Charlyn’s Web

We performed a civic duty the other day. We filled out a special census form that was sent out to specific households. Aren’t we the lucky ones to be chosen?

When we first got it, I put it aside and told myself to not forget to do it. Then we got a postcard telling us it was required that we fill it out and if we hadn’t received it then to contact them. I thought that they hadn’t given us much time and promptly forgot about it. Then they sent another whole census. Then they started calling.

I hate phone calls like that. I feel nagged and they annoy me no end. Especially when I am cooking dinner, which I was when the first call came. I was told I could do it over the phone and it would take less time. How long? I asked. How many in the household? 5. How many over the age of 13? Two. Then it should take about 20 minutes. I looked at my sizzling frying pan and decided I didn’t have 20 minutes and told them I’d fill out the form. Then I didn’t do it.

They called again on Saturday. No, I hadn’t filled it out. How many in the house? How many under 15? It would take 40 minutes to fill it out. Hmmmm, I sure am confused as to how long this would take. 40 minutes or even 20 minutes sounded like too long to be on the phone. No thanks, I’ll fill it out.

We filled in all sorts of personal information. What kind of house we lived in, how many rooms (Rooms must be separated by built-in archways or walls that extend out at least 6 inches and go from floor to ceiling.), how long we’ve lived here, etc. etc. How much money we made in the last 12 months– not last year as reported on our taxes but the last 12 months, which would be different and more difficult to figure out.

They were especially concerned with our ethnic/racial background. They asked it twice for each person, in different ways. We indicated that the children were our biological children but we had to fill in their ethnic make up. Their Father is mainly German, I am a miss-mash of Norwegian, German, and English and so I filled that all in three more times for each of the kids. I wanted to put Brazilian for one, Tanzanian for another and Lithuanian for the third but I envisioned the panic I would cause if ever a family genealogist got a hold of the information. Brazilian!?!? Where did that come from? So I restrained myself.

Then there was the statement and pair of questions that really puzzled me. It started with this statement:

“NOTE: Please answer BOTH Question 5 about Hispanic origin and Question 6 about race. For this survey, Hispanic origins are not races.”

Question 5: Is Person 1 of Hispanic, Latino or Spanish origin? (Lists different Hispanic countries)

Question 6: What is Person 1’s race? Mark ( X ) one or more boxes.

• White
• Black, African Am., or Negro
• American Indian or Alaskan Native
• Asian Indian
• Chinese
• Filipino
• Japanese
• Korean
• Vietnamese
• Native Hawaiian
• Guamanian or Chamorro
• Samoan
• Other Pacific Islander
• Other Asian
• Some other race- print race.

So if Hispanic origins is not a race, what is it? And what would a person of Hispanic origins put as their race? Why did it not suffice for the Hispanics to fill in their ethnic origin in the other area? Why wasn’t Hawaiian Native put with the Native American and Alaskan Native?

Those kinds of things confuse my little brain.

They just called to see if I had completed it yet. I told them I had done it now leave me alone! She said if they don’t receive it in 7-10 days they may call back. I can hardly wait.

Our Government- we’re here to nag you.

I settled in to watch my favorite Saturday British Comedy- As Time Goes By when I heard a rustling behind me in the kitchen. I didn’t think too much about it but I kept hearing it and it was getting louder, more frequent. I got up and looked about- expecting to see The Col. but he wasn’t to be seen. I figured he had gone into another room. But the rustling was loud now and there were sounds of metal clanking. I cautiously moved so I could see into the kitchen and spotted…..

The Col. kneeling down by the counter watching the plastic sack that was full of recyclable cans. You know, the main times I “lose” that man are when he is kneeling down. I always look up for him. If we are separated in a store, I look up over displays to find him and that’s always when he is kneeling down so I don’t spot him. But I digress. I said- is that you?

Yes, he had been moving the bag about but only because his attention had been turned there by the initial rustling. He thought something was in the bag- besides the cans. He grabbed a flashlight and was trying to make out what was in there. Then he uttered the horrible word- mouse.

I scurried back to the couch and cringed. He said “It would be easier to see if you would hold the bag.”

Ha! I know what would happen! The mouse would manage to leap through the holes in the top of the bag and sink it’s horrible fangs and long, sharp, gruesome claws into my hands! I wasn’t going to take the chance. I knew The Col. could fend off the attack of the evil beast. He is brave and strong, I am a weenie.

He managed to get a good look at it, without the help of his fearful wife, and discovered that it wasn’t a mouse after all.

It was a frog.

He released it outside.

Now, explain to me how a frog got into the kitchen, far from outside doors, and into the plastic bag full of cans.

Ring!

Groggily I looked up at the clock. What? 6:50 AM? (Shut up! I was still sleeping!)

Ring!

Who could that be? My friend who was coming to visit today calling to cancel? So early? The Col.’s work? The Col. himself was trying to sleep beside me, finally getting a bit after another hard night of not sleeping.

Ring!

I decided I had better get it. I de-glued myself from the bed and raced for the phone.

“Hello?” Silence.

Not a telemarketer so early? Part of my foggy brain said hang up! but silly me said again- “hello!?”

“Bonjour?”

Oh geez!

Background- when we first moved here we would get early morning phone calls from French speaking people.

“Parlez-vous Francaise?”

Heck no! Call someone who does. Oh, maybe not.

We’d try to help them out, explain they had the wrong number. If often sounded like an elderly person or perhaps a soused person. They would get so confused- how had they got this English only speaking Yank? It was odd; often being the same time of day- before 7 in the morning. We finally decided that maybe there was a radio show or ad that aired about the same time every day and people were responding to it? We puzzled about it- where were these French speakers calling from anyway? Finally, inspiration struck and we looked up the area code for Quebec, Canada. Bingo! Rearrange the numbers just a bit and you have our area code. Then the calls slowed down and stopped- we thought maybe the ad had stopped being aired? Or maybe the drunk old people stopped responding to it?

But this morning, she (it was usually a “she”) was back. And rude too! I explained she had reached the United States and she hung up on me. No ‘pardon me’! Harrumph.

What a way to start the jour.

Sunshine came into the bedroom as I lay with my eyes closed.

“Are you pretending to be awake?” she asked.

I contemplated the question- it seems an apt description of how I go through life- just pretending to be awake.

Yes, I replied.

” I thought so” she giggled.

No matter when we plan on having our Church’s annual Block Party and Vacation Bible School, whether it’s August (duh!), July or June it will be the hottest week of the year. Or at least seem like it. It never fails to be 110 degrees on the Block Party evening and at least that every day of the VBS. (We have our VBS in the evenings so we have enough workers.)

This year is different. We had our Block Party last Friday- it got up to 90 during the day but was pleasant during the evening.

Here is Pixie in the bounce house. This was a popular attraction for the younger set. The older ones liked the dunk tank. We gave out tickets as kids played the carnival type games and then they could pick prizes. The snow cones were also a hit but my favorite part?

We are now in full swing of our Vacation Bible School and the weather is still cooperating by being nicely warm. We have a tropical island/ Hawaiian theme this year so there are lots of people wearing loud shirts and leis. Boy howdy!And you should see our Palm Trees. I need to get a photo of them. I am helping in the “little people” class- ages 3 to just finished kindergarten. We have the largest class of about 20 kids- aren’t we lucky? Oh, excuse my sarcasm. I should be more excited about it and really, I do pray that these kids learn about Jesus and his love for us. Friday night will be family night when we talk about our week and then get to go eat ice cream. It’s not popcorn but it’s still something to anticipate.

Water. We need it to live. The “experts” tell us we need to drink 8 cups a day. Some people think that this is a made up number put out there by the bottled water industry. I see that number floating around on all the weight loss web sites. I think one of the main reasons for this is to get people to drink no calorie water as opposed to high calorie soda. But be that as it may- it’s out there being shoved down our throats whether we want to swallow it or not.

When I worked it was easy to drink water. I had a large cup on my desk that always seemed to be empty. I’d fill it up and then it would be empty again. Amazing. It was very handy, right there within reach. When I came home, it wasn’t as easy. For some reason the large cup didn’t get filled and set out where I would see it. I would often feel embarrassed because one of my friends would always have water with her for herself and for her kids. My poor babies would be dying of thirst because I didn’t think about hauling our own water with us (Bad Mother!).

I noticed that I was feeling thirsty in the afternoons and would realize that I was only drinking coffee. So I changed my habits. I measured how much my favorite glass would hold (2 cups exactly- convenient that!) and filled it up. I keep track of how many times I fill it up. When we go out to play at the park or just to town, I fill up water bottles. Now my poor children are hydrated. I feel sanctimonious.

When the homeschoolers meet for an afternoon of play and bible study- I am the one guzzling down the large bottle of water…. and drinking a few cups of tea. Others sit there with nothing and I wonder how they do it. Isn’t the condemnation of the converted awful? Of course, I miss half the conversation because the down side to consuming so much fluid is that it eventual will want out.

Now, please excuse me- I must go visit Henry.

Our young lady friend was able to visit us again. She was off on an adventurous, fast trip to the other end of the state to see what she could see before she headed home. She spent the night and before she took off in the morning, The Boy asked if she’d like to climb up into a tree and see the baby robins. She said she would and climbed expertly up into the tree. Thus scaring the baby birds into flight before they were quite ready to be doing such things. Then commenced the Great Baby Robin Roundup!

There were four to be put back into the nest. Of course, there was the examinations to be made.

Making the hand off. She would put them back into the nest. This worked great until Baby Bird #4 – the nest was getting crowded with four teenagers so they decided to fly the coop again! So we rounded them all up again. I use the term “we” loosely here, I was taking photos.

The Col. had lots of “help”. Isn’t The Dog pointing pretty? It’s the bird dog part of him coming out.

And, of course, kid help also. They were fascinated.

Standing watch so we don’t lose track of one of them.

We decided to just leave them on the branches of the tree instead of stuffing them all back into the nest. Mission complete!

Whew! May is (almost) over! It is always a crazy month around here and this year was no exception. May is a time when the grass starts growing, the weeds start growing, and, if you want it to grow- the garden planted. It’s lovely to see things start greening up, the flowers starting to bloom and the strawberries coming on. But- there is always a but, isn’t there?- these things also need attention from the humans in the household. Not just The Dog digging holes in the grass or the deer and pheasants feasting on the fresh grown sprigs.

Add to that- two birthdays, Mother’s Day, The Col.’s Annual Drill, lots of evenings worked, our church activities (partially increased due to the move), servers crashing, visiting Grandparents, and illnesses and the pleasant spring month of May becomes the month from…. well, you know where.

At this end of it I am grateful for the Blessings that May brings. Baby birds in the nests, flowers blooming, rain and sunshine… plus the joys of the two of us whose births we celebrated.

But I am glad it’s over, I’m tired.

Maybe June will slow down a bit.

Stop laughing!

Sunday was a day of new beginnings. It was The Boy’s 8th birthday. I had fond memories of birthing him- yes, they were “fond”- after eight years, I can say that. And we were having our first church service in our new building!

The Boy wasn’t feeling well. Somehow he picked up the cough/cold bug and didn’t even want to eat his waffles that morning! Wow. He was disappointed as he had been looking forward to running around the new building with his walkie-talkies trying to get lost- or not. He was perking up by the time it was to leave but he wasn’t ready and I wasn’t sure about spreading germs so he and The Col. stayed home and had some quality “boy” time.

The Girls and I went off to the big event. I stayed in the nursery (someone had to do it) but the service sounded like it went well. Then a well attended pot luck and friends to chat with.

I had my trusty camera with me. A couple of people said “I forgot my camera but I knew you’d have yours so I didn’t go back for it.” Hmmm. Am I getting predictable? I was tired and the basement was dark so I wimped out. Yes, people, I wimped out and set it on complete automatic. I made my Digital SLR a point and shoot. Sometimes ya gotta do what ya gotta do. And they turned out well, overall. I only managed to take 150. Thank goodness for digital! Since I am awful about doing anything with them once I take them I will copy them to a CD and give them to a gentleman at church who does wonderful slide shows. It’ll be fun to see what he puts together. I think I tended to take pictures of people I know, so there were reoccurring faces but I hope I took enough shots of others too.

So, I’ll leave with impressions that will hopfully help answer the question of “why a new to us building?” Here is the old building- taken during practice for our Easter production- not the best artistically but gives a good feel of the sanctuary. Remember, you can click on the thumbnails to make them larger.

New.

Totally different feel, isn’t it?

Once in awhile I get a phone call with a real, live person on the other end. Yep. Really, I do. This time it was my high school biology teacher who just happens to live here now too. She inquired if I wanted some hand me downs from her son. My hand shot up! Ooo! Pick me! Pick me! And to make it extra nice, she dropped them by. There was quite a bit there- apparently there had been a purging, or two, or three before she remembered where she had off loaded gifted the last batch. How could she forget a scrounge like me?

Some of the clothes are wearable right now, some will be ready to go this winter and some will be left in the “Futures” box for quite a while. They range in size from 10s to 18s. There are some nice jeans (without holes! Gasp! Apparently, there comes an age where the knees don’t get as much abuse), dress pants, dress shorts, shirts, sweatshirts and jackets. It is such a Blessing to know we have those things waiting for us in the shop loft.

I mentioned this bounty to my friend the other day. She said that if anyone had offered her size 16 clothes for her boys (who are around the same age as The Boy) she would have refused. She said it would take too long before they could wear them- her boys run on the small side. But as she looked at my 4′ 8″ almost 8 year old she decided I had made a good move.

Yep, some weeds just grow faster than others.