What we learned this fall

Linking up today with Emily P. Freeman for her What We Learned series....

6 Things I Learned This Fall

1.  A professional gel manicure lasts a full two weeks--and the gel pedicure lasts 6 weeks.

My dear mother-in-law gave me a mani-pedi for my birthday in August, and it lasted until we went to the beach in September.  And the pedicure lasted until my toenails grew out six weeks later.

2.  Bob Ross used to be a drill sergeant.

Can you believe it?  According to Wikipedia, he did so much yelling as a master sergeant that when he left the military, he decided he would never raise his voice again.

3.  Bunnies make two kinds of poop.

File this under "Fascinating Things You Never Wanted to Know."  

We were wondering one day, after reading the Levitical dietary laws in our Bible time for school, why bunnies are classified as unclean because they "chew the cud" (Leviticus 11:6).  One of the kids asked about it, and I was agreeing that it was perplexing, but I didn't even finish my comment that bunnies don't chew cud before they were shouting at me.  "It's the Bible, Mom, so it's TRUE!"

So we Googled it.  And, as it turns out, if you define "chew the cud" as an ancient Hebrew might have, in the broad sense of "chewing already partially-digested food," then, yes, rabbit are cud-chewers.  As explained in this article and also this one (although fair warning: that second one gets a little more detailed and descriptive than I needed to know), bunnies make what we might call "good poop" and "bad poop."  The good poop is just partially digested food, which they later eat--a phenomenon that we have noted, but we didn't realize he was discriminating.  The bad poop is just, well, poop.  And they don't eat that.

They're not gross, after all.

But they were unclean.

4.  How fast I can move in the event of a fire.

I have our malfunctioning smoke detector to thank for this bit of self-knowledge.  It went off in the middle of the night when we were all sound asleep, triggering all the smoke alarms to go off, and the mystery lady that lives in them to repeat, "Fire.  Fire.  Fire.  Fire." 

So, how fast can I move in the event of a nighttime fire?

The answer is, pretty dang fast--but not as fast as Jason.  Also not nearly as intelligently.  I was standing in the hall with my glasses on my face before I actually woke up.  But I was at a loss as to what to do next.  Jason was already downstairs, sweeping the house for danger.  I heard the boys panicking so I opened the door to assure them that we thought everything was fine.  Then I trailed off after Jason until he asked, "Did you check the kids' rooms?"  

"Yeah, I told the boys it's ok.  I'm not sure if the girls are even awake."  

"Did you check the rooms FOR FIRE?"  

"Oh.  Right.  No.  I'll do that now."

Thankfully for my kids, whose lives might someday actually depend on my midnight intelligence, there was no smoke, no fire, and no other catastrophe.

5.  Our library system gives us free access to Rosetta Stone.

As in, you can use Rosetta Stone.  To learn languages.  Without spending whatever-zillion dollars it costs these days.  For free.  

Also, through the library, patrons have full access to Consumer Reports, a service that we once paid money for.

Mind.  Blown.

6.  How Frozen ends.

Yes, I am talking about Frozen I, despite the fact that the long-awaited sequel is out now.  And despite the fact that I actually once hosted a Frozen party.  I spent too much time on duty in the ice-palace-coloring-book room provided as a respite from the scary parts to really grasp the storyline of the movie.  And it's always been too expensive to rent, so I'd never seen the whole thing.

Enter Disney+.  My family has watched more Disney movies in the past two weeks than in our combined lifetimes before.  So I thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up on this classic.  I was pleasantly surprised at how good it is, really.  And I thought I had heard enough to get the gist of the plot, but I actually had the ending backwards in my mind.  Good stuff.

Even if that song is stuck in my head again, after taking a year and a half to get out of my head the first time.

What did you learn this fall?

  

Worms and leopards and alchemists

Ada and I took our third shopping trip together, as requested for her birthday.

Followed, as usual, by Cheesecake Factory.

It was such a good day, full of bargain hunting, shopping-til-we-dropped, and a good bit of giggling.

The school year marches on.  We've passed the one-third mark for the year.  

I struggle with science.  Despite my track record with worms, I was sure that this experiment would be like a worm spa, full of dirt and rotten leaves and all manner of good things.  We layered up the wormy goodness, added 4 worms (we each got to name one), put the jar in the closet for 4 days, and waited for the worms to mix up the layers.  

Unfortunately, Day 4 revealed only tragedy.

I was disappointed.  I had hoped for better things.  I sighed and said, "Poor wormies."  Caleb optimistically said, "Well, now they can go to heaven."

Below is the one picture I remembered to take on Halloween.  I plead not guilty by reason of worrying about the weather, in which I was justified a few days later when it was reported that a tornado touched down 6 miles from our house.

Our kids, dressed respectively as a rock star (I forget which one, he's famous and he wears makeup), a Gryffindor student, a witch, and an army guy, did not blow away while trick-or-treating, although they did get pretty wet.

"ma I hav a slipovr!" [May I have a sleepover?]
This photo was successfully designed to tug on Grandma's heartstrings and get Caleb what he asked for.

Tracing maps of Europe.

My favorite podcast these days is Happier with Gretchen Rubin (although I do love a good geek-out with Harry Potter and the Sacred Text). 

I was interested in an episode I heard recently on Leopards and Alchemists.

Leopards are people who don't try to change their spots, so to speak.  They're happy with who they are.  Alchemists are always trying to cook up change, to transform themselves into something different.  The question in the podcast was, which one are you?

I quickly self-identified as an alchemist.  Content with who I am?  Not naturally.  I wish I was energetic, like the people I know who remind me of hummingbirds.  I wish I enjoyed my kids climbing all over me.  I wish I wasn't socially awkward.  I wish I wasn't prone to depression and anxiety. 

Gretchen points out that as an alchemist, "I am miserable because I am always wanting to be something else than I am."  Leopards, on the other hand, "know who they are, and they don't worry about everything they aren't." 

That sounds so nice!  Maybe instead of trying to cook up an elixir to make myself friendly and energetic, I'll spend my energy wishing I was a leopard.

Quick lit

Linking up with Modern Mrs. Darcy (albeit a day late) to share what I've been reading lately....


Acts

Photo by Carolyn V on Unsplash

Besides being the life-giving Word of God, this was a fun trip down memory lane, as it reminded me of the time spent teaching 4th grade last year.  We learned all about Paul's travels and adventures in each city, and had some of the kids act out starting riots in protest against the Good News. 

Malachi

Photo by Kevin Mueller on Unsplash

I wrote some thoughts on this incredibly practical book here.  I love how it ends with a very down-to-earth description of how Jesus changes us:  "He will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers."

1 Timothy

Photo by Daniel Christie on Unsplash

This rich book has a lot about being above reproach in everyone's eyes.  In light of the curse given specifically to Eve ("In pain you will bring forth children"), I appreciate 2:15:  "But women will be preserved through the bearing of children if they continue in faith and love and sanctity with self-restraint."  Even here, in the heart of the curse, God is bringing about my salvation!  This is the context of my sanctification.  He turns the very deserved curse into a vehicle for our blessing.

Tales of the Greek Heroes by Roger Lancelyn Green

Ada is so sick of Greek myths, more's the pity, because we're not done yet.  Green's take on these tales is not only a) the version that inspired Rick Riordan, but b) told as a single saga which weaves all the interconnected stories together, which helps them make more sense--and might help a little with keeping the divine family trees straight.

Psalms

Photo by Carolyn V on Unsplash

Who doesn't like reading through the Psalms?  I've been struck by how very many verses are recognizable from the New Testament, and also how very many modern songs are taken from the Psalms (unsurprisingly, since it is a songbook).  Everyone from Third Day to Matt Maher to Eddie James to Keith Green to Brent Chambers has taken inspiration from this book.

The Adventures of Achilles by Daniel Morden

As I said, Ada:  not done yet.  This series is at least brief, heavily illustrated, and quite readable.  We tackle Odysseus next.

What have you been reading lately?

Pictures of death and real life

What are we up to these days?  

Well, slaughtering pretend sheep, for one thing.

Jason and I scored the fabulous job of teaching a new Sunday school class for adults with disabilities.  It is so fun.  I get to make up the lessons, and Jason assists me in teaching--by, for example, spraying ketchup all over the place when I slaughter a sheep made of polyester batting.

To keep things simple, I decided we would do a run-through of the entire Bible this year.  We meet every other week, so we've had five classes so far, and now we're up to Exodus.  But the sheep slaughtering started in Genesis with the story of Abraham.  

When God made the covenant with Abraham--to make his descendants into a great nation, to take care of them, to give them a land of their own, and to bless the whole world through them--God directed him to kill a sheep and cut it in half.  

Sorry, poly-fill sheep, it's about to get real.  

I divided the sheep, Jason squirted ketchup, and everyone gasped and groaned.  Then we turned out the light to illustrate that God put Abraham to sleep, and I lit a candle and passed it between the sheep pieces--as God did, to signify that He Himself will keep the covenant.  Abraham did not pass through the pieces.  The only One to bear the bloody consequence of a broken covenant would be God Himself; only He would become as the slaughtered sheep.

Last month I had an almost-professional photo shoot.  As in, subject of said shoot used the photos for her professional bio page.  Being a beloved sister-in-law, I kept my fee low.  

Just a hug.

Easy to get great pictures when your subject is gorgeous!

She was pleased enough with the result, the headshot was uploaded and duly approved, and I felt greatly inspired to skip paying someone for my own children's 2019 school portraits.

Little did I know that Photographer's Kid Syndrome is real. 

Jenny, of Be Thou My Vision Photography, assures me it's harder with your own kids.  Even for the pros.

True or not, she made me feel much better about the weensy ratio of decent photos to total attempted. 

This one became official for the year.

This one did not. 

This one did.

This one: also official.

He wishes.

Lizzy's official.

We circled back to slaughtered sheep the next time at Sunday school.  This lesson was on the Exodus out of Egypt.  In the final plague, God killed the firstborn of every household--unless He saw the blood of an innocent lamb covering the doorframe, in which case His judgement passed over.  

This week our slaughtered sheep was a cotton ball, and we went with paint instead of ketchup.  Above is an Israelite home, where all the occupants are saved by the blood of the lamb smeared on the lintel, killed in their place. 


What precious hope that God would cover even us with the blood of the Lamb.

"Dear Mr., Mrs., Ms., or Miss, Tooth Fairy
I have placed My tooth inside of my tooth pillow.  I have wrapped it in a paper towl because it is gross.
Hope you are well,
Ada"