this will be my last post here at HSB but don't fret, all you need to do is get into the habit of lurking here:

www.kristinacamp.blogspot.com

we will be combining forces there to regularly blog, post pictures, maybe a video or two if the internet is fast enough over yonder in PNG.  we might even fork over the measly $10 required to register a domain name that doesn't have dot blogspot dot com in it.  maybe.  i|I will be attempting to import all my archives there in the next litte while but I can't see that bothering anyone but me.  In any case, I think I have imported almost all the friend's list names.  if we missed you, please don't feel slighted, just let us know.  that way you are forced to leave a comment.  as they say in pigin:

ok, me go, you sta

NO,  I am not copying JenIg.  as a matter of fact, I believe I had this already planned out on Sunday; that I would post this family picture today, Wednesday.  She must have sensed I was going to do it and wanted to beat me to the punch.  Here it is.  Not the greatest, but the batteries (both of them) stopped working right after we took only two shots.  I had forgotten to wear any makeup and Jonam is laughing hysterically because the timing light on the camera was keeping the beat with the background music we had on.  I insisted on using this particular photo because Jonam usually looks like he would rather be adopted out to any other family than the one he has been forced to pose for a picture with.  Oh the joys of Holiday picture taking.

See how well you can gaze at the tree in all it's glory?  Poor, poor JenIg.  And Neal is sporting his "bobby just got shorn" hairdo because the night previous had a wee little girl calling him a "very bad man".  I guess he could look pretty menacing with his mass of dark curls, like Bob Ross ...

Here Jonam is standing behind me saying "awwh ... you chose the bad one!"  I personally love this one.

Tonight we had our homeschool drama group play and it went really well.  Neal was handy to add three extra rows of seating, and thankfully we had a number of mom's decide to bring "a little bit extra" for dessert after the show.  I cheered for bestsister's kids like they were my own.  Such sweetness.   I am, however, very glad to see this term end and will enjoy taking a HIGH Day break until the first week in January.  Now I can concentrate on the upcoming show at the VPP in town, and the murder mystery I am in on December 15th.  The life of a homeschool mom never ends, and neither do my pictures from our tree cutting ...

a view of some of the open fires.  you simply find an available one and get out your dogs and buns to roast away

each of the "boys" took turns cutting down OUR tree

first, the tree gets shaken so the excess needles will fall off, then it gets wrapped in twine to make it simple to put on the roof of your car (if you have a roof rack, which we don't).  we stick ours in the trunk and make the boys shove over one seat.

Neal bought me a sugar cookie while the boys went through the cedar maze because there was a heater in the tent and I was completely frozen by this time.  The icing was in a warming tray so it heated up my cold, cold hands.  yummola. 

I have no idea why people mistake me for my boy's sister ...

I love this time of year, and we will be working on our Christmas lapbooks soon, winding down for the holidays.  In twenty-one days, Neal and I will celebrate our fourteenth anniversary.  I love this man.

The day was perfect, including the occasional snow fall, the big, beautiful, story-book kind of flakes, and Harry Connick Jr. over the loudspeaker.  Mmmm, yes, the day was perfect ...

Neal carving his name into our bucksaw so Sloan's doesn't think we took one of theirs

walking toward the main building, where you pay your entrance fee

coming in with us?

going to have some fun before we eat

Jonam on the pony ... we were told the boys were on the edge of being too tall.  at least we had this time

Evan on the zip line.  hard to believe we had to force him to do this

I will post more tomorrow ...

my friend michelle tagged me back at the beginning of the month, and being the most excellent friend I am, I only caught up on reading her musings today.  nice friend indeed.  I really love memes though, so here I go.

8 things I’m passionate about...

1.          My family. This has come to include people I truly am madly in love with though not related at all, like michelle, the fox family, the posties and the smalls.  some people I just cannot do without.

2.  Jesus.  I love the quote from mr. bennett. "I'm not crazy about religion, but I'm crazy about the Lord.
   

3. ART!  I love to create it and analyze it, even let it make me totally crazy mental not being able to make it the way I want to.
   

4. music.  cannot abide a life without it or those who have incredibly bad taste in it.  was a proud moment the night I recorded my first 'for real' song.  I love to write the music and lyrics and nothing quite compares to the feeling you get when you hear a piece performed for the first time ever.
   

5. parenting.  sounds cheesy, but I mean I love good parenting and seeing those skills lived out in others.
   

6.  writing.  being published is a bit of a rush, though I am far too critical of my own things. 
   

7. making a decision and feeling peace about it.  you have no idea how much this means to me.
   

8.          Theatre.  am I allowed to be this similar to someone else?

Things I want to do before I die...

1. believe in myself, not narcissistically but realistically acknowledging my gifts and talents and not being afraid to just use them already, without feeling like I need to make excuses.
   

2. become a respected writer.
   

3. sell some more of my art and not think people are completely retarded for wanting to buy it (see number one)
   

4. get out of debt and stay out.
   

5. have a honeymoon. 
   

6. travel all of Canada.
   

7. actually meet my relatives in Europe.
   

8. live long enough to see my kid's kid's kids, although heaven is mighty tempting.
   

Things I say often....

1. that's retarded.  I know, completely un-politically correct, but this is MY meme.
   

2. I'm such an idiot.  I say this with far too much regularity (see number one in the second section).
   

3. for real.
   

4. that's nice.
   

5. my hands are freezing.
   

6. Jonam (or Evan) what are you doing right now?
   

7. (on the phone) this is Kristina
   

8. go away 
   

Books I’ve read recently...

1. Crunchy Cons
   

2. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

3. Star-Shaped Pegs, Square Holes

4. I'm Not Going to Get Up Today

5. When the Heart Cries

6. The Kite Runner

7. Reunion

8. A Fish Out of Water

Songs I could listen to over and over...

1. Dave's Party by Flight of the Conchords
   

2. Hey Delilah by Plain White Tees
   

3. Come to Jesus by Mindy Smith (love Mindy)
   

4. I Want You to be my Love by Over the Rhine
   

5. Who Will Guard the Door by Over the Rhine (anything on the Drunkard's Prayer album)
   

6. Night Windows by the Weakerthans
   

7. Killer, ok,anything by Seal (thanks to Erin Hussey)
   

8. most of anything off the farewell album by Watermark.  what I wouldn't give to wake up and sound like Christy Nockels tomorrow morning
   

8 Things that attract me to my best friends....

1. they don't let me get TOO carried away. 
   

2. they expect certain things out of me.
   

3. they actually laugh WITH me and not just at me.
   

4. they seem to get it most of the time.
   

5. they love Jesus too.
   

6. they excel in areas I do not.

7. they tell me that they love me and I can tell they mean it.
   

8. they know this is my favourite number.  well, they do now.
   

8 People who should do this Crazy Eights meme:

you will sense it ...

ok, so maybe I will attempt this with some regularity.  we shall see.  seems I am really not talking about homeschooling at all anymore.  maybe because we haven't done a whole lot of what most would call "school".  s'ok.  we will get back to more book-like stuff once all our plays are over, the first week of December.

this picture was taken at the start of summer, 1995.  we had just moved to Neal's parents place because we thought we had no resources for life on our own.  can you say we got married real young?  anyway, we drove our old, blue volvo down to the bluewater bridge for some fries all the while pondering our second year of marriage.  it wasn't looking so "mature" for lack of a better word, but little did we know that a message was being left on the answering machine; an offer of a paid co-op position with a company that would hire Neal on full-time seven months later, once he was done his schooling.  This was Jonam's first time at the bridge ... Neal was 22. 

this just about explains everything ...

You Are Mashed Potatoes

Oridnary, comforting, and more than a little predictable You're the glue that holds everyone together.

is worth a second glance, so I am posting this gem from homeschoolestore.com, where I have one of my curriculum guides for sale.  (I am sure you will glean something from it also)

WHAT’S WRONG WITH SCHOOLS AND RIGHT WITH HOME SCHOOL?

In our current educational system, almost every school, public or private, relies heavily on certain tools which actually hinder the desired result of education. These include the obvious, overcrowded classrooms, non-standardized curricula, under-trained and unmotivated teachers, the “bad guys” everyone points at. But there are other subtly destructive ideas at work. These include grading, grade levels and homework.

When a teacher gives a grade, be it for a test or a semester, the teacher has admitted his failure. Why didn’t every student learn the requisite materials? The students were there. Every “B” issued is the teacher and school’s way of saying “we taught this student MOST of the materials”. And an “F”? They’re admitting that they haven’t a clue how to teach your child that subject.

Many courses are graded on a “bell curve”, in which a certain percentage of students MUST receive an “A”, a “B”, and so forth. Who determined the percentages? What do you do with a class that is almost entirely “expert”, give some of them “F”s? How about the class that is generally sub-standard, whatever the “standard” may be? Give a percentage “A”s when they can’t sign their names? It happens!

Grades pigeonhole a child. Your student is “bright” or “slow” or “below average”. According to what scale? Who determines the criteria?

What’s wrong with Grade Levels? Children are tossed into a group because they are the same age, and supposedly that alone will allow them to study well together. But what happens is the fastest or brightest students “slow down”, so they don’t soar ahead of the group. Slower students become “remedial”. The “average” student, whatever that is decided to be by whoever is in charge, is the governor regarding speed of study.

And homework? When you, an adult, complete your eight hours of work, and you head home, do you want more work to do? If a school can’t get enough information communicated in a standard day of school, what ARE they doing? When should a student pursue his own interests? Music…theatre…sports? When are they allowed control over their own time, their own lives? Who decided it was alright for a school to become the vast bulk of the child’s activities? And don’t be fooled into thinking that it’s “number of hours spent” that determine an education. It’s not. It’s “amount of information acquired, understood and ready to be used”.

Home school places the control over the student’s education back where it belongs…with the student and their parents or guardians. It allows the student to study in a safe environment…something few schools can claim they create, not with a straight face. It eliminates the need for grade levels, or homework. It allows student and parent to design a schedule the student can succeed with. It allows the student to move at his or her own pace, without comparisons or stigma. It allows the student to avoid grades, when the home school system used is a wise one. And the big “problem” with home school, that much-overrated concern, “socialization”, is readily resolved by extra-curricular activities such as sports and music studies, and the fact that the student will have far more discretionary hours in a week!

Steven Horwich
Connect The Thoughts

we went in to town today to attempt to purchase snow stuff for the boy-o's who needed boots, gloves, touques, snowpants, coats etc.  we have yet to go back to Barrie to pick up the cool toboggan we bought at a garage sale this summer ... our good friends are storing it in their already over-stuffed garage.  it was a big relief to get it all in one day even though there is no snow around here yet.  it's coming ...

so far, all Evan wants to wear is the jacket hood. 

and for those of you out there who do not know the difference between a touque and a toboggan ...

touque

toboggan

I'm sorry ... to call a touque a toboggan is  j u s t   p l a i n  wrong.

next weekend, we will be packing our hotdogs, buns (literally and figuratively) and lots of hot chocolate to go and chop down our own christmas tree.  it's the most wonderful time of the year ...

Last week, on Halloween day, I drove to a local school and read to a classroom of grade 3 and 4 students.  I was dressed as an ice queen (that's what looked reasonable when I googled easy costumes at 10:30 the night before).  The kids ate it up.  I was introduced as an actress ... ooh, ahh, and boy did I act like one.  I read books about Halloween and all things autumn.

This morning I went back to the same school only this time I read to a grade 1 class.  This was going to be easy.  I chose all my favourite books from the shelf behind Neal's art desk and drove out there for just after 9 am.  My boys had woken up only minutes before I left but they knew the drill and actually seemed happy to get to a day of school.  As a disclaimer, I did NOT dress up this morning.  Maybe I should have.

The reading started out innocently enough, I mean, these are my favourite books, right?  What could possibly go wrong? 

Yah.

The first selection was I'm Not Going to Get up Today by the one and only Dr. Seuss.  It was going just tickety boo until I heard myself reading the following:

"In bed is where I'm going to stay.  And I don't care what the neighbours say!  I never liked them anyway."

Score one.  Ok, so I didn't write it (but the way some things go around here, I just might) but I READ it ... OUT LOUD.  Funny eccentric girl. 

Then I chose A Fish Out of Water.  Great story about a little boy who doesn't listen to the man in the fish store and totals his parent's house.  Ok ... moving right along ... Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.  Excellent.  So appropriate for the morning, as I had already told the children that I had slept in (thus the I don't want to get up theme) and hoped it wasn't going to be a day like the one Alexander had had.  So I read, with much enthusiasm and using multiple voices (have to use that English degree somehow every day you know) and that's when I heard these words being said:

"I hope you sit on a tack ... I hope the next time you get a double-decker strawberry ice-cream cone the ice cream part falls off the cone part and lands in Australia."  I kept reading on ...

"On the way downstairs the elevator door closed on my foot and while we were waiting for my mom to go get the car Anthony made me fall where it was muddy and when I started crying because of the mud Nick said I was a crybaby and while I was punching Nick for saying crybaby my mom came back with the car and scolded me for being muddy and fighting."

In reality, she probably took him into the car and spanked him, since the book was written in 1972.  She probably spanked all of them, as Anthony really tripped Alexander and Nick was being a bit of a brat.  So, I finished up my three selections all about disobedience and violence just in time to hear over the P.A. system

"Students, it is almost 9:40 and it is time for our classrooms to make their way to the auditorium for the assembly about bullying."

I have relatives in Australia ... maybe I should think about visiting for a while.

I don't usually do this, not because I don't think it is cool, but just because it would mean I would be expected to do it regularly, and Neal and I have decided I am partially fickle.  BUT ... I had a friend over this weekend for some scrapbooking, which I used to do a lot of, like 10 years ago, and have really done very little of since 2003.  She made me do it, and I am glad since it helped me realize virtually every picture we have taken since 2004 is on our computer, and not in print.  It was also really fun and kind of cathartic to take the trip down kid memory lane. 

Without further ado, I bring you memories one, two and three.  These jumped out at me as a few of my happiest days ...

Jonam and me, laughing ... something we do a lot

We had the priviledge of meeing up with our actor on Monday night, if only for a few hours, at Boston Pizza. 

He is always such a crazy guy to be around, and makes everyone laugh and feel a tonne lighter for it.  We were happy to treat him with dinner and a wee token gift of our love.  Turns out he had had a hard week, in many ways.  His co-star, for one, is in hospital recovering from an aneurism and it is not known for sure when he will be back "on stage" for the show Danny King of the Basement.  

Evan and I were able to see at least one of the shows, without Jonam.  Jonam had two shows of his own that same day.   I hope to post some pictures of that as soon as we can get our hands on some.  No flash photography allowed you know.

We miss Colin's antics, but are very happy he "chose" our home to share this past summer, and really hope he can return for another.  Guess we'll take what we can get.  We love sharing our home and our lives with people ... here are some snapshots of one of our favourite people ... here he is over-reacting, I mean, acting, I mean being excited over the late birthday present from us ...

If Colin's co-star is back on the road this coming week, I will take the boys to see another of the shows. 

He really is a great actor and a most excellent houseguest.  Too bad Randy and Sarah picked us instead of him.  I am sure we were not half as funny ...

Lyle Lovett is a big hit around our house, though most people we ask have either never heard of him or have no taste for his music.  Well, every time there is a family funeral, Neal and I sing this song, or a part of it ...

I went to a funeral.  Lord it made me happy seeing all those people I ain't seen since the last time somebody died ...

Neal comes from a big, healthy family, on both sides.  Campbell, Hamilton, Steele, Teeple.  It was quite a jump for me, having only one brother and 95% of my relatives in Europe, to enter in to family reunions and "cousins, cousins everywhere"(and this is still somewhat of a shock every time we leave the house ... we always see a cousin or an aunt/uncle no matter where we go).  I absolutely love it.  I always wanted a big family and I also wish we saw these people on a regular basis, but life is busy and not everyone shares the same interests and, you catch my drift.

Yesterday, we had the priviledge, to steal Carl Teeple's words, of celebrating the life and death of a great man, Lorne Teeple.  He passed away on Monday, at 11pm, and left behind a wife and six, grown, godly boys.  What a legacy.  The 'boys sang in three part harmony ~ a couple of good old gospel songs, just like their Daddy used to, for over six decades.  The whole generation, from wife down to great-grandchild, also sang over all of us ... the Doxology ... before the meal was served.  What a celebration and what a tribute not only to Lorne, but also to the Father most everyone in that room shares the saving knowledge of.

I could not believe the light spirit I walked away with.  I felt blessed, encouraged, and charged up to go another round.  We may not get together much, but when we do, and because we did ...

Lord it made me happy, seeing all those people I ain't seen since the last time somebody died ...

because some people are never satisfied ...

10 years ago.  let's see.  just about to turn 26. I was not  the person whose blog you would leave comments on, except maybe to say you were praying for me.  I was probably about as negative and critical as it comes.  I was also in the midst of some serious post-partum depression and Neal and I were having some, uh, difficulties.  On a lighter note, though, I had the friendship of an amazing couple, Jay and Tara, who stuck by me and wouldn't let me go ...  the picture below has Jonam and Evan feeding a lamb in Tara's sister's backyard (long story). not too long after this, I met bestsister, who looked past it all and helped me too.  the highlight was moving (though so briefly) to Pulaski Tennessee and falling hopelessly in love with her.

20 years ago.  I was 16.  not a good girl, and suffering with a bad bout of mono.  almost failed my grade eleven year because of it.  I worked at Shopper's Drug Mart, if I am not mistaken.  I certainly gave my parents a run for their money.  I often wore slippers to school.  I wondered if I would be an actress, an artist, a singer or a writer.  here I am with some of my youth group, ready to take freshly baked cookies to some shut-ins.  I never did up my coat that year ... not even in minus 25 degree weather.

30 years ago.  this was cute time.  I was all of 6.  I loved my school.  my "mummo" or grandmother, in finnish, lived with us, and I shared a room with her.  I would often fake that I was asleep because she would take my book out of my hands and proceed to tuck the blankets around me like a cocoon.  I felt safe.  my mom had just gone back to work the year before and I made sure she knew it was a mistake pretty much every day.  she has gotten over it.  so have I.  yes, 6 was good.  my brother let me wear his cub scout beanie for my birthday ... this picture is me maybe almost 8, not sure, but it was as good as I could find.  mom has all my pictures before marriage.  my brother Eric and me, at the cottage, in Parry Sound area.

40 years ago, my brother was blissfully alone, never once imagining I would be the answer to his pleadings to my parents for a brother or sister.  mwah, ha, ha.

http://www.petroliatheatre.com/

go check it out.

In the Great House of God there is a furnace.  This furnace affects the whole house, and your prayers fuel the furnace.  Your intercession is coal on the fire.  Your pleadings are kindling to the flames.  The furnace is sturdy, the  vents are ready, all that is needed is your prayer.

THE GREAT HOUSE OF GOD *  MAX LUCADO

I have been asked to ponder this question on more than just one occasion:  "what would happen if you gave up praying the very day before God had chosen to answer your prayer?"  Well, in at least one case I can answer that very likely my Dad would NOT be getting baptized this Sunday, three days after turning 63 years old, almost three years after being diagnosed with terminal lung and brain cancer, and coming to a sving knowledge of Christ as his personal Lord and Saviour.

How can I make such a bold statement?  Because I know my Mom faithfully prayed for that stubborn man for longer than I thought was necessary, or useful, or even sane.  She held hope long after I was done talking about it with her; holding on to this unseen cord of hope and belief that God truly hasn't become deaf so that He cannot hear.

My oldest went once to their home (at the time it was just down the road) when he was about nine years old, armed with the gospel.  He had had a horrible time sleeping the night before and announced at the breakfast table that he believed God wanted him to make an appointment with Granddad to discuss his lack of relationship with God.  He had all the Scriptures he felt the Lord had laid on his heart to share and was shaking in his little boots with nervous excitement.  So, with a quick phone call to my parent's place, off he went, giving my Dad exactly "three days to decide" if he would be for Jesus or against Him.  My Dad took a few years longer than three days, but he did phone to let Jonam know that he was carrying an awfully big burden that my Dad was releasing him from.  He thanked Jonam for being big enough to face my Dad, and let him know that he would "definitely think about it".

The power of prayer, in action.

So, on Sunday morning, at Dad's baptism (did I tell you how much he hates water?) with my brother and his family, my husband and boys, bestsister and her husband and kids, I have the privilege of witnessing another testimony to both the realness and the greatness of my God ... and this is what Jonathan, Cheryl and I will sing over the whole congregation ...

Darlene Zschech - I Will Never Be


I will never be the same again,
I can never return, I've closed the door.
I will walk apart, I'll run the race
And I will never be the same again.

I will never be the same again,
I can never return, I've closed the door.
I will walk apart, I'll run the race
And I will never be the same again.

Fall like fire, soak like rain,
Flow like mighty waters, again and again.
Sweep away the darkness, burn away the chaff,
And let a flame burn to glorify Your name.

There are higher heights, there are deeper seas,
Whatever you need to do, Lord do in me.
The Glory of God fills my life,
And I will never be the same again.

Fall like fire, soak like rain,
Flow like mighty waters, again and again.
Sweep aways the darkness, burn away the chaff
And let a flame burn to glorify Your name.

Fall like fire, soak like rain,
Flow like mighty waters, again and again.
Sweep away the darkness, burn away the chaff,
And let a flame burn to glorify Your name.

I will never be the same again,
I can never return, I've closed the door.
I will walk the path, I will run the race
And I will never be the same again.
And I will never be the same again.
And I will never be the same again.

I wonder how much it would irk my amazing American friends IF

every school day they realized they would have to think about how to properly convert their child's math program because, after all, it was written by a bunch of Canadians and it uses all the wrong measurements and the money is way off, but the pictures are pretty and the paper doesn't seem to irritate their son so they will stick with it, even though ...

Every couple of days in a lesson week, they need to investigate what happened on their side of the border while presenting the history lesson because, again, the history textbook they dropped in favour (favor) of historical fiction is not exactly mentioning their country much at all.  Ok, a slight exagguration ... there were two sentences about their nation.

Atlas adventures are a wreck, too.  How do you navigate a country so huge when the curriculum available only talks about the nation next door, and the Atlas itself has only one, very large, double page spread on the country as a whole, and you cannot even find where you happen to live on it?

That isn't to say there is nothing a homeschool Mom in Canada can do, it just means it takes a bit more work as a whole to find the books and resources to round out the stuff you can buy in the catalogues.  Unless you want to wait until the Public Schools get rid of a bunch of "old" texts, the commodity of Canadian curriculum for the homeschooler is comparatively curtailed.

No personal offence, but I long for the homeschool day when my kids can know just as much about their own culture and history as they do about America's. 

SO glad I took the time to catch up on blog posts last night ... thanks, ApplesofGold for the recipie.

Well, last weekend I had the privilege of singing with bestsister at our homeschool group's Encouragement Day.  The music track stopped playing off and on as we progressed in our singing, but we just smiled that knowing smile at each other and sang anyway.  It wasn't half bad, considering we had practiced acapella "just in case" we felt "led" to sing that way (just not in that particular song)

*sigh*  it really was a good day all things considered.  I believe I came away truly encouraged ... not so this Saturday.

THIS Saturday, I had a wonderful rehearsal time with some dear, old friends whom we never have the priviledge of seeing much anymore.  I am singing with them as my Daddy gets baptized this Sunday to come ... just three days after he turns 63.  He chose the song "I Will Never be the Same Again" and I hope I do it without crying.  I have not sung with this couple for many years; what a treat to be able to sing with three of my most favourite singers ever, within weeks of each other!  I also had a most yummy lunch with my parents after the practice since they live in the same city.

but then ...

We went to a goodbye party for some of Neal's cousins who are leaving in a few weeks for Africa.  It isn't for missions, but still there will be many opportunities for their family to minister there. 

To think that we had been invited both here and here ...

What wasn't so great about the time was the crazy conversations I found myself participating in.  Here is what I "learned about myself" (read: was informed of by a loving, honest in-law)

a. my kids are not being socialized properly
b.our decision to not attend church this summer, or to church on the beach or whatever I want to call it was just plain wrong, no matter what
c. we never should have allowed our summer houseguest/actor into our home ... and

d.some of the comments on my facebook are inappropriate (it was not stated whether I made the comments or others made them and I failed to delete them)

I have decided that attending this family function was a little like opening a fortune cookie ...  tasteless and filled with useless information

so, today, as we speak, my man is upstairs sleeping instead of making the money at work.  he is stresed to the max with an absolutely awful mouth, cancer sore the size of a dime, other festering cuts lining his tounge and cheeks.  this is stress from last week, compounded at the dinner table last Tuesday night when he chose to bite the inside of his cheek over a potato.

it had me on my proverbial knees yesterday afternoon, while the boys had a basketball class at the local community centre.  sometimes paying someone else to teach your kids is a fantastic thing.

so I am slowly working my way through the Blessing Handbook, by Terry R. Bone who none of you will have heard of because he is from Southwestern Ontario and that is ok.  In his second chapter, he talks about missed blessings ... an emotional deficit children carry into adulthood due to a failure on the parent's part to impart the affirmation we all know everyone needs.  my inner jury is out still on this one.  there was a time for reflection and prayer at the end of the chapter, and I asked Father to reveal to me any unmet need for blessing in my life.  nothing.  crickets chirping.  I just don't buy into the victim mentality ... even though I have many a reason to.

1.  my mom worked full time even though, precocious as I ONCE was, I begged her not to leave.  I begged her to babysit instead.  I would even tell her to leave my lunch in the fridge, what toys I would ONLY play with, what shows on tv I would ONLY watch, and assured her I would NEVER turn the stove on, open the door or answer the phone.  no avail.  but I am truly over it.

2. my dad was an alcoholic and not entirely involved in our lives.  not that he did not love us, he just didn't know how.  we all live by example, and if the example isn't there, well, you do the best you can with what you know.  plus he is British ... need I say more?  I had a talk with him many years ago about how I was needing his forgiveness for not honouring him as my dad, and he apologized for not being the dad he could see, now, that I had needed.  I don't regret my childhood or bemoan what it "could have been".  sometimes you need to see the silver lining, even if it takes 38 years of a faithful mother's prayers.

3. my dad was diagnosed with cancer of the lung and brain only a few years ago, just as he has come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.  that could make me really bitter or sad, but it doesn't.  my dad helped me through the initial shock and sadness and now we are all just in awe of his healing thus far.

4. one of my best friends moved over 25 hours away, and had her fourth baby without me.  my other best friend had the joy of announcing her 7th pregnancy to me.  this is all good, right?  except I cannot seem to know the happiness of a larger family, and there is no apparant medical reason for this.  we were also rejected when we tried to adopt three years ago.  so I should be really angry with God and finding new friends to comfort me, right?  I have been told lately that no one understands how I can be friends with the woman who is pregnant with number 7.  it makes no sense.  it must be ever so difficult for me.  please.  maybe I just really don't "get it" but I still have tea with her every thursday, and I still talk to my other friend in saskatchewan ... and when I need to cry, they offer a kleenex.  what is so hard about that?  they need to cry sometimes, too.

anyway, there is more I could say, but I wanted to end with this, because I wonder if it is connected somehow - to my man and his stress, and to me and my refusal to believe I have missed out on blessings.

chapter 3 of the blessing handbook.

there was a time in his life when Doug's destiny was in question because of a missed blessing ...

My Father died in Vietnam when I was five years old.  The last thing I expected was to receive a letter from him 17 years later.  But that is what happened one winter day when I was 22 years old.

'Someday, you will have to decide on a career.  Many well-meaning people will offer their sincere advice and you will undoubtedly be quite confused.  The choide of your life's work is equally as important as choosing a life's mate.  Before you can do either, you must decide what you are yourself, as a person.  As  the years go by, you will soon discover whether you are outward or timid, adventuresome or docile, ambitious or complacent.  It is no sin to be one or the other; but it is extremely important that you discover what you are - not what at some moment in life you may think you would like to be.'

life isn't always what we think we need or want it to be, but we can certainly choose how we react to it.  could it be that my man is in need of a change of scenery, and all that that entails?  and can I possibly decide to accept my family size without having to always like it?  is it, perchance, a possibility that adopting the happy heart I expect my kids to sport eventually replaces what seems to be a curse with a blessing?  can I really live on the flip side?

I think yes ...

I am trying to get up the courage to send these people some of my songs, the courage and the recordings ... it always helps for someone to actually have something to listen to other than simply a concept.  Today I want to post one of my favourite songs from the album Third Circle, called I Don't Know.

When I was a baby You held me close

When I was just a child You showed me the way I should go

When I'm old and gray you'll never leave me

You're right by my side

How am I gonna thank You, if I can't get my arms around You?

I know that You saved me, but I don't know, I don't know

How far You had to reach

I swim in Your deep love, but I don't know, I don't know

How wide or how deep

I know that You're good, Lord, but I don't know, I don't know

Why You're so good to me.

Funny how no matter what changes, some things stay the same.  Like apple picking.  Given the choice of simply purchasing a bag of apples at the store or picking my own, in the orchard, I will always choose the latter.  It just feels like the right way to welcome, officially, the autumn.  So, without further adieu, I post this year's pictures, sans korean student, but avec sarah's beautifully penned words (I hope she doesn't mind much).

Dad, Peeling Apples

The color of wheat
bread speckled
like the skin of a Golden Delicious,
freckles on top of freckles
and tiny nicks
from his knife, dots of blood
turned to brown scabs.
My father’s hands

have never changed. Every night
a different apple
skinned naked,

split and seeded without him
ever looking down, loving the fit
of apple
in the left hand, brown-handled
knife in the right.

He licks the tip of his finger
where the juice runs clear
and skewers a slice

for me, which I take

regardless
of whether I want
an apple or whether
the flesh has begun to brown
around the edges. When he is done,
knife set down and fingers wiped
clean against the legs
of his beige corduroys, I will take
the leathered back
of his hand to my cheek
and hold it there, begging
his weathered roots to spread
their soil-caked fingers
long and strong
as deep as the generations will go.

(By Sarah Small. Copyright 2000. First published in The Yalobusha Review.)

what a precious memory to share, with friends, across the miles.  this, too, I would forsake for the beauty of the mountains ... hills to call home.

If this blog were a twelve-step program, I would introduce myself this way:

Hi.  My name is Kristina and I am a gossip.  So, really, don't tell me anything.

The chuch we have been attending for the last month or so has a fantastic thing going on every Thursday night, for 40 weeks (hmmm ... significance in 40 weeks?).  It is called Celebrate Recovery and is based on the traditional twelve step program that has been proven successful.  My problem is not in admitting that I could certainly use some help "recovering", but, rather, in which group to join.

Do I sign up for the addictions group, since I love a good story as much as the next girl and am especially gifted, I find, in the art of exagguration?

Or, would I better fit as a co-dependant? I clearly have not mastered the practice of stopping a fellow gossiper dead in her tracks or I would have nothing to gossip about.  Talking about myself is not gossip ... it is boring conversation, no matter how much bestsister laughs.

Well, this morning, at our homeschool co-op group, I was talking to a friend about how sad she must have been when she had to recently put her bulldog down.  I told her how I cried like a baby when we had to "get rid of" our dog.  She politely asked me some details, which I proceeded to tell her, when she started to get a funny look on her face.  I stopped talking long enough for her to say "Kristina, I have to tell you that I have already heard this story and it was not said in a nice way at all."  Seems there is someone in our wee town that just doesn't like to say kind things about me and mine, and the stone that I rolled (in other ways) has rolled back on me.

I am still resigned to confront this other person as our family does know them, but it makes a good point.

Perhaps I can join the addictions group first, and when that 40 weeks is done, I can roll on into the co-dependant group.  I should like to think that I will have learned my lesson by then ...

not because I am proud, but because I really am finding myself with fewer and fewer ideas to blog about here (but, certainly, no fewer questions).  so I post a picture of one of my latest canvasses.  at least it is something.  sometimes I wish homeschoolblogger offered more bells and whistles ...

was not my best night.  In fact, upon reflection, I feel I looked a little like Carrie in the Exorcist ... not that I would ever have watched a movie like that, but I have heard about her character.  My swollen and red eyes are proof that I was emotionally disturbed and did not get the proper amount of sleep.  My head is throbbing and I am less than enthusiastic about being a homeschool, stay-at-home mom, with kids around all day instead of being able to send them skipping to some other institution so I can go back to my bed.

but then ...

I went into the bathroom to survey the facial damage and saw a gift that had been given to Neal and me some years ago, by a couple who are just plain "there".  Not there as in Carrie, but there meaning they can take it from us and they still offer unconditional love (and a kick in the pants when needed).  I could go on and on about them, but the point I am trying to make concerns the gift ... a daily verse flip pad of Max Lucado musings.  Here is today's:

We are covered by the Lamb, hidden in Christ.  When God looks at you, he doesn't see you; he sees Jesus.  And how does he respond when he sees Jesus?  He rends the heavens and vibrates the earth with the shout, "You are my Son, whom I love, and I am very pleased with you"  (Mark 1:11)

amazing.

Happy Birthday, Roger ... wish I could be there on Sunday.  Do you really know just how much you two mean to us?  I only pray I can someday be half of what you have been to Neal and me.

and Neal?  I am sorry.  Please forgive me.

I am working on it.

Yes, many creative things that I could blog about this particular morning.  One, that we had a voting on a Referendum last night and I awoke to the news that most of the Province has chosen Liberal ... boo.  Most of my county chose Conservative.  My first sentence is probably wrong, politically, as well.  At least I voted.

Two, my relative happiness with our "new" church is just that ... relative happiness, but I am resigned to the fact that one really must go somewhere, and this somewhere is not half bad, just not quite what we were looking for, and still a bit of a drive.  I have no idea what the Pastor thinks about homeschooling or those eccentric enough to do it, and proclaim to be artists at the same time.  I can speculate that he would be somewhat in favour of homeschooling in general as the church also has a private, Christian school attached.  There are a little less than 100 children who attend this school.  I always thought there were more.  Another private school has less than 50 students (actually closer in number to 30) and there is also a private Christian Reformed school.  The majority of homeschoolers in my area are Dutch and Christian Reformed.  There is a membership meeting in two weeks.  I am not sure I can decide that quickly and, at the same time, desperately want this whole situation resolved.

Three, my youngest just plain hates school.  This certainly challenges my enthusiasm and confidence in teaching.  I have said it before and I will say it again ... homeschooling is not for the faint of heart.  At least I still have his heart, and he is only in grade six.  We still have time ...

Out of approx. 87 families who are registered members of my area (which is pretty huge, geographically speaking) I only know of two who are currently homeschooling high-schoolers.  There is an online program some have chosen for their high-school students, but it is not actually homeschooling as it is a government-run program for those who, for whatever reason, cannot or do not want to be in an out-of-home classroom setting.  Parents do not check the work or assign anything, but help with homework just as they would if their child attended the local public high school.  We would like to homeschool through high school, but God may have a different path for us.  I wonder, sometimes, how eccentric is too eccentric.  You really do get pretty ignored in this wee town if you don't go with the flow.  Friends would be nice.

Four, and last, I leave you with this article my dear friend, bestsister, forwarded to me on Halo3.  I have not formulated an exact opinion on this whole issue yet, but would like to announce that the church we attend, currently, has added WII to the youth room.  The hope is that kids will move a bit and enjoy this type of action/sport gaming over Halo and more passive games.  Apparantly the good, old-fashioned idea of playing outside 'til it is too dark to be safe is just old-fashioned.

Some days, the pull to "the hills" is stronger than others.

yesterday I remarked to my husband "I don't think I have ever eaten thanksgiving dinner in a tank top before" and I was, apparantly, right.  the high peaked at 31 Celcius and, let me tell you, we had both air conditioners at full blast to be able to endure it in this old house of ours.  she may be three bricks thick, but when the temperature is in the 90's for too many days, the heat begins to seep through the cracks and you feel it.  yesterday's high broke the record set back in '77 ... and I probably had a tank top on that day too but I don't remember a whole lot about being 6.

no wonder I took a three hour nap on saturday.

so, it's back to the same old, same old today, with the addition of rehearsals tonight for Rumplestiltskin.  this time my boys are acting with me, and neal is going to help paint the sets.  we will be out three nights a week on top of basketball lessons once a week and french twice a week.  enrichment classes on monday mornings and before you know it, we will be celebrating christmas ...

and there is NO WAY I will still be wearing a tank top then.

so, with the incredibly, unseasonably warm weather, we canadians will welcome thanksgiving weekend, Monday being the official holiday, and think about swimming over sweaters.  some areas of ontario are even breaking heat records.  must be a trickle down from tennessee ...

my in-laws will be relaxing on their deck, by the lake where they live, and we will be spending some saturday sweetness with my folks about an hour away from here.  the rest of the weekend will be for our family of four; time to catch up and slow down for a while.

we will have the stuffing and cranberries, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie, apple pie and chicken ... yes, chicken.  I forgot to buy a turkey and have had, instead, a few chickens delivered by a friend and it just makes more sense.  this will be the first thanksgiving without extended family in a long, long time.

this year I am thankful not only for my dad, who will be baptized the first weekend in november (truly amazing that he is still here with us, sarcastic sense of humour and all), but also for my husband, who is the love of my life.  may our God, who has been ever faithful, continue to show himself mighty as we daily conform to his image by the renewing of our minds.  this poem is for neal.

I wonder what it will be like when we are old 

and we paint

together

on Wednesdays

will we paint on Wednesdays?

and will our art belie our age?

or will I paint flowers and puppies

and children out skipping?

will I have my hair cut short

just because I am old?

Our children will come

and bring their children with them

and we'll tell the same stories

again and again

but no one will stop us -

no one will say anything

they'll just listen

and be thankful

that they have us at all

And after they've gone

we'll sit at the table

together

alone

wondering how we got to this place

thankful to be in this place

where you still call me beautiful

and I still call you strong

where hours slip slowly

and memories mark time.

kristina campbell, august 25, 2007, onfirepublications                                                                                                            

my alarm clock is set to CBC radio and this morning I heard one of those comentaries that wakes you straight up out of a peaceful slumber.

the man on the radio was telling the interviewer how much of a travesty he finds public school lunchtime to be.  he believes that it is of the utmost importance that parents take the time to eat lunch with their children, picking them up from school to do so.  He remarked that although cafeterias are available in some schools (or at least a place to eat), this is merely a service that is offered and has nothing whatsoever to do with education.  education is the primary focus of the school, not eating, and parents should be available to eat with their children to help break up the day and maybe even hear a good "pirate story" (I did not hear the first part of the interview which I assume was a happy parent/child lunchtime example).

what an eccentric man to propose such an inconvenience.

at least it's something.

here, in the county where we live, this would be an impossibility.  the public school board decided it would be a brilliant idea to take traditional recess and lunch time away from the kids and, in it's stead, give two lunch/recess breaks per day.  the children begin classes at 9am and break around 10:40 until 11, then again at 1pm until 1:20.  I suppose if a parent had no other appointments and could really quickly speed over to the school, they could enjoy some time ... oh, wait, I forgot.  sorry.  children are not permitted to leave the school grounds until the end bell rings at approximately 3:20pm. 

scratch quality time.   add to the grocery bill and the problem of obesity since no one can really expect their child to eat just a "snack" at first break, saving their lunch until the late hour of 1pm.  instead, parents have to give little johnny TWO full lunches and hope he can wolf it down in the 5 minutes he is given to eat (because exercise is important and the teachers need some down time and no food is allowed outside, nor is extra eating time allowed).

oh, and did I mention that you are only given a couple of bathroom passes each day?  guess they figure kids can plan to be efficiency experts in that area, too.

 p.s. just caught sarah's what's grosser than gross tag ... and mine is borrowed from a kiwi friend of long ago ...

a cat who refuses to clean his nether regions and is, thusly, and aptly named "Sammie Stamper"

we met with the youth pastor last night and had a quick but good conversation.  he let us know that he wished more parents would come to him with questions and concerns (isn't that kind of the norm for homeschooling parents, though?) and said that if we wanted Halo 2 removed from the church we could consider it done.

that wasn't our intention, though it was tempting ... and he told us that that particular room is supposed to be locked during service.  apparantly some smart (aleck) kids propped the door open and were, then, gainfully employed in the worship of the video game.

hmmm.  my mom told me that had I not explained to her the basic premise of Halo 2 she was content to believe it was a game about celestial beings.

right.  welcome to the youth group I never had growing up ...

(and, for the record, Halo 2 is also said to have been "over" rated to mature, not teen as it would be rated now.  It is not my intention to get into a debate or onto a soapbox, I just know that I was surprised to find my boys playing the game at church, once the service had started, and that they were not alone.)

here is a letter my husband e-mailed the youth pastor at the church we have gone to exactly twice ...

D,

 I have a question (or questions) about the youth ministries, that I should have asked you about at lunch yesterday:

 When we picked up our boys from Sunday School (in the H2O room) when church started, we found them playing Halo 2, which we understand has a “Mature” content rating. We try to be cautious with which games we allow them to play but occasionally let them play some “Teen” games although they are technically not teens. I was surprised that there would be any games of this kind of content in the church.

I also was surprised that there were a bunch of kids in the youth room hanging out and playing video games when church had already started.

 I guess my question(s) is: Who monitors what games are at the church and would these be a part Sunday School and SONIC nights?

 Thanks,

So, can anyone explain to me how continuing to try church after church is better than just going back to the beach? 

seriously.  I have non-Christian friends who freak out over games like Halo 2 being played by kids the ages of mine. 

what does that say?

I went to a ladies night last night at the church we chose to attend last Sunday.  It was a nice evening of cheesecake, music and testimonies.  I was particularly interested in hearing from the momI wrote about earlier this week, desperate to make a connection at a new church with someone else who homeschools.  

Her testimony was excellently delivered but so was my acute disappointment.  She stopped homeschooling this year and her son is two years older than my oldest ... in high school ... too "cool", I am sure, to be interested in hanging out with 11 and 12 year olds.  Too bad. 

He is really all I need; this I know. 

Since my local homeschool support group has had to deal with some issues and I like the post from Walden's Wits from this morning, I decided to link to it.  I am really lax with my comments for the most part (just too lazy to take the time to log in and leave my thoughts, though I really do think them).  

food for thought.