notinKansasanymore

Is there a date? (Airplane tickets will be cheaper now than later.) Will we gather at the river? Will there be stuffed jalepenos? May I help? Let me say that with feeling: May I Help? Love, niKa

Rocky - what can we say?? You were a visionary, my friend.

OOOOh, this is such a wonderful thread. The accounts are goose-bump-inspiring. Socks - you're like some kind of elder brother Yoda, or something (and I mean that as a sincere compliment, which reveals my nerdness). "Elder" is only a cosmetic term, of course. It's wonderful to be able to read this discussion.

It was 104 today, and is still 97 as I type this, at 10:30 at night. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. Give me a blistering hot summer day over a cold winter one, any time!! Yes, we're a bit sweaty, even though we've been inside with the air conditioning. Drink lots of water. Hydrate with tomatoes from the garden; they are at their peak right now. Bring it on! I have noticed that something else is growing. I planted an Obama sign in my front yard a few weeks ago, and now they're popping up all up and down the street. Several of them, and my street is only one block long. Could lead to dancing.

There has been a time, or maybe two, in my own life when I thought, in hindsight, that I'd had a possible encounter with an angel. But there is no doubt in my mind that I am here on the Earth only because my father, may God rest his sweet soul, had one. I related this incident on the 9th Corps thread a few years ago, when Dad died, but here it is again. My Dad fought in the Pacific theater of WWII, and was in the patrol which held the record for number of days behind enemy lines. Every man in his group but one was wounded, and that unwounded man had his rifle shot out of his hands, and had the heel of his boot shot off. But I digress. It was very heavy fighting. You probably know that in times of war, soldiers "buddy up." A soldier teams up with a friend who will watch his back, and vice versa. One day, my father's buddy was killed in action. The very next day, Dad and the remaining patrol members found themselves pinned down by heavy enemy fire, and quickly running out of ammunition. What the Japanese lacked in supplies, they made up for in sheer numbers of people. They just kept coming. The American soldiers knew that this was the end for them. Dad looked up, and saw his buddy (who'd died in combat the day before) standing there, just standing straight up, in the firing zone. "Sam, looks like you're having a hard time of it," he said. He gestured behind some bushes. Dad crawled over there, and found a box of ammunition. How it got there, nobody knew or cared, but it was enough to stand off the rest of the attack. Dad never called this an angel encounter; he did not know what to call it. He also told me that the other guys never believed him about his buddy showing him where the ammo was, "but they sure believed the ammunition," he would chuckle. Dad never met my Mom until a few years after the war. In retrospect, I'm kind of glad that he made it. Anyway, that's the best angel story I know. There were other times when Dad would "know" something that ended up saving his life, but this was the only time when the knowledge involved a supernatural being. Perhaps that's what it took to get him to crawl out of his semi-protected spot to go and look behind those bushes. There have also been other incidents of my family members "knowing" things which they could not have learned through the five senses; it happened more to my folks and to my sister than to me (although a bit to me). I have wondered whether the ministry caused me to adopt a false spiritual pridefulness which hampered my access to the awareness that seems to run in the family. There have been times since my father's passing when I have felt a watchful, protective, loving presence. Yes, I know that Weirwille taught that this was devilish. Yeah, yeah. He taught a lot of stuff. I'd rather see a sermon than hear one any day; is that how the saying goes? love, niKa

Hi, Ya'll. Thinking of you tonight. I hope that you're all happy, and that you have been able to find a good watermelon or three by now. Fellowshipper, had any snow yet? Wearing your reindeer jumper? The tomatoes and basil are going strong in the garden; these are the bruschetta days of summer. I got lost out in the country today; I found myself in Cement, Oklahoma (pronounced SEE-ment), where the people were sweet enough to tell me how to get back to where I was supposed to be. Lots of open spaces out there. Good night; love you all.

Happy Fireworks, everyone! I hope that you are able to spend this holiday with people you love. Thinking of you, niKa

No problemo, my sweet sister. Rock on with your good self.

Ex - I've got no clue what's up here, since you have edited it out. I'm guessing that it was too painful to keep in cyberspace (ouch). But I'm praying for you. I myself walked away from my entire support group of local moms a bit more than a year ago, because the de facto leader of the group betrayed my friendship with malicious words, in casual gossip, knowing that it would be extremely damaging to one of my children, and they all stood with her. Maybe they were afraid of not being comfortable taking their kids to the park every day after school, as we used to do. I went from having four or five "good friends" that I'd built up over a few years, to zero overnight. The pain of the betrayal is still strong. Anyway, time will pass, and maybe you'll feel better, and maybe you won't. But at least you've got company. Rock on, girlfriend.

I stopped by the post office there, on my way to somewhere else, a few years ago, and had a lovely conversation with the postal worker, who said that the ministry had sold off that property. I felt that if this was correct, then I felt sorry for the family who donated that land the TWI. It surely wasn't in service for very long.

I used to be a bit shocked that marriage to a very, VERY nice guy (who, thank GOD, never took "the class") was so much fun, and so peaceful. Now, it's not shocking any more; it's just wondeful, normal life. I'm appalled that so many women remained single for so many years for lack of partners who'd achieved the correct level of "spirituality." I just went into debt again, a couple of days ago, to buy a SECOND HOUSE. It's next door to ours, and one of our kids is going to live in it while finishing college. I'm extra-specially out-of-my-gourd-delighted that this precious kid is going to be right next door. Shocking: debt for a house I won't even live in. I'm building relationships with my RELATIVES. Shocking. I stayed home from church this morning. Geez, I must really be a shockiing reprobate. I have friends who are gay, and since I'm a university professor, I must be a bastion of liberality. Is that shocking?

Oh, ma-aaan. Had the first peach of the summer a few minutes ago. It was so juicy that I had to eat it over the sink. I love summer. Is this what I get for ditching my T.V.? Almost three years ago, now? Just now watched Obama's press conference on the internet, about why he and his family have left Trinity Church. It revealed quite a bit about the inner man, in my opinion. He said that he prays often throughout the day, and often asks himself if he's making decisions and taking actions that line up with the precepts of his Christian faith, in order to keep himself on track. He said that he originally went to Trinity two decades ago because that's where he found Jesus Christ. This reminds me of why we 9th Corps kid wonders ever joined up with the Way in the first place. Okay, that's probably enough rambling for now. I'm going to take myself into the kitchen and look for another one of those peaches. 'Night, niKa.

One of my 9th Corps sisters named Cathy (can't recall her last name, which is stupid, because we were close) hitchhiked at an airport instead of a truckstop (living victoriously) and rode somewhere with Bob Hope. She witnessed to him on the way. Different topic: during the year when PFAL was $200 (can't recall which year that was; it yo-yo'd up and down for a few years), someone whom I knew witnessed to Cher. Cher saw right through the BS, and said "if it really did all that, it'd be a lot more than $200." I remember thinking that she must have been a pretty sharp cookie.

We did do . . . that voodoo . . . that we knew . . . so well. I stole that from Blazing Saddles, which stole it from an old torch song -- I don't know much voodoo these days, but this surely does feel more peaceful. Summer has begun; yesterday was the last day of school for my sweet babies. They had an extra week, because they missed one during the ice storm this past December. I think that the first lightening bug was in the front yard tonight. I love lightening bugs.

Wow! Cool. Thanks, Paw!

I agree with Rhino that children need protection, and I'm willing to bet that any wife who's helped her husband rise up the corporate ladder, only to find herself replaced by a trophy wife, believes that spouses need protection, as well. I also know both Rhino and George, and think that they'd get along really well, and have a great time discussing this over a brewski. Let's all use this as a great excuse to get together for beer and brats!!

Several different tomato varieties, lots of basil. The mint volunteers every year. Eggplant, Mild peppers, onions. I also found four different varieties of rosemary this morning at the farmer's market, and those are going inside in pots. We still have to put in the other stuff, but we're very big on pesto, salsa, and bruschetta here. The garden is mostly relaxation therapy for my husband.

A majority of white Southerners didn't want Black people to be able to vote; the court system shoved that right down their throats, thank God. School Segregation was only ended by the courts. "White" and "Colored" drinking fountains were only ended by the courts, against the will of much of the Caucasian population of the South. Our service academies (West Point, Anapolis) didn't allow women; again, the court system drug our country out of the dark ages. My point is that when the majority is wrong, the court is fulfilling its responsibility when it steps in for marginalized people. It takes a conversation to make these things happen, so it is good for all points of view to be brought to the table. But it's not a rectangular table, with certain "better" folks at the head, and certain "lesser" folks down the sides, or at baby tables in the next room. It has to be a round table.

Okay, I know that this isn't what we were all taught to believe in TWI, but they were pretty wrong about some other things, too (adultery, abortion, women as second-class people, children as nothing but hindrances, I could go on, but life is pretty short for that). I just have to say that I'm glad that same-sex couples in California can finally have the legal protection that I have in my heterosexual marriage. Either God made them that way, or they're convinced in their hearts that He did; either way, they feel that they have no choice but to be the way that they are. If they can't live life, find true love, settle down, and raise a family, then that's wrong. I'm not trying to start a fight on this site. I'm just expressing my opinion that discrimination of this sort is as bad as racism or sexism. It's about time that a big state has taken a stand on it. God Bless California.

Taught the last class on Tuesday, had the last office hours today. Finals are next week. I'm wearing my Almost-Outta-Here_Hawaiian-Mumuu happy hour dress. It has flying fish on it. Wa-HOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Highway, I understand your point about their not having broken state law because it's not a "legal marriage," and you make some other good points, but since they lived as man and wife, it's at least a commonlaw marriage. That said, I'll leave your comments, and make a few of my own. The main issue here, which cannot be altered by sincere ladies in prairie dresses and funny hairdos glaring at the camera and being self-rightous, or even being humble and gentle, is that this is rape. It's illegal for girls under the age of 17 to give consent to sexual intercourse in Texas, and it's illegal for a parent to give a child for sex. Parents in Texas can sign for children to marry once the children are 16, but not before. These children were not old enough to consent, and they weren't old enough for their folks to consent. Religious disdain for the law is no excuse for breaking the law. There is no legal definition for this other than rape. It doesn't matter that they were raised to it, expected it, or even wanted it. They were not old enough under the law, so it is rape. Some children are raised to be prostitues, others raised to be thieves; that is illegal, and so is this. The veneer of Biblical posturing does not change the law, or the responsibility that those adults had to protect the safety of those children. I don't understand how these adults can be so righteously indignant. Don't they realize that every adult in that compound, both those who raped, those who gave the girls to be raped, and those who stood by and knew about it but did nothing to stop it, are all going to jail? They are child rapists, panderers, and enablers of child rapists and panderers. It really ticks me off that these idiots thought they could move to my home state and get away with this. After a while, I might stop sugarcoating this, and tell you how I really feel. :) These jerks are going away for a long time.

I'm just running out of the house, and have only been able to read the first few "setting up the situation" posts. These suggestions are not sequential, and I certainly don't mean that all of them should be (or even could be!) implemented at the same time. But any one of them alone might fit (or might not; only you will know). But if I may, please allow me to mention the following points: 1) have your child tested for dyslexia. In most places, even if the child is homeschooled, the school district in which the child resides is responsible to test for suspected learning disabilities. If there are suspected disabilities, it's free to get them tested in schoool, but much more expensive if you have to have it done privately (for college, for instance). Students with dyslexia do not generally do well in college unless they are protected by I.E.P.'s that prescribe, for instance, more time for tests, a note-taker in class, or audio recordings of textbooks. (Just wait until his first week of college, when he has to read five and six chapters a night.) If the tests show dyslexia, your teacher friend will have to admit that the child has it. Should your son's testing show a diagnosis of dyslexia, and your friend still not acknowledge it, this will help you decide whether you want that person to teach your son, no matter how nice he is. 2) Consider a move to the town where the person lives. If your husband isn't working, and you're homeschooling, there may be a better set of opportunities in the new town, but regardless, your son could still live with you while being taught by your friend. 3) get your husband to an employment counsellor. Many state employment offices provide this service. Inertia is a dangerous thing, and could keep him out of the workforce longer than he needs to be. 4) don't be so down on yourself. People don't have to know everything to homeschool their children; that's what the homeschool computer programs are for. I'm concerned that this potential teacher thinks that he knows more than the thousands of educators and physicians who do believe that dyslexia exists. If he's made you feel inferior, don't let him. I'm concerned that he seems to be pressuring you. 5) consider a good, local public school. They have dedicated teachers who really want to make a difference. 6) if this is all really about your friend being concerned about your sons being brought up in an unhealthy situation, consider whether he is right or wrong, and take action, if necessary. Good luck with this; it's a hard decision. Only you will know which path is the right choice.

Tap . . . tap . . . Is this thing on? It's been kind of a busy month here in the big town. How are you all doing? My Mom, who is in late-stage Alzheimer's, fell and broke her hip late last week, and had a hip replacement this past Monday; everything went quite well, and she's back home at her facility, to undergo some physical therapy and healing. We've also been busy with work, school, scouts, and all of the usual children's activities. Finals week is within sight, and summer is on the horizon, so close that if I had a really good arm, I might be able to hit it with a rock. I hope that Spring has finally taken firm hold wherever you live, and that it's a beautiful one. I hope that something unexpected and really neat happens to you today. Love to you, niKa

I wish you good luck with this. I have some osteo in my hands, and when I remember to faithfully take my glucosamine and chondroitin, my hands don't hurt. It takes a few weeks to start to work; it has to build up. One of the reasons I can get out of the habit of taking the supplements is that if one forgets for a few days, there's no immediate change; it's still got a built-up level. I travelled over Christmas, and didn't take it, and then just forgot when we returned home. I went about three months without the glucosamine and chondroitin. My hands tried to remind me, and finally the discomfort got loud enough to get my attention about two weeks ago. They are better as I type this, but they'll be a lot better in two or three more weeks. My doctor said that there are several good studies which have shown that glucosamine and chondroitin can't hurt you, and a few that seem to show that it can help. I appear to be one of those whom it can help. If you try it, I hope that it helps you, too.

Thanks, Socks! What a great article! I'd never watched much public television while growing up, and didn't really understand much about who "Craig and Don and Them" were making fun of at the microphone; they used to get a laugh from the lunchroom crowd by lisping while while imitating Mr. Rogers, and insinuating that he was wimpy or gay. I have since read, however, that in real life, Fred Rogers was an ex-Marine. He wore long sleeves because he had tattoos on his arms. When my own children were young, they absolutely loved him. He was a wonderful neighbor to them. Besides, now they know how crayola crayons are made, and how teddy bears are sewn, and lots of other cool things. It's true that the world could use a few more like him.