...

4. Sibling rivalry- 

Monty! Leave Charlie alone while he's chewing on that!

Charlie, if you don't eat your breakfast, Monty will.

Three minutes later- "Arrooroff!"

Told you!

Misty, if you rub all over Monty he's going to think you like him. Stop smacking him around when he gets excited. He only thinks you're playing.

Monty, you're never going to endear yourself to Misty's heart if you keep squeaking at her.

Here, these rawhides are exactly the same as each other. Now stop fighting over the same one.

NO ROUGHHOUSING ON THE SOFA!

NO ROUGHHOUSING ON THE BED!

NO ROUGHHOUSING ON MY LAP!

ENOUGH!! EVERYONE, go to your own beds and leave each other alone!

5. Love- 

The other day, instead of sitting on the sofa, I decided I wanted to lie down. Monty was managing to take up two thirds of the sofa all by his little self, so I had to move him. Ninety nine times out of a hundred, I don't move my animals and am known for sitting on the floor rather than making a pet move, but today, I decided I was going to move him, so I psyched myself up and shifted him around to lie behind him. Instead of getting annoyed and getting up, he rolled onto his back and looked at me like he was saying, "Oh good. You're here. Now I can snuggle and love you and you can pet me."

I was stunned by the amount of affection I felt for him. He's a pain in the butt, takes up far too much time, and makes sure my house stays pretty much a total disaster. And yet, I knew at that point that I loved him despite all this. This little, orange ball of fluff is one of the most important things in the world, and I am an enormous part of his world. He relies on me totally, trusts me implicitly, and loves me unconditionally. It nearly broke my heart just sitting there looking at him and knowing how much I mean to him. This happens quite often with all my animals and I am always surprised how strongly I feel.

I also know that when I have a child of my own, this love I feel for may animals will be like a molehill next to a mountain. It will be heartbreaking and wonderful to an extreme I have never known before. No, I am definitely not ready to be a parent.

I don't think I ever will be.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

I'm A Believer!

I've never been a superstitious person. I pick up pennies on the street, no matter which side is facing up. I love black cats, If going around the ladder is difficult... Well, I probably still would go around it. They're not the most trustworthy things in the world. So I've never been afraid of Friday the Thirteenth. This Friday was going to come and go with the minor hiccups that every day possesses in this household.

I got up in the morning, woke up the dogs, and the three of us trotted to the door to go out. Monty, who is almost/very nearly/just about/this close to being completely potty trained, stood at the top of the bar room, raised his little leg, and started emptying his bladder. This was no "Oh boy, Oh boy! I get to go out now!" excited dribbling, as often happens in the morning. This was much more, "I'm going to the bathroom here and you can't stop me!"

I snapped at him and he stopped. We continued with our day and not an hour after breakfast, the little monster does it again! I cleaned up both times and shook my head in chagrin.... He was getting much better... Now it seems that there's some backtracking going on... Oh well.

I got onto my blog to post about something, and received a message, "Blogger is temporarily unavailable." I'm not sure how long it was down for maintenance, but I supposed it was ok, as I wanted to talk about something that wasn't actually reflected accurately yesterday anyway (No, it wasn't about Monty's training). Oh well...

Zach came home is a not so great mood. Life isn't always easy. Oh well......

I burnt my leg rather badly cooking supper.  Don't ask how I burnt it while pouring soup from a pot into the blender... I'm not sure how I did it either... Oh well...

While Zach and I were in varying parts of the house, our younger, smarter, more agile animal decides he wants to open the screen door to let himself out. In doing so, he let Misty out.

A thorough(ish in the dark) investigation of our backyard, asking our neighbors if they noticed her, and the backyard of the home opposite us, I give up.

Ok, FINE! I scream to the cosmos. I believe in Friday the Thirteenth and its bad luck! I BELIEVE, ok! Now give me back my cat!

An hour later, she prances back into the house. Happy as you please, and throws up a massive hairball with the grass she probably left to get in the first place. Lovely.

We went to bed and I couldn't manage to get warm all night.

Am I superstitious now? No, not really. Am I ever going to look at Friday the thirteenth the same again? I don't think so. It wasn't a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, but it wasn't as nice as most days are either.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

That's the Mongrel Med-eeeee- leeeeeeey!

This magic moment.
So different and so few.
Was like any other.
Until I handed the rawhide to you.


And then it happened.
It took me by surprise.
I knew you'd leave Charlie alone.
By the look in your eyes.


You with a rawhide.
Charlie on your other side.
Everything you both wanted you had.
For once we would have a still night.


This magic moment.
While you're chewing side by side.
Won't last forever.
Enjoy this beautiful time.


Magic
Woah Woah
Magic
Woah Woah
Magic
Woaaaah


Monty the pound puppy
Lives in our home.
And frolics around everyone,
Unless he has a bone.
Charlie the old basset
Loves that rascal pup.
And lets him do most anything.
Just to shut him up!


Oh! Monty the pound puppy
Lives in our home.
And frolics around everyone
Unless he has a bone!
Monty the pound puppy
Lives in our home.
And frolics around everyone
Unless he has a bone.


Together they love playing
And tales we do regale,
How Monty keeps the spirit up
By biting Charlie's tail!
The backyard is a playground
Where everything's a toy.
And Charlie, though confusedly,
Still guards his little boy!


Oh! Monty the pound puppy
Lives in our home
And frolics around everyone
Unless he has a bone!
Monty the pound puppy
Lives in our home.
And frolics around everyone
Unless he has a bone.


I want to play with MyCharLie
I want to play right now.
I want to play with MyCHARLie
Why won't he come and play with me?


You ain't nothin' but a toy dog
Squeakin' all the time.
You ain't nothin but a toy dog.
Squeakin' all the time.
You ain't never gonna get me.
I'm sleeping you out this time!


Weeeeeeeeell,


You know you make me wanna
SQUEEK!
Kick my paws up
SQUEAK!
Throw my head back
SQUEAK!
dart around you!
SQUEEK!
Tug your ears up!
SQUEAK!


Climb down, Pussy cat!
Woaaaah!
Climb down, Pussy cat!
Woaaaah, woah!


Pussy cat, Pussy cat
I've got chewies and lots of new things to share with you.
So come off that uncomfortable bar.


Pussy cat, Pussy cat,
I love you!
Yes, I do!
Can't we at least be friends?
Well, acquaintances?
Distant relatives?
I'll still admire you.


This is dedicated to the dogs I love.
This is dedicated to the dogs I love.
Dedicated to the dogs I love!




God bless and see you soon,


Joelle

The Sweetest Place on Earth

Last Sunday, I had the pleasure of going to Hersheypark with my family and their church's youth group. It's quite funny, because I wasn't supposed to go at all. Zach and I had other plans. But plans change, as they are liable to do and Saturday evening, I found myself with plans for nothing, alone on Sunday afternoon. Zach didn't want me to resent him for making me be home alone when I could have gone to Hersheypark, so he snuck behind my back and got ahold of my parents to ask if it was to late to buy a ticket. We managed to get me a ticket and a way to get to the caravan up.

When we got there, we split into groups. John and I were the ones that didn't fit in any groups, so I grabbed his arm and said, "You'll be my escort today." He straightened himself up, crooked his arm and looked down his nose at me. "Yes," he said, "I shall be."

I spent the whole day with my younger sibling. Among the myriad of rides we took were six of the eleven roller coasters. From the Sooperdooperlooper, the East Coast's first ever inverted roller coaster, to the hydraulically launched instant 72 mph Storm Runner- we rode the last car of each. We discovered that the front of a coaster is awesome- but if you really want scared out of your wits (and your fillings rattled out of your teeth), ride the back!

We probably should have had someone with more sense go with us because we ended up walking the length of the park several times, "Oh, Let's ride this one! Ooh! Let's do that one! Hey, This one is right where we were last time... Let's go do it anyway!" but we enjoyed our time together, just little brother and big sister, immensely. Plus, he bought my lunch.

Whether or not you like the chocolate, if you're on the East Coast US, I recommend the park. It does not have the glamor about it that Disneyworld does, but there is something much more welcoming and open about it. Milton Hershey started the park as a picnic area for his factory workers. Since then, it has been opened up, built up, and expanded out, but it still manages to maintain a familial feeling most parks leave in the dust long before hitting the "theme park" name. When you go, there will be very little trash, you will see more children and fewer groups of teenagers, there will not be sexual or racial slurs written in the wood or on the queue for even the wildest rides and the ride operators are smiling and happy. No matter what your age or background, it's a wonderful place to spend a day; and we all need that every once in a while.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

P.S. If you DO like their candy, they often try out their new stuff at the park first. There are some things, like fire (cinnamon) Twizzlers, you can only get at the park. It is a lot of fun to see their new stuff whenever you go.

I have a confession to make

If you aren't seated you might want to be. You sitting down? On something with a back? This is going to be a big shock to many of you. You ready? Here goes...

I can't read.

You read that right. I am incapable of picking up a book and deciphering symbols into words in the English Language.

I've tried, Lord knows I have tried. I've spent almost six months painstakingly working my way through a single book. Whenever I open it I am very quickly forced to abandon my efforts due to the words jumping sporadically, or perhaps they become blurry in with gray, red or tri-color.

I have the same problems when I use a computer. It's not as often, but it happens enough that I feel uncomfortable trying to process a lot of information from it.

Maybe I should just close the door and make the animals stay in a separate room when I have a book in my hands. Or perhaps read standing up. Or I might just use recorded books.

One way or another, Charlie, Monty and Misty are not going to stop me from finishing the Wheel of Time book I am working on.

But they have hindered my speed a bit.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

What I like about Maryland

I have lived in Maryland most of my life and have come to appreciate a lot about it. While every other state and country have their points of interest and their own wonderful curiosities, I must admit I have grown quite fond of this state I call home for many reasons.

First and foremost- the bay. The Chesapeake Bay is the United States' largest estuary. It's home to more critters than I can count and is an incredible ecosystem. Of course, with everything water- it's quite difficult to keep clean and we are constantly working on preserving it as one of the nation's most incredible natural resources.

The diversity of land. If you want to live on the water- there are three different types of it to chose from. Fresh- from rivers and lakes, brackish- from the bay, and salt- on the ocean. While Delaware takes up most of the ocean side of the outer peninsula, Maryland does still retain some of the lower portion. Water not your thing? That's alright. You can make your home in the mountains in the western part of the state. There are cities, suburbs, and country you can chose from to make your home. And- while you can chose to live in an area that seems remote- no matter where you live, you are never far from a city somewhere. Just like- if you live in hustle and bustle- there is always a quiet patch of land that you wouldn't believe is so close to where you are. It's almost magical living in a state where traveling to the outermost reaches and back in a single day is possible.

The diversity of people. The United States is home to people of every color, size, shape, and creed. Perhaps because if its proximity to the nation's capital, Maryland is filed with different people. I love walking into a store and seeing people of every walk of life there. There is something miraculous about everyone being different, and yet knowing we're all the same. Oh yes, we think differently, we believe differently, and we behave differently, but we all think, we all feel, we all believe something. All different, all the same. Incredible.

The history. Maryland is located very close to the center of the original thirteen colonies. It is close to Philadelphia, Richmond, and literally encompasses most of Washington DC. The history of the entire country can be found in places nearby, and often near- or even on- sites where the actual events occurred. DC also has the main foundation of the Smithsonian Institution. The museums take you out of the area. Out of the nation. Out of this world. You can learn a lot just walking many of the state parks or going to the historical cities in and surrounding the state, but the fact that within a few hours you can reach out and learn about things far beyond any borders is amazing to me.

Of course, another reason that is very close to my heart is that my parents live in Maryland. I have always been close to my family and we spend a lot of time together. When we moved back down here from Northern New York, I would joke with my parents that we had seen them more in the first two weeks than we had in the last two years. It's great to be able to visit family on a whim. To not have to plan three or four days ahead of time, and to know that the road home is short and easy is one of the biggest blessings Maryland has to offer to me.

We all have sentimental thoughts about where we live, or where we come from. Every reason is truly the most important reason for the individual. While I may not understand why you love the place you live so much, I understand that you do. I'd never try to tell someone, "Oh, this place is so much worse and you shouldn't like it." But I most certainly know that Maryland is the best place ever!

For me, that is.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle

Imaginary Inventings of Incredible Items

It has come to my attention that there are some rather strange objects in the world. While I'm sure there is an actual history to most of them (ok, to all of them) some real stories are painfully boring, while others are unknown to me. For this reason (and just because I wanted to), I present to you the reasons some of these items exist.

**The stories you are about to read are false. The time periods and historical facts are also false. Any similarity to actual people, places, events, and historical relevancy and context is purely coincidental, and probably accidental as well.**

The Necktie-

Simon Garfunkel was an ordinary seventeenth century tailor with an ordinary problem. He was a slob when he ate. Of course, utensils in the sixteen hundreds were still few and far between, so those who didn't have them had to work their way around by eating with their fingers. Simon never got the hang of eating with either and would constantly be soiling his shirts. For this reason, not only did he always tuck a napkin into his collar before sitting down to a meal, he would often bring an extra shirt while attending parties or other social events.

One day, after enjoying a particularly fine meal at the inn (a rare treat), Simon received an invitation to a party from the girl he had been courting. Unfortunately, the invitation was late- as the girl's father did not like Simon, and told the man delivering the invitations to be sure not to give him the invitation until he had only just enough time to get to the house- thinking that this would stop him attending. Simon got up in a great rush- and discovered he had forgotten to tuck his napkin into his collar! His poor shirt was terribly stained in the center- some dribbles heading towards his naval! He immediately started to the nearest powder room to change his shirt- when he remembered he had loaned out his extra shirt to his best friend.

Being a resourceful man, he swiftly snatched a few napkins from the table and cut and sewed them into a long, thin strip while walking to the party. This he wrapped around his neck and tied strategically so as to hide the stains on his shirt. Simon's new fashion startled many people, but he was such the talk of the party that at the next one, many of the young men in the area asked for him to also make them a "Tie around the neck" as well.

And so the necktie has been worn to fancy parties and considered a fashion icon ever since. To the chagrin of men who like to breathe everywhere.

The Flip Flop

"ARCHY!"

The sound of his mother made the young Roman jump up and run to the door.

"Yes, Mother?"

His mother held up what appeared to be a large tangle of leather with a look that said it all. She said it anyway.

"I've told you a thousand times. If you're going to go play in the streets, you MUST wear your sandals. There are things in the streets that are not safe to step in. If you can't war your shoes, you'll have to go into the courtyard. If I have to tell you one more time, I will tie them to you myself. And then I will ask Jupiter to ensure they will NOT come off your feet again."

Archy sighed. He knew it was no use arguing with her. Even though he had prepared charts comparing time saved by not wearing the sandals and the comfort and ease of movement without them versus the safety of the accursed things when faced with common problems in the streets- such as a horse and cart. He had spent hours writing it out. When he showed it to her, she sniffed, said, "If you spent half as much time studying as you do trying to keep your shoes off your feet, you'd be smarter than your tutors," and swiftly swept the courtyard- erasing all his hard work.

So, he ruefully took the sandals and started untangling them so he could weave them halfway up his leg. His friends came over and laughed as he fought with the lacing. None of THEM had to wear shoes. Only soft people- like girls and grown ups- wanted to or were made to wear them. Archy threw a knotted bundle at them and told them to stop cackling like women turning grain and help. They obliged, but a wayward giggle was still wont to slip from a mouth every once in a while.

That night, as always, Archie prayed to the gods for safety, security, and all the other things good little Roman boys were supposed to pray for. He then prayed- as he always did- for one of the gods to come down and show his mother what was what and that sandals were really just torture devices- especially when you got a rock in them. Tonight, however, he tacked on an extra thought as he drifted off to sleep, "Hey gods? If you can't make my mother understand, could you at LEAST show me a different way to get out of wearing them?" 

He never did say what he dreamed that night, but when he got up in the morning, he found one of the old chairs that no one used anymore, broke off the legs and tore it in half. He worked in secret well, as secret as anyone could be when your mother is hanging over your back and your friends are constantly pounding on the doorposts. After a week of shaping, and looking, and perfecting, and practicing, he emerged with the wood attached to his feet by slim thongs of leather running across them and between his toes.

His mom was not convinced, but when he showed her that they were, in fact, safer- by virtue of the wood instead of leather bottoms- she reluctantly agreed to allow him to wear them outside. He ran out to his friends, the wooden soles flipping and flopping behind him, but staying on and beneath his feet.

Thus, the flip flop was born.

From the Mouths of Cats

I've been stuck on this bar for the past two weeks.

Here I am, running the household, making sure I get love, food, brushed, and Charlie obeys my every whim, when suddenly they bring in this twenty pound orange fluffball that runs faster, jumps higher and barks more than two Charlies.

Bah.

I hate this dog.

Whenever I move, I'm chased and barked, well squeaked, at.

Yeah, I still have food, water and other basic amenities, and the people still come and cowtow to me when they get the chance, but it's not the same. I want to be queen again.

I keep getting told to smack him once really good and he'll leave me alone, but he's not that much bigger than I am. I don't want to hurt him by using my claws!

I'm sick of this. Next time they're let out I'll sneak over and sit on the lady person's lap.

Ahhh... This is niiiiice. Being loved. And not on that hard bar with no company. I could get used to this agai- Hey, where are you going? No! Don't let them in again!

Grrr. Why'd you do that? I don't want to go back. You know what? I'm not going to. I'll show him.

LEAVE ME ALONE!

Stop squeaking and just go sleep somewhere.

*glare*

Wait.... 

It worked? 

I can stay here without the threat of being eaten?

This just might work out..... For today anyway.

Running the race- Twice

I used to help Dad coach teams for certain events. Racing was a part of them and he would constantly be telling the kids "Don't look at the people behind you! Keep looking forward! You already ran that part. You run the race twice by turning around!" Of course, most kids didn't understand what he meant, or how it could slow them down that much, but they DID try to keep their eyes focused in front. To avoid the good natured ribbing of my father if nothing else.

Monty could learn a thing or two from these "kids" (although many of them are adults now). Or perhaps they could learn more from him than words could ever tell. When he runs- while playing, or while trying to escape his kennel, or while trying to avoid us getting the chocolate bar, library book or other contraband item- he turns his head completely around and watches us, instead of where he is going. This causes him to run into every chair, table, wall and anything else in the way. He's often run straight into one of us, or Charlie. And tripping over his own feet is not out of the question either.

While it is terribly funny to watch, it literally takes him twice as long to get where he is going. He is so much faster than us, it doesn't matter in the long run to him, but if he was running from an opponent who could match his speed, he would have no chance of eluding them. 

So, while looking behind you to avoid your enemies or watch for problems might seem like a good idea, it is far more likely that your adversary would never be able to catch you if you just don't turn around at all in the first place! Run always looking to the END of the race. The goal. The finish line. Looking at how far you've gone could cause you to miss where you're going completely!

Hebrews 12:1-2

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,

Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

God bless and see you soon,

Joelle