Rum Tum Tugger
Mr. Keats (the wicked kitty) loves very much to go out onto our second-floor roof from our office on the third floor. But he just doesn't get the concept that the seasons change outdoors. Two days ago we got a light snow, but he sat by the door crying to be let out. Out he went, puzzled by this strange, cold, wet white stuff. Less than a minute later he wanted back in.

Today he sat crying by the door again.

"There's still snow out there, Keats," I told him.

Me-OW, Mee-ooow. (Translate: Let me OUT now!)

So I tossed him outside. His paws hit the snow and he immediately scurried back to the door, indignant.

"What had happened to the nice, warm place where I sun myself?" Walnut brain.

An editor's rant
Boy would I love to clobber the genius who got half the country to misuse the term consult. Last I checked, consult meant to seek advice or an opinion. Therefore, consultants to not consult their clients, but rather their clients consult them. Consultants (as well as attorneys, accountants, physicians and other such experts) in fact advise clients for a living. Is this really such a difficult concept?

Just for the fun of it...
I've made up a really pointless quiz. Hey, it's one of those yawner Saturdays in January. The highlight of my day was walking the dog. Ooh boy.

1. What celebrities would you like to host at your home for dinner?
Emma Thompson and Wayne Brady, but not necessarily on the same night. ;-) Emma seems like a deep thinker and Wayne just makes me laugh until my sides ache.

2. If you could have your own TV or radio program, what would the content be?
A half-hour NPR radio program featuring percussion and percussionists :-)

3. If you could have any sci-fi technology at your disposal, what would you choose?
The Star Trek transporter. Never be late, and never pay shipping charges again!

4. If you had sufficient resources to start up a business, what would you do?
Publish a magazine for historic re-enactment weddings

5. If you could be an animal for a day, what would you choose and why?
A Canada goose. I could swim, fly and hang out with lots of friends.

6. When you were a kid, what careers did you aspire to?
A teacher, or a children's book writer like Madeleine L'Engle

7. What things terrified you as a child?
Fire, especially our burner barrell. Also clowns and creepy dolls.

8. What scenarios occur regularly in your dreams?
Chase dreams in which I discover I can fly, scary dreams involving aliens, performance anxiety dreams in which I have to play a band instrument I can't play, and mysterious dreams involving buildings with floor plans that change as you walk around in them

Thought for food
I took a day off yesterday and got the rare opportunity to watch Oprah. The topic was building a weight loss plan that will work for you. “Lose weight” is one of the most common New Year’s resolutions that gets broken within days of January 1.

One of Oprah’s guests recommended getting at the root of why you eat the way you do before starting any program.

So, raise you hand if you are an emotional eater who eats to feel good.

Yup, that’s me. As I wrote in an earlier post, food was my dearest friend when we were having difficulty conceiving.

Ah, but it’s so much worse than that. I realize that I have several other major eating triggers:
--Boredom. It’s very easy to start munching at my desk when my workday is dull.
--Social awkwardness. At parties, I can hide my clumsiness at making small talk by keeping my mouth full.
--Scarcity mentality. This is my biggest Achilles’ heel. My parents grew up during the Depression and instilled the need to never waste anything. As a result, I have a hard time passing up free food when it is on offer.

I’ve made some good progress on overcoming the scarcity mentality the past few months, and did really well steering clear of the piles of goodies all over the office during the holidays. Addressing emotional eating will be the next hurdle.

This leads me to my blog question of the day: What is your favorite pick-me-up, feel-good activity other than eating?

Uh-oh
My brother Jerry (the ELCA pastor) will be rubbing his hands in glee--the denomination selector put me as a Lutheran. Ack. :-)

Here are my results:

1. Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod
2. Evangelical Lutheran Church
3. Church of Christ
4. Episcopal/Anglican Church
5. Presbyterian Church in America/Orthodox Presbyterian Church
6. Reformed Churches
7. Eastern Orthodox Church
8. International Church of Christ
9. Methodist/Weslyian Church
10. Assemblies of God

Not that Lutheranism is so bad, but I find it kind of annoying how hung up they are on their denominational distinctives. I really thought I would come out Episcopal or Reformed Churches as my top choices. If you could kick out the really wacky liberals, the Episcopalians have a lot of good things going for them. I attended a fabulous CRC church when I was taking courses at Michigan State in East Lansing. I'd have more fondness for my current denomination (PCA) if liturgical worship had made any inroads here in Philadelphian Presbyterianism. I'll save that particular gripe for another post. *sigh*

A disclaimer
While I've been blogging for over a year now, I don't think I've waxed theological more than about twice. The primary reason for this is not because I have no opinion, but because I am a big coward.

My husband is a hundred times more articulate than I will ever be regarding matters biblical, theological and philosophical. I've also met some very articulate blogging women like Barb and Sarah, whose opinions usually make me think, "Yeah, that's exactly right." I have a hard time believing I have anything worthwhile to add to the debate.

However, I do have a pretty unique perspective on many theological topics. My religious heritage is extremely mongrel. My mother was raised Roman Catholic, my father, nominal Methodist. My parents have been in six or seven denominations in their 55 years of marriage. I've been in the somewhat schizophrenic Christian Missionary Alliance, the Quaker-offshoot Evangelical Friends, the Southern Baptist Church, the Brethren in Christ, and have even explored Penecostal beliefs before I became involved in the PCA. My oldest brothers are ordained in the Canadian Anglican and Evangelical Lutheran churches. My sister is a charismatic who attends a Willow-Creek-style church and my third brother is a closet Baptist who attends a United Methodist church. Some probably see my backgound as a serious liability, but I think I simply have more colorful baggage than most.

Where has this circuitous route led me? I'm quite keen on liturgy, prayer book, paedobaptism, partial-preterism, and what some call "ecclesiocentrism." I know I have some kindred spirits out there, and some hidden opponents who are likely sharpening their knives right now.

With some serious trepidation, I will be sticking my toe in the pool a little in the coming months, in hopes that rather than lose phalanges to the sharks, the dolphins will invite me in to swim.

For fun
Here's another of my poems, this one previously published in About Such Things, spring 1997 issue.

Gilbert

My friend Gilbert
had the kind of face
you'd see on milk cartons
on rainy Thursday mornings
that puddle in your brain
without a grain of sense
or purpose but dripdrip drip.

Gil played games
that brought down bullies
to less than larger-than-life
lugs we could look in the eye
and not cringe.

Gil's games
made emperors of roaches
and elf queens of
bucktoothed, freckled girls
that are good at math
and can't sing.

Gil thought thoughts
that entered me like
garlic and permeated blood
and lungs and skin,
reeking and lusty of life,
lingering in the pores
for days.

copyright L. J. Webster, 1997

Blogger day
Today Joel and Claire and I drove down to Baltimore for a blogger get together at Valerie's place. It was really an enjoyable time--thanks again, Valerie! In addition to meeting our lovely hostess for the first time, we also met Sarah G. (but not Bailey :-( ), Brian D., Paulo O. and Daniel S. It was the second time I'd met Daniel, but the first time meeting everyone else.

My big surprise was to discover that Sarah and I are nearly the same height. I thought she would be really short after seeing a photo of her and Duane on his site. But no, it's simply the case that Duane is a giant. ;-)

It is kind of a strange experience to meet in person people you've followed online for a while, I must admit. First, it's easy to have a skewed picture of their personalities because the online medium doesn't allow you to experience others' mannerisms, voice tone, etc. that convey so much when we communicate in person. Second, there's a certain level of "I know you, but I don't know you" weirdness to get past. I'm really glad to have had the opportunity, though. I think I will read their blogs differently now, with a genuine voice and face behind each.

Remembering...teen angst
I've been listening to a "best of" Toto collection and it struck me that the tunes I liked best from this group were the really depressing ones. Here's a really uplifing example:

If I had another chance tonight
I'd try to tell you that the things we had were right
Time can erase the love we shared
But it gives me time to realize just how much you cared

Now you're gone, I'm really not the same
I guess I held myself to blame
Time can erase the things we said
But it gives me time to realize that you're the one who's sad

You know I won't hold you back now
The love we had just can't be found
You know I can't hold you back now

Now that I'm alone it gives me time
To think about the years that you were mine
Time can erase the love we shared
But it gives me time to realize just how much you cared

Yeah, it's pretty pedestrian as poetry goes. I often wonder why bleak stuff was so appealing to me as a teen. I wasn't a Goth externally, but I did tend to sit around writing dreck like Winona Rider's character in Beetlejuice..."I am alone. I am so utterly alone."

Ah, but I also really liked Devo, the Dr. Demento radio show and doing extremely weird things like walking with friends around neighborhood streets, with flashlights, in pairs, pretending to be cars. Or breaking into a cemetery to eat pizza with the dead.

Hmm. It must be small town life that makes one alternately depressive and loony.

Post-Christmas slump
The first few days after Christmas with the Garvers is like coming down off of a big sugar high. As one of five kids, I am very unaccustomed to the extravagant gift-giving that goes on with my husband's family on Christmas Eve. By the next day I usually feel as overwhelmed and cranky as any toddler would under the circumstances. I suppose I should have expected as much marrying an only child.

Not that I'm not grateful to be a recipient of his parents' generosity. I just have trouble processing the sensory overload. Our solution to keep Claire on even-keel was to buy her very little ourselves: one book, one toy and two outfits. We gave her the toy Christmas morning. The clothing went quietly into her closet. We inscribed the book and put it in her bookcase. Next year, when she will be more aware of what's going on, I think we'll have to work something out with Joel's folks to spread out the gift opening over several days or something like that.

They certainly do have good taste. Claire got lots and lots of books, some beautiful clothes and the coolest toy ever, Music Blocks. It enables kids to compose music. Each block plays a different musical phrase, and each block can play one of six different instrumental sounds, depending on which side is up. You switch in different base casettes--Bach, Mozart or Jazz, for instance--to get a variety of music phrases and instruments. We were all having a ball playing with it.

Speaking of balls, Nicky surprised us Christmas morning by fetching a kitty tennis ball that Keats got in his stocking. Our previous attempts to teach him to fetch anything had been fruitless. Whenever we threw a ball or stick, he would just look at us, head tilted, as if to say, "Huh? Whatcha doin"?" (Well, he is a husky mix, bred for pulling sleds, not a retreiver.) Wednesday morning, Joel tossed the ball to Keats, and Nicky caught it in mid-air and brought it back. Will wonders never cease?

Let's name baby Horne!
Mark and Jenn are being so hush-hush about their name choices for their fourth child; do you think they've picked something yet? Joel and I were discussing this last night. They need a name for their daughter that will fit with her siblings' names. The boys, Calvin and Nevin, are named after theologians. And Evangeline is a Bible-based name. We also noticed that all three of them have a "V" in their name. So here are some suggestions that we came up with:

Our top choices
Devorah (Deborah)
Geneva
Olivia (peaceful)
Vivian/Vivienne (life, lively)

Second tier
Davita (fem. of David)
Eve
Rivkah (Rebecca)

Names with V that aren't Biblical
Sylvia (forest maiden)
Evelyn (pleasant)
Averill (April)
Ivy
Avery (ruler of elves)

So let's hear your vote. What name would you pick to complete this set: Calvin, Nevin, Evangeline and _______?

Nuptial fashion
Okay gals, after so many requests, here are a few photos from my wedding. Since we don't have a scanner, we took digital photos of photos, so these aren't the best possible quality....



Here I am with my two attendants. All of our dresses are based on the same pattern, an 1809 "Daywear" dress. My sister's (red) sticks to the basic pattern. My matron of honor's dress (green) was modified to be a maternity dress. Sylvia was about 6 months pregnant here. My dress has a collar added, an overskirt of lace, and a cape sort of train with thin straps that went over each arm. The train is based on fashion plates from ladies' magazines of the era.



Here's a photo taken in natural light. You can see the straps to the train in this shot, though they are intended to kind of blend into the bodice of the dress itself.



Here's a back shot of the train. The ribbon roses were a sort of '90s touch I'd seen in bridal magazines. Georgian-era dresses would have just had elaborate trim or braid around all the edges.



Here comes the bride.... Can you tell I am much happier to be here than Dad is? This shot shows off the lace really well. I'd seen a Georgian dress in a museum with nearly this same pattern embroidered on it.



An obligatory cake-cutting shot. Joel and the guys (p-duggie and my brother) wore morning coats, striped pants, vests, ascots and shirts with the collars folded high. It was the closest we could approximate. Authentic menswear of the era would have meant shorter vests and pants that button up to bottom of the ribs.



And here's the infamous check-writing photo. :-)

Two Towers…some initial gut-reactions
Last night, Joel and I got a sitter and went on a real date for our anniversary. We had dinner out and saw the Two Towers.

While the Fellowship of the Ring film exceeded my expectations in every way, I think Two Towers is more of a mixed bag.

First, the positive. The film’s portrayal of evil, of an overwhelming malign will bent on destruction, is unparalleled. In fact, as the Helm’s Deep situation began to unfold, I had to flee to the ladies’ room for a breather. I sat in a stall, crossed myself and recited parts of the Breastplate of St. Patrick, “Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.…” I clung to Joel’s arm and trembled when the first waves of Orcs attacked Helm’s Deep. It is a terrifying scene in the extreme.

Gimli is just fantastic in this film. He adds a lot of heart and much-needed levity at just the right moments. And Golem is a wonder to behold. He is indeed pitiable and loathesome at the same time—and what a range of emotion and facial expressions from a computer-animated character!

The new heartthrob du jour? Definitely Faramir. He makes Aragorn look like a scruffy ruffian and Eomer, an 80’s metal band flunkie. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing a whole lot more of him on screen (as in more time, nothing naughty!) :-) Lucky, Lucky Eowyn! Boy is she in for a big treat in the next film.

The Ents…well, they were mostly really cool. When viewed up close, they are every bit the ancient, mighty, crush-everything-in-your-path kind of heroic beings. They just seemed a bit too willowy and fragile when viewed at a distance. In the scene where they ravage Saruman’s stronghold, I kept wavering between, “Yeah! Go Ents, go!” and “Oh, dear, will the poor Ents be okay?”

My big disappointment was Rohan. This is my “most favoritest” part of Middle Earth, and Jackson’s vision didn’t quite measure up to my expectations. In part, that’s because he got Hobbiton so dead-on. Why weren’t the villages, and Edoras in particular, surrounded by herds of grazing horses? These are supposed to be the horse lords! And where are the stables? I was expecting big, elaborate stable complexes in Edoras. Also, the people all seem like a bunch of extras. I didn’t have a sense that there was a cohesive culture, with commerce and other signs of daily life going on in the towns.

My other big hang up was the scene inside the armory at Helm’s Deep when Aragorn and Legolas converse. Suddenly, I’m no longer looking at a green-eyed elf, but Orlando Bloom’s naked brown eyes! What the heck? Why would Jackson the detail guru let Bloom be filmed with the wrong eye color, then let that take make it into the final print? Joel thinks it’s a deliberate gaffe to see if anyone noticed.

Now I have to watch the film again, so see if there are other such gaffes! :-)

Four years ago today...
I head off for my 9 a.m. hair appointment. One hour, 30 hot rollers and 80 hairpins later, my shoulder-length hair is transformed into a lovely array of curls piled on the back of my head. But alas, I now must drive back to the apartment in my headpiece and veil. Why didn't I drag Mom along? Okay, I must be sitting on my veil, because I can't turn my head to check for oncoming traffic. Grr. Okay, through that intersection. Gosh, people are honking and waving as they pass me...

Mom is still pressing her dress when I get back. I'm feeling stir crazy. I haven't packed for the honeymoon yet. Where is that list of phone numbers I gathered for my sis-in-law? Where is the knife and cake server? My engagement ring is dirty! Ack! Ack! Ack!

Mom heads off to collect my sister and niece from a friend's house. Dad helps me load my gown and other items into the car. I expect his usual softie side to come pouring out on the drive into the city, but no, he is clinging to the car's hand grip in white-knuckled terror. "Do you have to drive so fast?" he asks. I'm going 40 mph. Dad hates the city.

Since I'm stuck in the veil, I have to hide from Joel all morning. My matron of honor acts as my spy. When the coast is clear, I head downstairs to dress. I really wanted to help set things up, but friends and relatives shoo me away.

I'm trying to write a check for the caterer with wet nails when the photographer arrives. She snaps a shot of me in this crazy position.

We go up to the sanctuary to start taking photos. When I appear, my friends who make up a little vocal ensemble stop their practice to whistle and hoot. "It's Elizabeth Bennett! No! Emma Woodhouse!" I smile and blush. I do feel just like an Austen heroine in my tafetta, satin and lace, fashioned after an 1809 dress pattern.

I can't wait to see Joel.

At last
I've finally dropped a few more pounds of pregnancy weight after a two month plateau. Just five more pounds to go.

Of course, after that I need address the extra pounds gained from a rigorous round of ice cream therapy for infertility. And yes, thank you, ice cream therapy did work for me! :-)

Holiday greetings
We just finished stuffing and mailing our Christmas cards. We usually include a little holiday newsletter--a tradition I started when I was single. Back then the publication was called "Laurel's Leaves," now it's the "Garver Gazette." We post an expanded version online. Click here to view.

Poor Joel
He's awfully congested. This morning he was singing along with a Christmas CD..."Deh's doh payce dike ohm foh da howwidaze." Hopefully the theraflu will kick in soon.

Template update
I asked Joel to update my blog template so that visitors don't have to scroll down to start reading entries. He decided to "celt-ify" it too by adding the knotwork backgound, since I am a big fan of Irish music. I told him that if he added horseshoes and quill pens among the knots he would just about have me wrapped up. But that would be really ugly. ;-)

Shingles club
Wow, people seem to be coming out in droves to proclaim they have had shingles as a young person. This was once considered an elderly people disease. I wonder if our disinfected, vaccinated world is making us more suceptible to this type of auto-immune problem. I have a genetic predisposition of immune weakness to varicella and zoster. My grandmother had zoster 5 or 6 times in her lifetime.

Anyone in addition to Annie, Mark and me in the shingles club?

A shot or not a shot?
So, President Bush thinks the general public should begin being immunized for smallpox. That sounds like such fun. Aren't you eager to rush to your doctor to be stabbed repeatedly in the arm with a bifurcated needle, then be sick for 2-3 weeks, and possibly get a mild form of the disease?

We're publishing an article on the smallpox vaccine in the magazine I work for. Trying to find illustations was really fun. The CDC has all kinds of pretty photos of people who spread the virus to themselves by scratching the injection site. Tapioca skin. Mmm. Lovely.

I now know I'm in a high risk group for complications from the vaccine because I've already had herpes zoster (shingles) twice, at age 5 and age 26. So I certainly won't be storming my doctor's office to volunteer.

What's your opinion? Get the shot or not?

Labeling laws
I think the obstetricians and pediatricians should get together to develop warning labels for babies:

WARNING
The cute neonate you are about to receive is an effective biological weapon that can and will spread numerous, very contagious, viral and bacterial pathogens to you and members of your immediate family. Kiss and cuddle at your own risk.

Okay, so I'm less than thrilled to be recovering from my second cold in less than three weeks. Joel is also now sick.

Thanks for sharing, Claire. What a giving kid. *sigh*

Another survey
From Valerie

1. Which blogger have you known longest online only?
Jenn H. (Jenn's blog) We started e-mailing over two years ago, before either of us had blogs.

2. Which blogger have you known longest IRL?
Paul D. (Hierogrammate). We met 9 years ago, when I was logistics coordinator on the singles' group retreat committee and he volunteered to help us.

No wait, I've known Jonathan F. (Great Scot) even longer. We met in August 1986, when we were freshmen at Messiah College.

3. Which blogger have you spent the most time with IRL?
Joel (Sacra doctrina)--it's hard to avoid when you're married.

4. Which blogger would you most like to meet IRL (that you haven’t met IRL)?
Jenn (Jenn's blog). She has been a very supportive friend over the past few years. We also went to the same college and have many other things in common.

5. Which blogger do you think has the best blog design?
Joel (Sacra doctrina). I really love the photo. (Probably because I took it. Hee hee.) I really like Kristen's site (In the Shadowlands) too. Nice art, easy to navigate, excellent continuity of design.

6. Which blogger do you like most to argue with?
I'm generally not fond of arguing.

7. Which blogger makes you laugh the most?
Duane (Amber Bach). His humor is very reminiscent of my goofy brother Steve, who kept me laughing through a difficult childhood.

8. Which blogger intimidates you the most?
Emeth (Emeth Hesed Smith). She speaks several languages fluently, knows HTML and is very articulate and accomplished for her young age. I'm also very, very intimidated by SAHMs (though I'm not naming any names), mostly because I worry that they think I am evil for being an employed mom.

9. Which blogger do you most wish would post more often?
Wayne (Carrifex). Ah, but wait, he seems to be making up for lost time now!

10. Which blogger do you most wish would get a comment system?
Jonathan F. (Great Scot). I'd love to ask him questions about his life in Taiwan that he is carefully chronicling.

For Barb: a holiday ditty

(To the tune of "White Christmas")

I'm dreaming of a blood-bay Hanoverian
Who does the horse-ballet, dressage.
In his equine toe-shoes,
He does some smooth moves
And makes the judges gasp in awe.

I'm dreaming of a blood-bay Hanoverian
And as I while away the hours
I yearn for ribbons and trophies and flowers
And the Olympic team relying on my powers.

Just what I need...a stylin' time machine





What's Your Movie Dream Car?

by Auto Glass America

I especially like the idea of never being late again!

Thanks to Valerie for this link.

Travel tips?
Yesterday I bought my plane tickets for Florida. I'm heading south with Claire for my mom's 75th birthday in February. I also want Dad to get a chance to meet Claire while he is still mostly lucid. His dementia is getting pretty bad and I suspect that by spring he will need to move over to the skilled nursing building in their retirement community.

I'm frankly pretty nervous about getting around airports with Claire and her gear by myself. The flight down is nonstop, and I'll have to change planes in Charlotte, N.C. on the way home.

Mom is going to borrow a travel crib and maybe even a car seat. I'm debating whether to take our Metrolite stroller (15 lbs.) or the cheapo umbrella stroller (about 9 lbs.).

Any of you seasoned parents have travel tips for flying with a 5 1/2 month old?

A relative-ly fun Thanksgiving
For the first time in quite a while, I got to see all three of my brothers on a holiday weekend.

We spent Thanksgiving with my brother Jerry in Souderton, Pa., where he pastors a Lutheran Church. The next day we drove to Fredericksburg, Va. to stay a few days with my brother Steve, who is an engineer. Our oldest brother Tom, an Episcopal priest, came up from North Carolina to see us and meet Claire. (Yes, I have brothers named Tom and Jerry. They were born prior to the cartoon, but during the years my parents were into cocktail culture. A Tom and Jerry is apparently a kind of alcoholic punch.)

My niece and nephew, who are 8 and 10, took quite a shine to their new cousin. Claire actually laughed out loud for the first time while there, she had so much fun playing.



A highlight of the trip for me was a visit to Scrapdoodles, a scrapbooker's dream store. I didn't go too hog wild, though it was tempting. I can't wait to play with my new papers, punches and stickers! Anyone want to come babysit so that I can make scrapbooks?

Quiz answers
I patiently waited, but only got 18 takers for my friendship quiz. I closed the quiz this morning. Here are the promised answers.

1. My maiden name is...Webster
That’s right, I’m a genuine D.A.R. My ancestors, which include the colonial governor of Connecticut, have been in America since the 1600s. Lexicographer Noah Webster is a distant cousin. My branch of the family moved steadily west over six generations and eventually settled in Montana.

2. In high school band, I played... Xylophone, bells, chimes, marimba, vibraphone, cymbals and tympani
Thanks to a student teacher who borrowed instruments from his university, I got the opportunity to play the more exotic end of mallet percussion during concert season. I was beginning to learn four mallet technique my senior year.

If you’ve ever watched the percussionists at a band or symphony concert, you know it’s a crazy dance for us, switching among as many as six instruments in one piece of music. Some other instruments in my repertoire include bass drum, cowbell, finger cymbals, tambourine, triangle, claves, cabasa, duck call and brake drum (as in the car part, played with brass mallets).

3. My best subject in high school was…social studies
I won an award at graduation for the highest academic average in this subject. The only Cs I ever received were in phys ed. I never took Latin, and if you recall my post on lab blunders, you'd know chem lab was not my strong suit.

4. In college, my extracurricular activities were...theatre, music ministry and literary magazine
Since I didn’t own an instrument, band wasn’t an option in college. I did, however, keep up the tendency to overextend myself in extracurricular activities.

5. My favorite movie is…Amadeus
Humor, intrigue and fantastic music…who could ask for anything more?

Emma is in my top 10. Waking Life is one of the most incoherent pieces of pseudo-philosophical dreck I've yet endured. Hunt for Red October was ok, but not something I'd watch repeatedly.

6. My favorite author is…Susan Howatch
Her Starbridge novels are totally addicting and her psychological approach is far more readable than Henry James’. (I’m surprised that some of you actually thought I liked trashy Danielle Steele novels. Egads.)

7. What advanced degree do I have? MJ, Master of Journalism
Creative writing was a good guess, since I did study writing at the graduate level at Michigan State for several terms. (It was an MA program, however, not MFA.) I was later able to transfer credits to Temple University’s journalism school.

8. Which denomination was I born into? Christian Missionary Alliance
Most reformed people would be find this denomination odd. For example, I was allowed to take communion without being baptized. And the CMA decided to not take sides in the Calvinist vs. Arminian debate, but ordains pastors of either persuasion.

We attended a Southern Baptist church (not Independent Baptist) when I was in high school. My parents were PCUSA when they initially returned to the church after decades away from the faith. My oldest brother was ordained Canadian Anglican. (He's married to a Canadian. I've never lived in Canada, just visited.)

9. My hometown is...Williamsport, Pa.,onetime “Lumber Capital of the World,” and home of the Little League World Series, which I have never attended. I find baseball very boring.

10. I got married at the ripe old age of...30
Slow and steady wins the race. Joel and I met in 1995. We were friends for a year, dated for a year, were engaged for a year, then married in December 1998.

ACK!
I taped Everwood on Monday night because I knew I would be too tired to enjoy it. I've become somewhat addicted to the show, I have to admit. It's good, clean entertainment with humor and touching moments in every episode.

We were watching the tape last night only to discover that all but about the last 5 minutes of the episode recorded. Amy was about to open a gift from Efrem that I just know would change everything, then BLAT the tape ran out!! Waah! (Please, don't anyone tell me what happened!) I hadn't completely rewound the tape before popping it into the VCR because some of the winter Olympics were on that tape. Grrr...

Joel reminded me that the WB replays the episodes on Sunday evenings. I'll just have to be in suspense until next week. I definitely have to buy some new blank tapes.

They grow up so fast...
Grammy took Claire to the doctor on Monday because she was not her usual smiley self. She was cranky and constantly chewed on her hands. The doctor confirmed what my MIL feared. Claire is teething at just 3 months old! Before we know it she will be borrowing the car keys.

Searching for joy

It is becoming a very difficult day. I’m functioning on little sleep because Claire was difficult to get to bed last night and she woke at 4:40 this morning. The first thing greeting me at the office was an e-mail from my mother begging me to come to Florida for Christmas. (It’s a trip we just can’t afford financially, physically or emotionally right now. I know I will have to say no. I hope one of my four siblings will manage to get down there sometime over the holidays.) Later in the morning, my MIL called to say she wants to take Claire to the doctor because her cold seems much worse. She’s very congested, irritable and not eating well.

I had to take a walk at lunchtime to pray and try to find my joy again. I didn’t find vigor, or a free chartered jet to Florida with an on-call family therapist, or a miracle cure for respiratory infections. But I found a dose of what I needed—snapshots of good things, evidence of God’s hand in the world:

The soft slant of autumn sun

Sparrows sharing a bit of bagel

Children charging through crunchy leaves

Hooves clattering on cobblestones as tourist carriages roll down Fifth Street

A neigh and snort and pungent whiff of manure

City schoolchildren jostling in a queue for the Liberty Bell, brown hands clapping, slapping, “See, see my playmate…”

A lone oak stubbornly clinging to its golden-orange foliage

A backhoe scooping dark earth

The majestic arc of a crane sweeping an I-beam into place

A concerned, head-tilted smile from a Christian co-worker who asks, "How are you?" and actually wants to know.

Just Bree and me
Which of the Chronicles of Narnia are you? I am


The fifth book written, you're the third book chronologically and take place during The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. You tell the story of the humans Shasta and Aravis and the talking horses Bree and Hwin, all trying to escape from unhappy lives in Calormen to go to Narnia.


Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.

Cool. This was a favorite of the series. As an equinophile, I always thought it would be amazing to have a talking horse.

Noise pollution
Thank goodness the piano tuner is done with all that plunking and sour notes and warping tones. I was jamming Leahy and trying to work, but after two and a half hours, his tuning efforts were really getting on my nerves.

Now we can have friends over to sing carols this holiday. Previously, we tried to hide the piano when company came, it was so out of tune. I inherited it when my parents retired to Florida, but since I don't really play (unless you count my George Winston-esque bouts of free-playing), I never got it tuned. The poor Baldwin has been moved three times without the touch of a professional tuner.

Let the berating fest begin...

"Sin is incurable by the strength of man, nor does free will have any validity here, so that even the saints say: 'The evil which I do not wish, this I do.' 'You are not doing the things which you wish.' 'Since my loins are filled with illusions,' etc."

You are Martin Luther! Yeah, you have a way of letting everyone know how you feel, usually with Bible quotes attached, and will think your way through the issues, although sometimes you make no sense! You aren't always sure of yourself, and you can change your mind about things, something you actually consider a strength. You can take solitude, especially with some music.

What theologian are you?

A creation of Henderson

My brother Jerry would be so proud! (He's an ELCA pastor.)

A housesitting tale

In August about five years ago, I agreed to housesit for my friend Delia, who at the time lived alone with two cats in a cute little Cape Cod in southern New Jersey. In exchange for keeping the cats fed and entertained, I got a house to myself for a week and a shorter commute to work (thanks to New Jersey’s mass transit system, which beats the pants off Pennsylvania’s SEPTA in every conceivable way).

It was a quiet week. Emma the cream-colored female hid from me most of the time, except at night, when she wanted to sleep with me. Leo the orange tabby followed me everywhere and required much tummy scratching.

The last night of my stay, I was awakened at around 4:30 a.m. by a strange noise. It sounded like something was mechanically wrong with the little fan running to keep me cool—a strange metallic clicking.

I turned on the light to see Leo pounce on something. It sprang about six feet and climbed up the wall. Brown, eight legged, bulbous body, about 6 inches long. Tarantella!!! I screamed so hard, I had a sore throat for days afterward.

As Leo in chased the huge spider around, I ran from the room, shut the door and jumped on the bed in the guest room across the hall. I tried to calm down enough to figure out what to do. No way was I going to stay until morning. Unfortunately, my suitcase was in the room with the spider. Could I drive home in nothing but a summer nightgown?

As luck would have it, I had undressed in the bathroom the night before, so I had some clothes to wear. I dressed, packed up all my belongings except those in the bedroom and loaded up my car, shaking.

Poor Leo was trapped in the bedroom, and I knew I had to let him out so he could use the litter box and eat. I grabbed the biggest bowl in the kitchen and went upstairs, ready to trap the tarantella if it came walking towards me. Having seen earlier how far the thing could jump, I was not too keen on facing it again.

When I got upstairs, Leo was crying. I opened the bedroom door just a crack, and he came out. The spider did not follow.

It was still too early to call the neighbor who was my emergency contact. Delia was slated to return home in the early afternoon, so I left a note on the back door and went home.

At home, I slept more, then called the neighbors to let them know a tarantella was loose in Delia’s house. I told them it might be an escaped pet from one of the neighborhood boys. They contacted animal control, who searched the entire house and never found the critter.

Delia brought my suitcase to me the next day, Sunday, and I picked through everything with a stick before loading it into my car.

An unsolved mystery remains. Where did the tarantella come from? How did it get in the house? Where did it go? Did Leo kill and eat it? Did it escape?

Now that I own a cat, I do at least know the source of the strange sound that woke me. It was Leo. Cats apparently have a “hunting noise” that sounds more mechanical than organic.

The day of my ordeal, I had an afternoon date with Joel. When I told him the story, he shrieked and jumped on a chair. He refused to set foot in Delia’s house ever again. (Since then, Delia got married and moved, so we are free to visit again. ;-) )

Delia has teased me long and hard about this whole incident. For a long time she did not believe that I had seen a tarantella. (This is how matter-of-fact types torment those of us who enjoy novels and imaginative thinking.) Why would I make up something like this? I asked. She knows how much I hate getting up early!

Recently she finally relented and admits that Leo probably ate the tarantella. *shudder*

Going once...
If you haven't already, please try my friendship test. Most of the answers have appeared on my blog at some point. Here's a hint: What might appear to be a trick question asks about my "hometown." By that I mean where was I born and raised, rather than my current home. I will post the correct answers later this week.

Sniff, sniff...
I have a cold. :-(

I guess I should expect to reap the consequences of doing too much yesterday: Women in the Church breakfast, role-play gaming in the afternoon and "play with the new DVD player" at a friend's house in the evening.

Ugh. I feel lousy. I think I will nap in Claire's room with her.

An anniversary
One year ago today, I had my first appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist. It marked for me the beginning of the end...of walking in the valley of a shadowy grief that's rarely discussed--infertility.

The miracle of my journey is that the Lord enabled me to conceive--probably just days after that consult visit--with no medical assistance at all.

Here's a poem I wrote in the midst of that stuggle to hang on to hope and faith in disappointing circumstances. It reminds me of God's faithfulness in dark times.

House is hushed

At night the house is hushed—
a dangerous peace of
too-empty rooms.

Nursery wallpaper
shrink-wrapped on a shelf,
hand-woven blanket,
tattered tag still attached
wait in dark for another day.

She sits on the shadowed bed
watching her husband’s
slumbered breathing
reading disappointment
in his exhale, inhale
undisturbed by dreamt-of
night-feeding cries.

Her world is a tangle of
ugly acronyms: OPK, HSG, PMS.
And dawn offers little
but the steady beep of failure
on a lavender thermometer.

The beauty of female anatomy
is not lost on her: waxing,
waning chemical surges
Peaks and valleys of warmness
and chill. Follicles rising
and bursting in splendor,
tumbling joyfully to a
warm, cozy womb.

It is a deep mystery.

Why ovaries are greedy
of the legions of possibilities
Half-children locked in darkness,
rocked in the lu-lay
of her thrumming heart.

Let my children go!
she cries in the night.
From safety to danger,
it’s the nature of life.
Empty rooms, empty
arms need messes,
need tears, need
bump-scrapey tumbles,
objects for our fears.

Let my half-children go,
Lord. Make them whole.

Show them light.

Copyright LWG 8-22-01

To know me is to love me
How well do you know me? Find out by taking my online friendship test.

A matter of perspective?
Earlier this evening while I was visiting a few blogs, Joel stood next to me and said, "Is that a gray hair?"

My reaction was to say "No way! No WAY! You're just messing with me. I don't believe it! Prove it!"

He yanked out the offending hair and handed it to me. I just stared at the silvery strand in total disbelief. I can't go gray yet, I'm only 34! My mother had very little gray hair at 60 and now that she's in her mid 70s still looks 10-15 years younger without ever touching dye.

I think I have been warped by our youth-obsessed culture. If I lived in another culture, I'd be psyched to finally be closer to being one of the venerated, wise ones. Instead I feel decrepit.

Am I Leopold?
I really want Claire to learn to play viola, and to start music training young. My fear is that I'll become like Mozart's dad Leopold and push her too hard. If Amadeus bears any resemblance to fact, the early pressures led Mozart to drink himself to death.

Am I naive to believe there must be some way to get a musical kid without warping him or her for life?

Regrets
I realized while strolling at lunchtime that I have never ridden in a limousine. It made me wonder what other fairly common things I have never experienced.

I have never...
...had a professional manicure
...drunk espresso
...owned a new car
...gone skinny dipping
...learned to speak a foreign language with some fluency
...lived alone for more than two months
...been drunk (I suspect this is no big loss)

Laurel is...
...such a pathetic copycat, I decided to run a googlism on my name too.

laurel is cool (yeah!)
laurel is important (so there!)
laurel is a broad (a dame, a chick...)
laurel is a friendly and caring community
laurel is far more than a summer job; it's an unforgettable experience in beautiful surroundings
laurel is one of the few plants mentioned solely in the new testament (Aha! I have a Bible name!)
laurel is poisonous to livestock; hence the common name sheepkill (how would you like being nibbled on?)
laurel is not to purchase cemetery plots here (Something wrong with my remains? Huh?)
laurel is the guild's highest award for screenwriting
laurel is fast growing
laurel is listening to thumping techno pop music on her headphones
laurel is a broke man who gets evicted from his home and then hassled by local thug
laurel is also the founding chairman of the women's leadership foundation
laurel is full
laurel is energetic
laurel is located in yellowstone county 15 miles sw of billings (This is actually where my name comes from, my Dad's birthplace in Montana)
laurel is fed up with stan hitting the town with ollie
laurel is not a preferred food for most animals (Except the darned sheep, see above!)
laurel is a cold hardy plant that requires a good deal of direct sunlight for proper development and bloom color
laurel is 8 to 25 degrees centigrade with an annual precipitation of 0 (obviously hasn't seen me on a bad day! I precipitate quite a lot. LOL)
laurel is also a contributing member of the kensington ladies erotica society
laurel is not responsible for personal items either lost or stolen
laurel is one of many cats whom laura brinser used to feed
laurel is soaked in this mixture while the witch chants over the mixture for 7 hours
laurel is under way and we invite you to become a part of this renewal
laurel is the perfect destination where both tourists and business travelers experience style and service that every traveler deserves (I guess hospitality is my spiritual gift)
laurel is not referred to as a "compleat artist" for nothing
laurel is seen as a symbol for peace and victory (How cool is that?)
laurel is different and has its own particular specialness
laurel is a plant that has been involved in my life for 5 years (don't tell Joel)
laurel is thick and whitish to light brown (Okay, so I don't tan easily. Sheesh.)
laurel is truly a resort for all seasons
laurel is the creator of wordmagic (well, I am an editor)
laurel is dressed in the thin nightgown given to her by her captors
laurel is undoubtedly a species that has been the most widely written about and that has aroused great interest at home
laurel is sure having a rough day today
laurel is an excellent idea

Lullabies
I think a favorite part of my day has become putting Claire to bed. She takes her last bottle at 9:30 to 10:00, then I change her into a sleeper gown and rock her to sleep.

The first few weeks into this routine, I told her stories about some of the contents of her room and where they came from: the rocker that my mom bought at an auction and refinished, the needlepoint pictures from Joel's grandmother and my grandmother, the cross stitch carousel horse I made during the 1992 winter Olympics, the Gainsborough print my mom bought me in London--for a nursery--in 1994, before I even met Joel. I want Claire to always know that she is part of generations of love and faith--and creativity.

Recently, I've been going through my musical repetoire. It amazes me how lyrics stick in my head after so many years--songs from grade school music class, high school musicals, VBS, college voice lessons, post-college singles group. Most stamped on my brain are hymns. Having worshiped in several denominations over my lifetime (Christian Missionary Alliance, Southern Baptist, Presbyterian Church in America), I've been exposed to so many kinds of hymns.

What riches we have as Christians! The songs that fill our minds are so amazing. What a joy it is to sing to my daughter of the "Deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free..."

The world misses out on such a treasure without this heritage. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird..." doesn't really measure up.

Here's my little pumpkin:



And no, we didn't drag her around to beg candy from the neighbors.

Boo!
One of the best things about where we live is the sense of neighborhood, especially at Halloween. Many of our neighbors have lived here for decades, and their children bring the grandkids back to Trick-or-Treat. It's like a slice of America as it used to be. We hang out on our front porches and chat, meet people, get to know families as they bring their costumed kids around to get candy.

Because of this tradition, Halloween is quite a big deal here. The decorating has become quite over the top. One neighbor across the street sets up an entire torture chamber in their front yard. Another neighbor sets up a haunted house in their first floor, which they invite all the neighbors to tour on Halloween.

Last night Joel got to participate in the fun for the first time since we moved here over 2 years ago, since he doesn't teach evening classes. He put on a handmade mask and sat out on the porch with Keats (our all-black kitty) to hand out candy. Some of the kids were a bit afraid of Joel, but seeing our silky kitty helped some kids work up the courage to come up on the porch. Our Halloween cat got lots of strokes and attention.

Claire and I joined him after her dinner bottle. She was cute as a button in her little pumpkin costume. I'll see if Joel can help me post pics of her soon.

What I enjoy most is hanging out with our neighbors the Coopers (who are Joel's parents' age) and hear about the history of the neighborhood, as well as recent goings on. Betty seems to know who lives in every house on the block. She knows who sold their houses recently, how quickly the houses sold, and in some cases, who our new neighbors will be.

One of Betty's sons and his wife chatted with us for a while. Her son's best friend from childhood, who grew up in our house, also stopped by with his kids to chat. He said that our narrow row house once housed a family of seven! I don't think we're ever going to populate this place quite so densely. LOL

Blog ennui?
Waaah. No one has commented on my blog in weeks. :-(

Capitalist excess
In my never ending quest to ensure my family never runs out of everything, I recently joined BJs warehouse club. Buying in bulk for me means saved time (fewer store trips) that can be spent with Claire, and saved money on things we buy most often, like diapers.

I have to admit, however, that these clubs are a showcase of American consumerism at its worst. People load their oversize carts with obscene amounts of everything imaginable. And while bulk buying should mean less packaging, many buy bulk quantities of things like snack packs of potato chips. I think of all the landfills that will be created to accommodate the little chip bags and it makes me feel a bit ill. Is it really so time consuming to put chips into baggies from one large 2 or 3 lb. bag?

I don't think of myself as excessively eco-conscious, but there are some things I do to reduce waste, like use a water filter instead of buying bottled water. I also wash and re-use zipper baggies from my bag lunches. Now I feel kind of extreme for using old rags for cleaning instead of disposable wipes that contain window cleaner, bathroom cleaner or furniture polish. Oh, and using a washcloth instead of disposable "facial cloths."

I'm wondering why the eco-warriors of the world aren't going after manufacturers for inventing these "convenience" items that are no more easy than the reusable alternative, and cost more and create more waste.

I also wonder if I should feel more guilty for using disposable diapers and kleenex instead of cloth diapers and handkerchiefs. I am a hypocrite too, I guess.

Catching up
A lot of time has passed since I last blogged. Part of the reason I haven't been online as much is of course because Claire was hospitalized last weekend. (The full story, with photos, is on Joel's blog.) I caught stomach flu from some germy person at Children's Hospital and was sick for a few days once Claire came home. Fortunately, she gets immunity to my illnesses from my milk.

Claire is doing great now, eating well and looking softer in the face and the middle. We hope to see more plumpness on her limbs in the next few weeks.

Her great accomplishment for last week was to sleep in her crib in her room at night, instead of the bassinet in our room. It's great to finally use the nursery we worked hard to furnish and decorate nicely for her. Also, I had been waking at every sigh she made, so now that she's in her own room I sleep through the night again. Joel is mostly uneffected by the change. Claire would have to scream for several minutes to wake him. Ah the deafness of dads....

Work, of course has been totally nuts. The magazine was already 4 days behind schedule when I returned to work on Oct. 14. Missing two days because of Claire's hospitalization and my flu only made it worse. I did some work at home that weekend--"working feverishly" became literal reality. LOL

It was one of those weeks in which I wish I had a clone.

The editor is IN
Wow, two posts in one day! It must be because I am back at work. With a lot of prep work yesterday, we were able to get ourselves ready and out the door with minimal fuss this morning. Claire even obliged us by sleeping through the night. What a great kid.

How very strange it feels to sit here eating my lunch, listening to a Clannad album and blogging with no worries of the baby needing my attention imminently. While it is refreshing to have some conversations with other adults, I do kind of miss the Wayne Brady show. ;-) Well, that and staying in my pjs all morning while I cuddle my little girl.

So far the day has seemed quite surreal. I feel like I've stepped back into my pre-pregnancy life, but with part of me changed utterly. The biggest reminder of that change was when I needed to slip off to a vacant office to pump some milk. Talk about feeling like a cow. :-p

All we can do...
Last night I finally got a hold of my brother in Fredericksburg. He and his family live about a mile from the Exxon station where the DC sniper claimed its latest victim on Oct. 11. Steve said that his kids have not had outdoor recess in over a week, and he doesn't feel safe letting them play outside their home either. My very active nephew Ian is going quite stir crazy (yep, the one who calls me "Aunt Whirl").

They have been avoiding the gas stations near the Route 95 ramps, even if it means going well out of their way. Not that they feel especially safe at any gas station...

"All we can do is pray for God's protection," he said. Indeed.

Lisping, stammering tongue

I just realized, when my babysitter Lisa's son tried to greet Claire, that I have given my daughter the same fate as me: a name that is unpronounceable by small children. Poor kid. She will be Kway-yuh until she is 4.

Somehow I had forgotten that Ls and Rs are the last sounds that English-speakers acquire. I don't think you can get much worse than Laurel for hard-to-say names among the toddler set. I called myself Low-whoa for the longest time. I have been called Aunt Low-ah, Aunt La-whoa, Aunt Whoa-Whoa and Aunt Whirl by various nieces and nephews.

My personal favorite of these is Whirl. I think it really sums up my relationship with my nephew Ian, who came up with the name. When we are together, we do things like pretend we are in a Kung-Fu movie, making crazy poses and saying "High-Yah!" I definitely whirl with him! LOL

Just one more week until I return to work. I'm both excited and scared.

One thing I was really dreading was dressing for the office because of my weight gain from pregnancy. Fortunately, I got birthday money and was able to do a little shopping for some nice office wear to get me through the fall. I think the big secret is skirts! A-line bias-cut skirts are back this year and they look fabulous on those of us who are amply blessed in the hips area. LOL

I feel really good about our childcare arrangement. Claire will spend Mondays with her grandmother who adores her. Tuesdays and Thursdays she will be home with Joel and me as I work from home. Wednesdays and Fridays she will be with a wonderful Christian stay-at-home mom who lives 5 minutes from here. She has a 2-year old son, worked as a teacher and is married to a surgical resident. She uses the same pediatrician as we do and lives across the street from a pediatrics resident and his wife who attend our church. We are really thankful for how the Lord has provided.

I'm scared about fatigue and being bleary and unproductive when I'm at the office. I also have concerns that Claire will have trouble adjusting to the new schedule. She's done a few trial runs of staying with Grammy--did poorly the first time and did well the second time. I just have to trust the Lord to hold her tiny little hands and help her feel comfortable with her new friends.

It has been a very full few weeks since I last blogged. Claire is just now coming out of a growth spurt in which she added nearly 4 inches to her length by eating constantly. I'm glad that the feeding frenzy is coming to an end because it was exhausting me.

Last night she actually slept through the night--from 10:45 to 7. I don't expect this to become a pattern immediately, but it is a welcome sign of things to come. Last week she was able to sleep for 5-6 hours straight if she tanked up on milk for 3-4 hours before bedtime. Last night she went down much more quickly.

I also turned 34 last weekend. We celebrated by going to the Celtic Classic festival in Bethlehem. Joel's blog has some photos and details. It was an ideal event for Claire's first all-day outing, because I was able to nurse her while enjoying all the fantastic music and ethnic dancing.

We made some technological advances recently. The first was purchasing a digital camera and image editing saftware. Joel has some of the results posted on his blog. I'm loving the image editor, which is a pared-down version on Photoshop. It has most of Photoshop's features at a fraction of the price. With it and MS Publisher, I should be able to dabble in graphic design again. It's what I miss most about my job at the accounting association where I worked for 6.5 years.

Our second advancement was to get DSL service. Wow is the Internet fast now! I need the faster service to telecommute effectively starting in less than two weeks. Since our phone company had a special deal, we decided the time was now to cease waiting for pages to load! Yeah!

Yesterday, Claire became a child of the covenant. She was baptized by Rev. Dr. Philip G. Ryken at the 9 a.m. service and was an absolute gem throughout. She was snoozing in Daddy's arms, but opened her eyes and was aware of what was going on when Phil held her and sprinkled the water on her head. She didn't cry or fuss, but promptly went back to sleep when given back to Daddy.

She wore a beautiful gown made by her Aunt Candace, ribbon-embroidered booties made by my mother, and a smocked bonnet that Joel's mother bought her. Phil mentioned that Claire means clear, bright or shining, and gave her a special blessing--"May you shine forth with the light of Jesus Christ."

After the service we had a little brunch party for her grandparents, godparents (an aunt and uncle), cousins and a few church friends. It was a long, exciting day for Claire. She was passed around, bottle fed and much fussed over. By evening, she just wanted some quiet time with Mommy.

It's a powerful thing to be someone's one, best comfort. Wow. Momhood is cool.

I've become more than a little stir crazy the past few days. Being cooped up in the house with the baby all day is definitely taking its toll.

More than one friend has told me the problem is my expectations rather than the fact the Claire likes to "cluster feed" (e.g. snack on and off) for 3-4 hours at a stretch during the day. I guess I am more of a "type A" personality than I realized. It makes me kind of crazy to not achieve things every day. I like to be active and to have a clean, tidy house. Even when I put Claire in the Baby Bjorn carrier, there are things I can't do, like scrub the bathtub.

Drat. She just woke up again....

God grant me the serenity to accept my dirty house and watch bad sitcoms while Claire plumps up.

I've just begun to be able to do something other than watch TV while nursing. This is a very welcome development, because my brain was beginning to turn to mush. All the morning talk shows cover the exact same things, with the same guests shamelessly promoting their new book/movie/album/TV show. Ugh. In the afternoon I got caught up on old episodes of Cosby show, which I always enjoyed when it was on in the 80s. It was nice to see an African American family protrayed so positively--two parents, both professionals, and well-adjusted, good kids.

But now I can read! Yay! I finished up a silly murder mystery my sister-in-law loaned me, Too Many Crooks Spoil the Broth. It's set in PA Dutch country, and the protagonist, who owns an inn, is quite humorous. The plot was kind of silly, but it was a fun read nonetheless, about my speed when I first got home from the hospital, sleep deprived and sore.

I've started a novel by Ann Patchett, Bel Canto about a group of people taken hostage in South America during a birthday party for a Japanese businessman the government is trying to woo to build a factory in the country. In the evenings, when I get a few minutes to soak in the tub to try to help my stitches heal, I've been reading Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott. It's her journal of her first year as a single mom. I'd never read any of Lamott's other books, but now I'm intrigued about her as I've learned that she's a beliver and came to faith after a long struggle with addiction to drugs and alcohol. Her writing is beautiful and her insights about some of the ups, downs and spiritual aspects of being a new mom really blow me away.

I put Mom on the airport shuttle this morning. I will really miss her companionship as I face the first week home alone with Claire. It was lots of fun to hear her stories of birthing and raising 5 kids over many decades, from my brother Tom, born in 1949, to me, born in 1968. Technologies changed, "standard procedures" in the hospitals changed, and "conventional wisdom" also changed dramatically over the decades. While Mom got to stay in the hospital for 5 days minimum after each delivery, she didn't have things like my electric portable breast pump. (It has been my salvation the last 10 days before we got a professional out to help address Claire's latching problems.)

I cannot speak highly enough of the noble calling of lactation consultants. I'd honestly begun to belive that my baby hated me, she was having such a hard time latching on. The success we've finally had getting Claire to feed from me again has given me new hope and enthusiasm for being a mom. Hooray for the pros!

Claire's birth story
Our beautiful new daughter arrived punctually on her due date, Aug. 17, at 2:16 a.m. Here's the story of my L&D experience bringing Claire Elise into the world.

On Thursday Joel and I went to the mall and walked our legs off, got the contractions faster, only to have them stop completely as soon as we got in the car. Most discouraging. We hung out with a friend that evening, relaxed, played Scrabble and figured the timing of labor was all in God's hands. After all, I wouldn't be pregnant forever, even if it was beginning to feel that way.

At around 2 a.m. Friday, I was awakened by a contraction worse than any before. I went and grabbed Joel's watch that lights up and started timing contractions, but tried to sleep as I was able. The contractions were 10 minutes apart. By 6:30 they were 7 minutes apart. I got up and tried to keep moving--showered, walked the dog, did some light house cleaning. They slowed down more than once, then I ate a little lunch. Powie! The contractions got much harder and were 5 minutes apart. I could barely stand they hurt so much. I made Joel eat lunch, then we headed for the hospital, arriving at around 2:15 p.m.

Check in was slow, and the monitoring process was like an episode of the Three Stooges--I seemed to have all the clueless residents tripping in and out. Once they got the monitor working, the contractions were 3 mintues apart and excruciating. They finally checked me at 3:30, I was 5 centimeters. Pretty cool! I thought it would take far longer to dilate that much.

Because monitoring had been so slow, I asked them to send the anesthesiologist over as soon as I got to a L&D room. They got my IV going, and he arrived to do the epidural once enough fluids were in.

I must say, epidurals are AWESOME! I felt fantastic as soon as it kicked in. The next few hours, the contractions slowed down only a little bit (from 3 min apart to 4), but I could barely feel them. :) The doctor examined me and said I was now 7 cm and 90% effaced.

While I was in transition, I actually napped a little. (Did I mention that epidurals were awesome??) I sent Joel to go eat dinner while my mother-in-law and the nurse stayed with me. During this time, my blood pressure was making folks a bit nervous. It got as low as 98/34. Apparently my pressure had been only 110/54 before the epidural though. I had no symptoms like light headedness, but they put me on oxygen for a while anyway.

The next thing I knew, the doctor examined me and said, "You're 10 cm, it's time to start pushing." (I had been asleep when he first came in the room. No kidding). "One problem though," he said. "The baby is face up. We will have to try to turn her through the pushing." That explains why my contractions had been so excruciating without drugs--I'd been in back labor all along.

We started pushing at 8:40. This lasted a very long time. I was put in 4 different positions along the way to turn the baby. I got some breaks when I needed to rest out a few contractions. We watched Friday slowly tick away, and we all joked that this baby wanted to be born ON her due date (Saturday), not one day sooner. By midnight, I was exhausted. We had succeeded in turning the baby face down, but the doctor decided I needed help to finish. My epidural was also wearing off on one side.

The anesthesiologist came to give me a booster dose of anesthesia, and the doctor told me to rest while he finished another delivery. We would proceed with the help of foreceps when he returned.

Over an hour passed, and I was able to recover some strength. A huge cast of characters arrived to help--the doctor, several residents, two nurses and the anesthesiologist. I joked "Party in my room!"

Six more sets of pushing and some deft turns and pulls by the doctor, and she was out at 2:16 am! The foreceps left no marks, and I didn't even have an episiotomy, just some tearing (2nd degree). It took quite a while for him to stitch me up, so I'm still very sore. We were all surprised that an average sized baby (7 lb. 5 oz.) could be so hard to get out.

Claire Elise is named in honor of her great-great grandmother, Clara Elizabeth. She looks like my family facially, but has Joel's long hands and feet. Joel took some film to be developed, and he hopes to scan and post some photos Tuesday or Wednesday.

Lady in waiting...
Day 2 of maternity leave. It feels so strange to be home and not deathly ill. Last night I had contractions that were 10-15 minutes apart for about 5 hours, but they slowed down overnight.

How about sending some labor vibes my way? I'm eager to meet my little girl!

Something's fishy
While nibbling on some Swedish fish (the gummy candy), I noticed they have a slightly oily sheen. Reading the package, I learned that these critters contain mineral oil and carnauba wax. Is this supposed to make them easier to swallow?

Alas, I'll never be a chemist
While I aced the concepts of chemisty in high school, I and my lab partner were total clods at application. I still blame the teacher, though, and here's why.

Mr. G. was one of those rumpled, bumbling sorts of high school teachers who wore polyester pants, wrinkled shirts and had crazy Harry Potter-esque black hair. His wife, a bossy, condescending type, taught eighth grade science in the same school district. I suspect she had done a lot to undermine Mr. G's confidence.

Early on in the school year I became convinced that Mr. G. was an idiot. I think it was the day he was doing calculations on the board and needed to add 2 and 3, came up with 6, realized that wasn't right, then reached for a calculator. How can you trust a man who doesn't know the difference between addition and multiplication?

One of our early lab experiments was to create hydrogen gas, collect some, then do a "pop test" to verify that it was indeed hydrogen. Mr. G. (who can't even add) told us to collect the gas in a test tube. Our lab manual said to use a gas bottle (roughly five times the volume). Debbie and I decided that Mr. G. had to be wrong, so we followed the lab manual's instruction. We easily collected our gas, then went to do the "pop test." Instead of the nice little pop our classmates were getting, we got a sonic boom. The sound echoed down the corridor, and Mr. G. went ballistic. When we sheepishly admitted to following the lab book, he just shook his head and said, "You girls!" I guess that was supposed to be the ultimate put-down.

Later in the school year, after months of no major lab incidents, we were to do an experiment that required heating a substance from above with direct flame from the bunsen burner. Mr. G. showed the class the technique at my lab station. We got set up, lit the burner, then Debbie gently lifted the burner to heat the substance. Well, the hose attaching the burner to the gas line disconnected and flame shot out of the gas line, burning Debbie up one arm. Mr. G. again went ballistic.

This time I stood my ground and told him that HE was the one who had loosened the hose during his demonstration, and that he ought to be more careful. He looked at me dumbfounded, told the rest of the class to check their hose connections, then had me take my injured lab partner to the nurse.

The really funny thing is, I took chemisty as an elective my senior year, thinking it would be interesting. Talk about going out with a bang.

Yet another getting-to-know-you list from Rick's blog. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery)

1. Saddest movie you've seen: Shadowlands, and any other movie in which men cry. Seeing men cry always makes me cry.

2. Funniest movies you've seen: Clockwise and Rat Race

3. Irrational fears you had as a child: I used to believe that if the light from lightning touched you, you would die. Many summer nights I huddled in the stairwell terrified during a thunderstorm, until my mom set me straight that the lightning itself had to hit you.

4. Was there a book you had as a child that you were scared to read because the pictures were scary? My mom's Raggedy Ann books had some pretty freaky creatures in them

5. If you could have one talent in the world, it would be... skiing, but I'm so afraid of heights, I could never even get on a ski lift. Guess that's why I admire those who can.

6. Language I'd most like to master in my lifetime: English, of course. After all, I'm an editor!

7. What is your favorite city? Philly. It's a great place to live. My second choice would be London.

8. What is your favorite memory about the city in #7? The first time I went to the 4th of July fireworks with Joel. We brought bubbles and entertained some adorable kids we'd never seen before. Then we snuggled on the blanket and enjoyed the pyrotechnics show. It was fun feeling part of a community and individually loved at the same time.

9. Do you root for the favorite or the underdog? Underdog. I think Christianity has hard-wired this preference in me.

10. Left-handed people are: Fun to date. You can hold hands and still eat, write, etc. (Yes, Joel is a lefty.)

11. Animal you'd most like to see on the endangered species list: Merlins. They are the most adorable bird of prey, and I've only ever seen one in the wild. Okay, it was actually my parents' back yard...But they are rare!

12. Milk chocolate or dark chocolate? dark

13. Movie with worst casting decision: Anything with Jack Nicholson in it. He gives me the heebie-jeebies.

14. Most interesting foreign accent: I love African accents (except South African). Russian accents are just downright sexy.

15. Rare, medium rare, medium, medium well, well, or just plain tartare? Medium well

16. Have you ever had fondue? Of course. It was all the rage in the 70s.

17. Something interesting you've learned listening to NPR: That I know tons more about cars and car repair than my husband.

18. Can you balance a redox equation?: I love those crazy things. They seemed so incredibly easy that it helped me shed my math phobia once and for all. Redox equations are my only fond memory from high school chemistry, because my lab partner and I were total clods when it came to doing experiments. But that's a story for another time...

A sad day
Chaim Potok, one of my favorite authors, died today of brain cancer at age 73. Here's a link to his obituary.

I was first introduced to Potok's writing in a freshman college course, in which we read his most famous novel "The Chosen." It was my first in-depth look at the lives of Jews living in America and was quite eye-opening, having grown up in a fairly homogenous mongrel-European protestant community in rural Pennsylvania. I had one Jewish friend growing up, but I never got to see what modern Judaism looked like in practice. Her parents were basically Russian atheists who got to the U.S. with help from the American Jewish community, then more or less ceased practicing once here.

I went on to read the sequel, "The Promise," as well as Potok's two books about a Hasidic Jewish artist, "My Name is Asher Lev" and "The Gift of Asher Lev." I also really enjoyed "Davita's Harp," which has a female protagonist, and "The Book of Lights," about a Jewish chaplain serving in the Korean War. I highly recommend all of his novels that I have read.

Prophecy
Last night Joel was flipping through a book on feast days. "Well, look at this," he said. "August 11 is St. Clare's feast day. We were thinking of naming the baby Claire. I think she will be born on the 11th."

I really like this quote by St. Clare (who started the order called the "Poor Clares"): "can a heart which possesses the infinite God be truly called poor?"

Any one else want to weigh in with birthdate predections? The doctors have estimated my due date to be Aug. 13, 14 or 17.

I've been reading an Orson Scott Card novel about the Biblical Sarai/Sarah. I've been especially curious to see how he, being a Mormon, would approach the text.

I've found it pretty good so far, so different from Anita Diamante's "The Red Tent," written by a Jewish author who seems intent on undermining Judaism--making YHWH a pretty nasty diety, and all of His followers either stupid or evil.

I've just finished a section where Card deals with the incident of Abrahm lying about Sarai being his sister while they are in Egypt to escape a famine in Canaan. Card handles the situation deftly, I thought, and makes Abrahm out to be far more godly than some commentators who wig out about the deception. I've also enjoyed watching Sarai's faith grow as she stuggles to be a good wife to Abrahm and deal with doubts brought on by the crisis of infertility.

Yet to come in the novel are the covenant and the Hagar situation. Should be intriguing reading!

Joel got Blogger working for me again. Yay!

I just remembered another funny incident from our first childbirth class last week. Near the end of class, we worked on relaxation techniques. To help our partners be able to discern how we moms feel when tense versus relaxed, the teacher asked us to tense up different parts of our bodies then relax them while our partners touched us.

When she told us to "tense up your nose," I had no idea what to do. Flare my nostrils? Frown really hard? It was all we could do to keep from laughing hysterically. Fortunately, the lights were dimmed, so no one saw my strange facial contortions.

I really couldn't see much use in at least half of this exercise. If I don't know how to tense my nose, chances are pretty darned good that I won't do so while in labor.

My boss is back! (Well, kind of). I spoke with him this morning. He and his wife and their newly-adopted son arrived in the U.S. at midnight on Saturday from Moscow. He's coming in to the office on Thursday to go over what he's missed the past 7 weeks and make plans for my maternity leave. Though he won't be back in full time until Aug 5 (or sooner if I deliver early), he will help with editing from home.

Relief is in sight. Yay!

Last night we attended our first chirdbirth class at the hospital. I immediately realized how much I prefer exchanging information with other moms and moms-to-be on Internet bulletin boards. First of all, since people in the class know my real name and what I look like, I couldn't be exactly forthright. For example, we had to answer some icebreaker questions.

What is your greatest fear?
Safe answer: "post-partum depression. You hear stories about people like Andrea Yates and it gets you a little worried."
Real answers: Being induced with oxytocin but never getting any pain medication; retching on every hospital employee who walks in the room; tearing like a cheap rag so that all bodily fuctions are excruciating for months after; having a hairy, cone-headed, cross-eyed baby with a malformed mouth incapable of breastfeeding who screams at the sight, sound or smell of me.

I never could have said such things in front of these other nice, earnest young couples. After all, I've worked so hard at keeping up a front of normalcy as I go about in the world.

But now you all know some of the contents of my twisted imagination. Fortunately, you only know what a Lego version of me looks like. Whew. My weirdness is safe for now.

Just to confound Rick, I thought I'd do two entries in one day. Waahahaha!

Joel helped me add a few more links to blogs. One addition, Great Scot, is the journal of one of my first pals from college, Jonathan Ferguson, who is in Taiwan teaching English. A particularly humorous aspect of this cross-cultural experience is the fact the Jon is 6'6" tall, trying to navigate in an environment of petite people.

The past two days, we had the privilege of hosting a Blog friend (in the flesh!), Tolle Blogge (aka Russ Reeves). Joel of course talked his ear off and dragged the poor man all over Philadelphia to show him our fair city. Just a warning if any others of you need a place to stay while in the area. ;-)

In a 24 hour period, Russ got to eat out and window shop in Manayunk; see La Salle's campus, historic Germantown, the Lutheran seminary, Fairmount Park along the Schuylkill River, Chinatown, Penn's Landing, and a 25-minute fireworks display; take several walks in Wissahickon Park with dog included; eat a big home-cooked breakfast; worship at Tenth Presbyterian and tour the historic building; grab a picnic lunch; eat in Rittenhouse square while listening to ragtime music; wander around a July 4, 1902 festival; and return to our house via a very circuitous route past Eastern State Pennitentary, Girard College, St. Joseph's Prep, north Philadelphia's urban renewal, and Deliverance Evangelistic Church--just in time to head out to Lancaster to settle in at the seminary to begin his week of research. (Whoa, that has to be a record-breaking run-on sentence if I ever saw one.) And he probably thought he was going to have a restful time away from this three small children. Not while Joel's Tour-Till-You-Drop is in operation.

Following the latest trend in blogdom, I have created myself in Legos™ (though you'll have to imagine an 8 months pregnant belly--that wasn't one of the options, strangely enough):

Since Joel has been brave enough to answer all these personal questions, I thought I'd be supportive and make myself vulnerable too.

Birthplace: Williamsport, PA (home of the Little League World Series).

Age: 33 (almost 34).

Birthday: Late September

Hair Color: Light brown, with blonde highlights.

How long/thick is your hair: Chin-length and layered.

Eye Color: Blue-green.

Height: 5'6".

Weight: I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. ;-) Let's say it will take some hard work to get a figure again after I give birth in August.

Personality: On the Myers-Briggs I'm a INFJ (Joel is actually an ENTJ, he misremembered when he filled this out).

Do you drink? I have rarely met a tea I didn't like. In my non-gestating-baby days, I occasionally had wine and girly drinks in which the alcohol flavor is subdued

Have you had your appendix or tonsils out? Nope. I did have to have general anesthesia to get my badly impacted wisdom teeth out at age 13.

Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Not since I was a baby.

Have you ever been convicted of a crime? Nope.

'Dream' dream car: Silver Jaguar convertible

Favorite place to visit: London (been there several times and still have so much to see)

Favorite soft drink: Root beer.

Adidas, Nike, or Reebok: No brand loyalty. I've not yet found a brand in which every shoe in the line is consistently a good fit. I have high arches and short toes, so I have to try 10-12 pairs to find something that's comfortable.

Favorite Blog: Lady Dusk, always lots of fun links

Favorite subject in school: Social studies and choir in high school, poetry writing and "fiction to cinema" in college.

Least favorite subject in school: Phys Ed.

Favorite movie: Amadeus. (Seen this 16 times)

Favorite book: I loved all of Susan Howatch's Starbridge books except the ones about Aysgarth, who is a scoundrel.

Favorite alcohol: Woodchuck Dark and Dry hard cider; Tom Collins.

Favorite sport to watch: Equestrian show jumping; snowboard half-pipe

Favorite sport to play: Swimming and hiking. I dislike games that involve airborne balls, as I usually get hit in the head every time. Pool and croquet are fun, though.

Anything different about you: I was a girl percussionist in high school. In college I sang in a rock band, did theatre and created a poetry group called the Janitor Poets (we all had custodial work-study jobs). I also know how to make balloon animals.

Tattoos/Piercings: Standard 1 hole in each earlobe.

Quotes: "Too much of a good thing is wonderful." --Mae West

Favorite ice cream: Chocolate marshmallow, Vanilla Heath bar crunch

Favorite color: Burgundy.

What's your bedtime: Usually around 10:30-11:00

Favorite TV Show: The shows I like invariably get cancelled. Used to really love "Stark Raving Mad," about a book editor.

Words or phrases that you overuse: "Really." "Actually"

Something that can be improved upon: Worrying less

What you want to be: An encouragement to others

The one place you would like to see: Austria

Famous person you have met: Chaim Potok, Alice Walker, Ed Rendell, Lawrence Welk

Favorite animal: horses

Are you too shy to ask someone out: No, but I've only asked people who didn't intimidate me

Have you ever thought you were going to die: Yes, frequently. I have an overactive imagination.

Do you believe you have a soul mate: I used to. I also used to believe in the Tooth Fairy.

Have you ever felt you were in love: Yes.

Do you pray: Yes, but in a catch-as-catch-can kind of way. I aspire to give it more concentrated attention.

Do you attend church: Yes.

Single or attached: Married and carrying his baby, so attached.

What are the first things that you do in the morning to start your day? Listen to local news radio for weather report. Use potty. Dress. Fix hair. Apply makeup. Eat breakfast with Joel while listening to NPR. Kiss Joel and pets goodbye. Walk to train station.

What are the last things that you do at night before going to bed? Wash up. Sit and read a devotional or listen to Joel read to me while cross-stitching.

What daily routine have you recently added to your day? Lower back stretches and Kegel exercises.

What routine do you wish you could get rid of? Two - three potty runs a night. Get this baby off my bladder!

What's the one thing that makes you feel like something is missing if you don't do it some point within your day? Time to myself to just think

So much for my conviction to stick with public transportation through June! I woke up and told Joel, "I can't be heroic any more." The heat index in Philly is supposed to be 105 today, and I could barely walk down the stairs in our house this a.m., my sciatica was so bad. So we will be doing my commute together until I begin maternity leave. Thank God Joel has an academic's flexible schedule!

For the first time in weeks, I actually felt energetic when I arrived at work. The 9-block walk from the train station to my office was more wearing than I'd realized.

I guess this latest loss of autonomy is what Vicki Iovine means in The Girlfriend's Guide to Pregnancy when she talks about "surrendering" to the process of growing a baby.

I feel important today--I had to make nice with the AMA.

In our little weekly e-mail news digest for docs (circulation 1,200), we reported on the AMA funding--or not funding--its labor union. Our story was basically a digested from of a Chicago Tribune story.

Lo and behold I got an e-mail from the AMA this morning saying our story (really, the Tribune's story) was inaccurate. I called the AMA guy, made nice, got the rest of the story, and wrote up a revised story all by myself. See my new story at http://www.acponline.org/express/2002/6/25/index.html#union.

Wow, I feel like a REAL journalist now. I almost never get to write anything, I just fix everyone else's stories. Okay, it's not exactly Pulitzer material, but it's satisfying to know that this little e-newsletter is being read by the powers that be, despite our low subscriber rate so far.

Wow, I hadn't realized how much time had elapsed since my last blog.

Some good news: things are looking far less frantic at work today and hereafter. I got the July/August issue of the Observer through editing and design and it went to the freelance proofreader today at noon. Monday, her edits will be input, then the pages will go to the printers.

I took care of some budgeting stuff for my boss for the new fiscal year and found I enjoyed it. I usually think of myself as a math midget, but I do have something of a head for basic business stuff. I actually enjoy doing our taxes on TurboTax each year. I'd like to get more aggressive with investing personal savings, but I'm kind of a coward when it comes to risk. I had picked up the "Dummies Guide to Personal Finance" this past winter, but haven't read too much of it yet, other than the sections about life insurance (a big concern with a child soon to be in the picture).

While I haven't had much mental energy for obsessing about the baby like many first-time moms-to-be, our little girl continues to make her presence felt. The activity in my womb seems to be of seismic proportions. Perhaps we have a future gymnast in the making. She still enjoys hanging out nice and low where she can squash my sciatic nerve.

Starting in July, I am giving up the commute by train because I just can't manage the 9-block walk between my office and the station. Joel will be teaching at LaSalle for second summer session and can drive me in before he heads to campus. I never dreamed that I'd feel so incapacitated by pregnancy, but the hip pain from sciatica has become quite intense lately. The twinges I had starting at 15 weeks are nothing compared to the pain level now (32 weeks).

I'm now moved from my nice quiet office on the 5th floor of the building to a cubicle on the 4th floor. The only plus is being next to a window. Otherwise, I have less storage space, less privacy and far more noise to contend with. Of course, this fact should make it easier to convice my employers that I will be far more productive telecommuting several days a week. :-)

Some of things stressing me out at home are beginning to be resolved. Joel has made tremendous progress with the remodeling project. Our future guest room looks far less like the Warsaw ghetto now. The new closet is framed and drywalled, the new ceiling is 75% finished, the new ceiling fan is installed, and some of the new wood trim is up. Plaster repairs continue slowly, because several layers are needed in places.

My in-laws decided against the house an hour away, at least for now. Joel was never too worried, but his parents are far more change-averse than mine. My folks have been fairly impetuous most of their 54 years of marriage, and have not lived in one house for more than 7 years. They often don't share plans until they are already laid and beginning to be put into motion. It has been a real learning experience, trying to figure out the "rules of the game" in my new family by marriage.

I'm not dead yet...I'm feeling much better. I think I'll go for a walk. I feel happeeee...

No I don't have the excuse of plague by association, as the poor bloke quoted above (Monty Python and the Holy Grail) for my absence from blogland. I've simply been swamped at work and not much in the mood to use a computer when I get home.

Why so swamped? I'm currently doing a job and a half while my boss is overseas for the next six to 10 weeks.

My boss and his wife left on May 26 for Moscow to adopt a little boy. They didn't have a definite court date when they left. They were getting so sick of being put off by the adoption agency (they were supposed to go in February to adopt their son), that they decided to go in person to help speed things along. A big bonus is extra time to bond with their son. The latest news from him is that their court date will likely be within the next two to three weeks, and they can return to the U.S. two weeks after that.

In the meantime, I will be putting together the July/August issue of the ACP-ASIM Observer by myself. Oh, and also move to a new part of our building while we're under deadline to lay out and edit pages of the issue. Isn't this just what every woman dreams of doing while seven months pregnant?

Back at home, my future guest room looks like a movie set of the Warsaw ghetto and my in-laws, who had agreed to help with childcare, are thinking of moving an hour away from us.

This would be about the time that the Hornes would all come down with scarlet fever, just to make a stressful situation more fun yet. ;-) Fortunately (providentially!), I'm feeling pretty good...just some sciatic pain in one hip. Joel is fit and trim and the pets are great. So, with God's help I will keep on muddling through.