Well now, this is interesting.....

I took the short political quiz on Doctor K's blog and came out a *Libertarian :-D

This might well score points with certain college students, but could get me in trouble with the hubby, except for several factors....

• the questions seem skewed to turn out Libertarian
  
• I "disagreed" with repealing several of the laws concerning personal issues, so I guess I'm still saved
  
• I "agreed" on most of the economic issues, which many Republicans say they agree on, they just don't have the guts or power to act on it

I have no wish to live in a theocracy (in this age) ruled by humans. Sooner or later us womenfolk would lose the right to vote and end up wearing burkas.

Ha ha! Of course I'm kidding....for the most part.
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On another note, I took the kids to Pine Lake this afternoon, for almost four fun-filled hours of water goodness. And by that, I mean it was almost four hours, not almost fun.

Naturally, I have pictures to post of the frolicsomeness, except for the fact that BLOGGER IS ONCE AGAIN AN INCOMPETENT IDIOT BLOGGING MECHANISM. Which brings to mind the phrase, “You get what you pay for,” and yes, Blogger is free.

So, I pulled out the above quiz from yesterday, which I’d thought I’d saved to draft, except, once I waited for the many minutes it involved trying to load the “new post” page, I realized I hadn’t been able to “save to draft,” and had saved it in WORD instead.

Which just means I had to retry all those pages again, and watch the little wheels of dots turning clockwise and not finding the wanted page.

One should never gaze at these revolving wheels too long, or one could get sucked into a black hole. The reason you never hear this reported is that since they have all been sucked into black holes, these people can never give technical support a message, and so all we see on Blogger Status is that problems came up and have been fixed.

This is pretty much an example, in microcosm, of how large government works. Either that, or large government is a microcosm of how free blogging services work…..I haven’t decided which.

This much I DO know….dark scenarios demand larges doses of dark chocolate.

*the original result could not be duplicated, proving my last point....
 

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Time for a little serenity

  

Family Camp is over for another year and now the time has come to take a few deep breaths, rest up and regroup.


(this was taken at Prairie Bridges Park 'bout a week ago....I remembered it after looking at someone's photo blog :-)
 

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First-ever canoeing for most of our kids.
 Click on the picture to see a determined Ethan, Nolan thoughtfully waving goodbye to his maman and a nervous Trevor in Melinda's lap.

Many sunburns were achieved as well as paddling expertise.

A Giant Swallowtail on a Joe Pye Weed plant.
 I've always wanted to see these, but had to content myself with a picture in the Moths and Butterflies Guide, so yes, Ma is VERY happy to have spied it.

You just can't beat the feeling a little guy has when he can climb up on a big rock and look down on his mother.
 This and the first two photos were taken at Wilder Park, almost adjacent to the property owned by the church.

Slippy Slide fun on the back hill.
  At least I think the expression on Nolan's face is "fun."

Terry Jensen had a birthday today, which called for many "terry" gifts of terry cloth towels and even a terry cloth bib. Also, "teriyaki" beef jerky.
 As usual, Mr. Jensen is at a loss for words...

The kids choir (formed for the sake of doing special music each night of camp) does their rendition of "The Wise and the Foolish Man." At this moment, the floods are coming up....
  ...or, they could have all gone charismatic, I don't know....

Today is skit day, and Ardith plans to come up for the afternoon :-)

(I'm gonna need a long, long nap after this is all over)
 

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Family Camp 2006

The first full day of Family Camp.

A morning missionary story for the kids
 

In the afternoon, a training session of the local militia, thinly veiled as a skeet shoot.
 "Lock and Load, Baby, Lock and Load"

Leila Helmke proves she is more than just a pretty cook.
 And I would just like to say that no corn was hurt during the filming of this shoot.

One of the fathers brought a small BB gun. In a fit of maternal indulgence, Ma lets Nolan fire it.
  You know, I'll probably be sorry for that, some day....

Tomorrow's afternoon activity? Canoeing, otherwise known as Naval Assualt.

The evening's guest speaker, Pastor Gary Moore, regales the kids with his famous rendition of "Louie, the Lamb."
  It was well received :-)

Pastor Moore has a great way of keeping one's attention, using humor to the point that Nolan was getting a case of the giggles....which were finally cured when he fell into an exhausted sleep from the day's activities.

I know some mothers who don't want to let their kids fall asleep in the evening service, but when mine do, I'm guaranteed a chance to listen.

Very good day, despite the heat and Ma's reluctance to take a turn with the firearms.

Naturally, it would have been an excellent opportunity to have another picture for the blog, but you know how I loathe shameless self-promotion.

One has a duty to keep up one's humility, after all.
 

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We are happy campers

Because my school books have already started to arrive :-)

Well, I'm happy about it, anyway.

One little amusing occurrence....when I opened the package for the (used) book "The City of God," by Augustine, out fell three business cards, probably used as bookmarks.

THE BENEFICENT
Business Forms
"In God We Trust"

Muhammad Ali

President

:-D

So, let me know if anyone wants one...

In the meantime, off for another day of Family Camp.
 

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Why do people who have a lot to do....

....take a lot of breaks?

Because it is REALLY humid out there. It's SO humid you can sprout grass seed out of your pores. Mowing causes vast rivers to flow from one's being. I have three kids taking 20 minutes turn each, affording me a whole hour to cool off and keep at those 6 extra loads of laundry :-(

Got an IM from Sharon this morning, except I was out at the time. She now has wireless and is apparently really whooping it up, down there in Argentina. Also, she has a new email address so we can now be in better contact.

The daughter informed me that they are two hours ahead of us and per my request, the Spanish equivalent to "ma chère maman" is "mi cara mamá," which when put through the online translator comes back, "My expensive mother."

:-D

I'm sure your father would agree, ma chère.
 

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Self Portrait

  

Well, Family Camp starts this evening and runs through Sunday noon. Just a few more things to do:

• cleaning at the church, followed by more cleaning EARLY on Thursday and Friday before driving in for the morning camp sessions
  
• folding laundry and setting out little kids' play clothes and good clothes for every day
  
• washing up all the snowsuits and extra sheets that someone gave us and were laying on the basement floor when it rained buckets last night and seeped into the basement--I estimate 5 or 6 loads--and no, the timing couldn't have been worse
  
• mopping up the extra water
  
• fixing something to take for the carry-in meal tonight that kicks off Family Camp--right now, plans are to scrape all the leftovers out of the fridge for "Surprise Casserole."
  
• running over the skit for Sat. that was just finished last night
  
• mowing the second half of the lawn, which without the help of Derek, Kendra and Melinda yesterday, would have been worse
  
• trying to find something to wear that will fit on this corpulent frame
  
• quietly going nuts

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The Muffin Man

 

"Do you know da muffin man,
Da muffin man,
Da muffin man.

Do you know da muffin man,
He wivs on durdy wand." 

So, while the bread dough is resting for 15 minutes, and before I run in to town to get mower gas and milk, and come back and start on the lawn (hoping no unfortunate liquid mix-up occurs), and before I do 4 or 5 loads of laundry and get ready for Family Camp (day camp) and mow more lawn tomorrow, I'll leave you with Trevor's version of "The Muffin Man."

Here's hoping that everything gets done, Ma stays sane, and "Da Muffin Man" finds some clean land to dwell upon.

{Noon Update} Upon coming home from my mission of liquid procurement I no sooner entered the house when I was told the tale of two boys arguing over a toy....

Nolan: "He was groping for it..."

(Hmm....didn't know he knew that word...)

Carolyn: "No, he means griping."

*grins*

 

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Life in the Ditch

A bedraggled raccoon ruffian pops up from a rain-swollen ditch.
 
Three adolescents were playing about in the muddied waters. I'm guessin' this is a female, since she displays curiosity, while her two (probably) brothers practiced cuffing and growling in the weeds. When they saw me, they looked quite guilty and slunk away.
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Queen Anne madness
 

Ground Cherry - Physalis pruinosa
 
I'm not sure about that second part of the Latin name, since there are so many varieties of this plant.

Also called a husk tomato and cape gooseberry, though these are probably slight variations of this plant. The only thing I know for sure is that it belongs to the nightshade family.

While doing a little research, I ran across the name of Dr. John A. Meade, weed scientist emeritus of Rutgers University. Now I have a new plateau to aspire to.

But until that time, Here we have what sounds like a tasty pie, which comes from an old Mennonite recipe.

And speaking of Mennonite, did you know that the new winner of the world's most famous bicycle race--Floyd Landis--grew up in a Mennonite home? His parents had to go to someone else's house to watch him on TV!

A fine example of how there are only three or four degrees of separation between Ma and the Tour de France.....
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Mint-leaf Beebalm - Monarda fistulosa
  
Also called Wild Bergamot, this plant has a scent especially attractive to bees, thus the name "beebalm." Belonging to the mint family, the Indians used this for a number of respiratory ailments, as well as acne.

I'd go and gather some, but I've only found one plant on my walks. Funny how you can be approaching 50 and still get acne....
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Pretty little dragonfly.
  
I looked and looked on this site for identification, but for naught. One hates to quit after spending a certain amount of time trying, but a wife and mother can only take so much time away from the more pressing duties of eating chocolate and mowing.

Be my guest and find me the accurate name :-) Until then, I am labeling it, "Odonata prettius brownus avec yellowus abdominus."

This is Ma, encouraging everyone to explore the ditches of your lives...
 

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A short note

I guess it's high time I apologized to Ardith for passing on my height-challanged genes to her....

So sorry, ma chère :-D
 

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Ma's Consumer Product Marketing Review

It is once again time to point out a few products and their interesting characteristics, or as Ma likes to say, "Can you whine?"

I have a beef about bananas. They bruise. Now, this fine bunch below was in pristine condition when I placed it in the cart....
 ....and when I say "place," I mean "set into the cart with the tender care one exudes when handling a newborn baby.

(OK, I would never set a newborn baby in the large basket part...but that's beside the point)

Bananas should always be stored in the above position. This is how I place them in my cart, and how I place them on my table.

Any fastidious attention on my part is rendered moot, however, because EVERYONE ELSE IN THE STORE PLOPS THEM ON THE BRUISABLE PARTS!!

I give you exhibit "A," the creases in the bananas. These came from either the checker or the bagger placing them on the bottom of the cart, underneath 16 apples.

They never had a chance.

Next time, no matter HOW persnickety it seems, I am going to request they pack my bananas cor-rect-ly.

It's a small thing, but if we all work together, we can make a dent in this whole banana scandal.

Then, on my way through the baking aisle, I glimpsed these babies for the first time...
  
Has America wimped out, or what?

Are we a nation that can no longer unwrap the foil from packaged candy to make a pseudo homemade baked good?

Forget the fact that this little sack probably costs more per ounce than a bag of Hershey's Kisses....

Forget the fact that the company probably developed these things first, then made up the recipe that called for them, THEN they invented the original Hershey's Kisses....(a good producer always creates the need for a product, before creating the product itself....)

What really worries me is the word "unwrapped," reiterated directly beneath the first "unwrapped."

Do they think we are dumb?

Do they think we can't read?

Am I the only one here thinkin' mysterious persons from the future suddenly dropping in dressed in sunglasses and black garb??

*shivers*
 

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On-line Gossip

  
 

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The Jim-Bob Report

"Good evening. I'm Jim McDonald, and tonight we are pleased to bring you a new feature in the broadcast: 'Solution Revolution.' Many of our viewers have written us complaining that the networks report nothing but bad news. Tonight will be different.

And as usual, our man in Des Moines--Bob MacCackle--is on the cusp of this edgy new element. Bob? Why don't you introduce the folks to our new feature this evening?"

"I'd be happy to, Jim. But first, a little background might be in order. Back in the 30's and 40's, or as we like to say in the business...the Dark Ages...news broadcasting was in it's infantile stage: that of merely reporting the news.

As time went on--which it has a habit of doing--news broadcasts evolved from just the retelling of facts, to analyzation and interpretation, or as we like to refer to it, News Massage. And now, in an effort to be even more helpful to our viewers, we'll be bringing actual solutions to today's problems."

"Sounds pretty all-inclusive, doesn't it Bob?"

"That's right Jim. Not only will we be reporting the news, not only will we be telling people what to think a-bout the news, but we can now confidently tell people just what to do about it.....It's....it's just so beautiful, man....*sniff*..."

"There, there Bob, you emotional news lug.....Now, tell us what's on the docket for this evening...."

"Well, Jim, it's been clear for years that the female gender has it's ups and down, emotionally. That's a proven fact. In the past we might have simply reported, 'Studies show girls cry,' or 'Not only do they cry, but it's OK for guys to feel unnerved by it.'

Trouble was, nothing much could be done. But fret no more, O Male Sufferers.

You've heard of the early warning system for tsunamis, and an early warning system for global warming....well now....oh Jim, this is just SO cool....*clears throat*.....Are you listnin', ol' buddy?"

"I'm listening, Bob, as well as watching the clock...."

"Jim, in the interest of harassed men everywhere, the scientists of Micro-Mart have just released a prototype of their latest invention, the "Female Emotional Instability Early Warning System!" or F.U.S.E., for short."

"...F.U.S.E.? Bob, that doesn't quite..."

"Don't worry about acronym accuracy, Jim. It's all about per-cep-tion, man. Now, the basic idea is this...the man places a credit card sized scanner in his shirt pocket, see...and this will interpret the subtle clues from the intended female's facial expression and give a quick voice readout into the wireless earphone placed inconspicuously in the man's fedora...."

"Uh...Bob? Hardly anyone wears a hat anymore..."

"Oh...well....I'm sure the guys at the lab can come up with something. Anyway, if the card sees a raised eyebrow, it immediately goes to Yellow Alert, and whispers the message, 'You may be on shaky ground, try flattery.'

"...*sound of scribbling*...uh huh. Then what, Bob?"

"The next higher stage of alert would be Orange, usually indicated if the female in question starts to frown..."

"Now Bob, just to be absolutely clear, are we talkin' one side of the mouth, or both sides?"

"....*checks notes*.....That's one side, Jimbo. And the message given out would be, 'try more flattery, only this time, act sincere.' Now, a TWO sided frown automatically shifts it up another notch, to Red Alert. Red is not good, Jim. Not good at all. Do you wanna know what the man hears for Red Alert? Huh, Jim?"

"Tell us, Bob. We're all atingle here in the studio..."

" 'You have seriously blown it fellah. Whatza matter? Didn't you have no sisters growin' up?' "

"...I beg you pardon, Bob?"

"That's the message, Jim. For Red Alert...And then, if the scanner senses tears in one or more eyes, it will then declare a Purple Alert, or as they say in the lab, Apoplectic."

"Wow, Bob! That sounds pretty serious. Dare I ask what the warning message would be for Purple Alert?"

"Just this, Jim....'We're sorry. Micro-Mart's inventory scanner has detected female instability. Please step back before you get bruised.' After that, the guy is on his own, Jim. Back to you..."

"Thank you for that helpful report, Bob. And while we're talkin' solutions, we at the studio have been authorized to announce a few innovations of our own. To promote the new 'Solution Revolution' feature, the network is going to place an image you and me, Bob, on all the eggplants across America! How's about them apples, eh Bob?"

"Eggplant? Are you kidding? Purple is not my color, man......."

".....*turns back to audience*....and that's all we have time for, folks. Tune in next time when we show a clip of Katie Couric touring New York City and singing, 'The Wheels on the Bus Go 'Round and 'Round...."

"No wait, Jim. Purple makes me look fat.....!"

*fade to black*
 

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Sunrise on the Savannah

  

OK, so this is really Iowa farmland. For some reason it just reminded me of a savannah...
 

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Summer building project

Behold, our nation's Capitol
  
Assembled solely out of toothpicks and reconstituted marshmallow sponge....

OK. It's really a 3-D puzzle I picked up at Goodwill for a coupla bucks. And the amazing part? NO PIECES MISSING!

It's been so hot, that the kids were mostly staying indoors. And though yesterday's weather had moderated, after finishing a 3 day panoramic puzzles, Carolyn and Melinda pulled out this new one just before lunch.

With the help of all pictured, (except Trevor, whose fingers can be seen lower left) it was completed during the afternoon. (we don't eat lunch until 2, so yes, it fit in the afternoon hours)

Pretty slow going at first, then when Kendra pitched in things really moved along. Nolan did some good work on it too, which helped keep him out of trouble :-)

Left to right: Melinda, Nolan, Ethan, Carolyn and Kendra
 

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A little story......

....or how Ma single-handedly brought down the online banking system.

Once upon a time, a sadly ignorant but well-meaning Ma decided to check ye olde banke accounte before buying school books.

Naturally, she needed a password.

Now, it seems part of the password included a number that only worked on the num-pad, and not her keyboard. And it is just barely possible that she tried this several times before remembering that little fact....but alas, it was too late.....for as part of the "three strikes and you're out" system of password protection, the online bank account was now "locked up."

*snap*

Like a trap.

Poor Ma called the bank, where she received a handy 800 number. Upon calling that, she was shuffled to another person, who helpfully gave her a temporary password--THAT WOULD ONLY WORK ONE TIME--and would allow the sorry female to to once again access the system, thus enabling her to choose a NEW password.

Except, that the helpful person on the other end of the line could not complete the procedure, because the bank's webpage was "down."

At this point Ma was briefly filled with awe at the possibility that she had, by herself, caused some cascading effect that might have thrown the entire bank's webpage into electronic disarray.

The helpful person on the other end assured her that this had not happened. Probably.

At some later point in time, our hapless heroine received a call that all was well again. She could now proceed with the secretive ceremony of changing her password, which of course, did not work.

More calls ensued, followed by more tries, which were the antecedents to more "locking up."

There was much sighing and "woe is me's" which in actuality probably included a few "stupids," here and there.

A slow learner, Ma then called the bank a-gain to receive her balance information over the phone.

This quest was amazingly short and successful, after which the tireless libros buyer began her arduous job of filling the coffers of various online booksellers.

Ma briefly considered relaying the lock-up news to her husband--who was already having a bad day--and decided to go out and mow, instead.

The gas-powered engine of the grass-cutter started, despite that fact that it did not have a password.

-The End-
 

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Sharon made it

Loren received a call from Sharon last night, while the kids and I were at church, saying she had arrived safely in Argentina.

Thank you for your prayers :-)

Even though it was rainy and somewhat tolerable heat-wise yesterday at our house, down in Ames where Loren was delivering, it hit 100 and was absolutely miserable.

So I'm sure he would appreciate your prayers for today and tomorrow, as he continues to work a completely new route for this week.

Oh yeah, we've been getting up at 4:45 each morning, except for that one day we got to sleep in until 5:00...

He'll be living for next week, when he'll have vacation and time to work on the house.
 

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Life in the Ditch

I've gotten a lot of good information from these two sites....

Scouring Rush - Equisetum hyemale
 The stems of this plant contain silica and were sometimes used to polish fingernails and arrow shafts, and even scour pots and pans. So ladies, we can toss those emery boards! 'cause I've seen plenty of these babies in the ditch.

This is not a member of the Rush family, but rather the Horsetail family, which makes sense when looking at the Latin name.
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Blue Fescue
 I don't know exactly which variety, but they sell these as ornamental grasses in the nurseries, and since I've found several in the ditches, I'm thinkin' of starting up my own little business.
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This next one I just love....Green Bulrush - Scirpus atrovirens
 When mature, the green spikelets turn brown or lead colored, causing it to also be called the Dark Green or Gray-headed Bulrush. Used as a food source by Indians and Pioneers alike.

Who's hungry?
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Carolina Horsenettle - Solanum carolinense - more commonly called Nightshade
  Also called bullnettle and sandbrier, this plant is a relative of the Irish Potato.

Nightshade has poisonous berries, though long ago, the fruit was used as a sedative and antispasmodic to treat epilepsy.
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Button Snakeroot, or Rattlesnake Master - Eryngium yuccifolium
   I thought this was some odd mutant, but it's a bona fide plant that belongs to the Parsley Family.

Used for toothaches, kidney disorders, nosebleeds and a preventative for Whooping Cough in the olden days, it sounds like this cured just about everything. Oh yeah....the roots were used to treat snakebite.

I've only seen one of these to date, so the the rest of youse guys will have to fight me for it...but since it's close to the road it will probably get mowed off some time.

Isn't this fun? Join me next time when we discover how to feed a family of 12 with just three weeds....
 

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Safely Off

Though this could refer to "off one's rocker," it is meant in reference to Sharon.

By this time (7:45 pm), she should be in Atlanta, with a three hour layover until her flight to Santiago, Chile, and another 3 hour wait until the flight to Buenos Aries. Most amusingly, this is all courtesy of Air France :-)

Most regretfully, I forgot to take "goodbye" pictures at the airport.

*gnashes teeth*

And most appallingly, I took "several" wrong turns trying to get back on 235 from the airport. Which makes the wrong turn I took getting there not so bad.

"Oooooo, look! There's the golden dome of the state capitol!"

*appropriate gasps of delight*

"It's so pre-ty....!"

"Mommy? Is that REAL gold?"

(ME) "Ummmm......*looking for airport sign*......probably gold leaf...I don't know..."

"Can gold burn?"

"I don't think so..."

"Well, why don't they just make EVERYTHING out of gold, then?"


It was right about here I missed the second part of the double exit and was shunted back onto the main road."

(me): "Well, that was stupid! Why did they do that? Did they say airport on that sign?"

"You were supposed to turn back there, Mommy..."

*makes mental note to come by myself, next time*

Des Moines is such a fun town to drive through. They've parceled out the construction work so there is always something very MAJOR going on, with little orange signs pointing this way and that for the detours.

There may be new ways to detour, but there will always be little orange signs, strategically placed to demand as much last minute swerving as possible.

THEN, when it is time to exit the city, there are little blue signs that claim to tell you where to get back on the 235 bypass.

Bypass is a misnomer, because you never actually bypass the city, since you can only follow the signs so far. Either they give you the general direction and then have no sign at the entrance ramp, or they hide crucial signs behind decorative trees, in an effort to keep you in their city longer, gazing at their attractive foliage.

Des Moines' new motto: Sure, the roads are tiresome...but hey, how's 'bout that herbage?!"

*more tooth gnashing*

I HATE driving in that city. And I think the whole set-up remarkably apt, considering it is the seat of state government.

I guess that's all the whining for today.

*sigh*

So many rants....so little time.
 

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As the sun slowly sinks.....

 
....beneath the barbed wire, I am reminded that this is the last Iowan sunset Sharon will see until December.....because.....yes, tomorrow she is off to sunny Argentina!

Which is actually having winter, right now :-D

Loren has to work, but the rest of us will load ourselves into Moby Dick, the great white 15 passenger van and head for Des Moines around noon, tomorrow.

Des Moines, Iowa, home of the Des Moines International Airport. It's small, but somehow it just seems tiny.

So we would appreciate your prayers for safe travel: the van back and forth to the airport, and Sharon with flights to Atlanta, GA, Chile, and then Buenos Aires.

Thank you and bon soir....I mean, buenos nochos.

p.s. if the sunset picture (or any other pictures) do not appear, it is not my fault...it is totally, TOTALLY Blogger's problem/fault/once-again-breakdown-in-services.
  

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Life in the Ditch

(pictures taken over several days)

Elderberry - Sambucus nigra
 
"nigra" is Latin for "black"....the berries being a purplish-black color and a good source of vitamin C. The leaves and roots are poisonous, however.

Technically this is still in our yard, but it's close enough to the ditch to count as "life in the ditch" material. I'm trying to encourage regrowth, after much was mowed off during last year's wildflower bed mercykilling.

Common Evening Primrose - Oenothera villosa.
 
The Navajo mixed this with tobacco and smoked it for good hunting. I'm assuming this refers to buffalo hunts, and not...like, hunting for wildflowers...

Red-spotted Purple butterfly.
 
I actually snapped this in the yard, but I was coming back from my walk, so hey, I say it qualifies. I don't ever recall seeing one of these before....


White-whorled Milkweed - Asclepias verticillata
 
I've seen these for years and never knew it was a type of milkweed. It is said that some Native American tribes used this plant to treat snakebite. It is extremely poisonous to livestock, but since they don't find it tasty, that's not a problem.

Common Male Blue Damselfly - Enallagma cyathigerum
  (not certain if the term "common" refers to the blue damselfly in toto, or just the males :-)

And here I thought I'd stumbled upon some exotic, rare breed....
 

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Ma's Literary Corner

This excerpt is taken from "Nothing to Do But Stay: My Pioneer Mother," by Carrie Young, (University of Iowa Press: Iowa City, 1991) a recount of the life of a prairie woman of North Dakota in the early 1900's. (I said "woman" instead of "wife," since she homesteaded on her own for a while, acquiring land and being independent before marrying and raising a family in the more traditional sense)

And it might be appropriate for a Sunday, seeing how it concerns hospitality for the preacher...

Feeding the minister was one of the preoccupations of pioneer women. It was not as simple as it sounds. It was, in fact, a delicate procedure requiring diplomacy and exquisite timing. My mother and the other homesteaders' wives in the congregation spent a lot of time at it.....

....Because there were only a dozen families in the community, the congregation couldn't afford its own exclusive pastor, it was necessary to share him with three other rural congregations in contiguous townships.....Each of his parishes was at least ten miles apart. If he drove like a madman he could get in four sermons every Sunday. After his first service at ten A.M., a family in the congregation would invite him out to the farm for a noon dinner. He would have very little time to dally over his meal because he had another ten-mile drive to reach his next parish by one o'clock. After this service was completed, he had time only to shake a few hands as he walked down the aisle before he must leap into his automobile to careen across the prairies ten or fifteen miles to his third parish for the four P.M. service. A farm family here would invite him home for supper, and after that--logged with food and no time to digest it--he would drive to his last service at eight in the evening.

The services were staggered; we went to church at a different time every Sunday....

The first order of business at the Ladies Aid, which met once a month at the farm home of one of the members, was to work out the schedule for the following month. The president of the Aid would get out her work sheet:

"It says here we will be having the ten o'clock service on the fifteenth. Now who will take the preacher?"

Much buzzing back and forth. Taking the preacher is not a decision to be made without forethought.

"I could take him but I got relatives coming."

"I could take him if my boys get over the chicken pox. Do you think the reverend has had the pox?"

You better wait your turn until next month, Helga."

Gunilla finally decides she can take him. Then they go through it all over again for the four o'clock service. "Now who can take the preacher on the twenty-ninth?"

The matron who had elected to feed him on any particular Sunday had to stay home that day to cook, because there was no letting the minister cool his heels in the parlor; even a half hour's wait could ruin his day's schedule. So it was up to the husband to go to church and invite the pastor home for dinner. On occasion, when the husband wasn't quick enough about stepping out into the aisle to intercept him, another husband (whose wife had been absent from the Aid the previous month and had taken it into her head all on her own to take the preacher) would invite him. The first husband's life wasn't worth much when he came home that day, nor were negotiations peaceful at the next meeting of the Ladies Aid.

For the minister, of course, every matron threw out all of her cooking stops. By the time she had a Sunday meal on the table for him, this was as fancy as she was going to get. She had broken out her finest linen tablecloth and napkins, starched within an inch of their lives, and the table was laden from end to end with all the delicacies her garden, her pantry, and her considerable expertise could produce. It held her best preserves, mashed potatoes and gravy, two kinds of meat (always two kinds of meat), vegetables, homemade bread, not to mention a pie cooling in the kitchen. But when the time actually came when she would usher the minister in from the parlor and ask him to sit up to the table, she would pull out his chair, wring her hands, and say apologetically, "Now you will just have to try and make a meal out of this, Reverend!"

For several decades this same sentence was accepted silently by every minister who served the territory--and there were many of them because their average tenure was from three to five years. But one year a new minister came--a stern fire-and-brimstone man who was a veteran of many a missionary outpost and who brooked no nonsense; he was as bristly as the red mustache on his upper lip. And even he endured the sentence for many months of Sundays.

And then he must have preached a fiery sermon on hypocrisy, invoking both Old Testament and the New, pounding his fist on the pulpit, pointing a stern finger to heaven and then to hell, and shouting with such rage that the rafters shook. Then his voce dropped to a whisper, "And what about the good ladies of my parish? Their tables groan from the weight of enough food to feed a multitude, and they say, 'Now you must try to make a meal of this, Reverend!' "

For reasons that were never made clear in the minutes of the church council meeting, this particular pastor didn't last even the obligatory three years. He soon moved on to another territory--where perhaps the cooks were spartan and without guile.

(pgs 43-46)

The author's wit comes through, though not necessarily in an even manner throughout. But at just 116 pages, it's a quick read that gives an accurate glimpse of hardworking Norwegian settlers.
 

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Singer

  
 

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The Ma Side

 
Maybe it was the heat....or the farmer cutting down their shade trees. Whatever it was, they were hot. And suddenly, to the cows of Washington Township, baptism didn't look so bad anymore.

It was time, oh yes.

Time to explore their spiritual sides.... 
 

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House Reno

Just to give a little update on the outside work that's happnin'....

Loren and Jason extended the eave from the breezeway (on right, with door) all the way across the rest of the addition on the south side. Loren did half with Jason helping, then Jason and Sharon finished the rest.
 With the soffit and gutters on, it gives a nice finished look and should keep some of the water out of the basement.

When Jason went to do the same on the north side, he discovered rotting wood :-(
A couple of things were left undone a few years ago, and Loren's health deteriorated before he could get to them.
 So now they have to tear off some of the siding and replace some panels.

The chipboard is so soft you can just push through with your fingers...
 "ICK!"

On the dead branch of a nearby Ash tree sits an Eastern Kingbird, watching the proceedings. He's been hanging around, lately.
  
Kingbirds are one of my favorites. Very dapper and trim.

Now, Ma goes off to mow and perhaps sweat off a pound or two...
 

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Down Eldora-way

Thought we'd kill two birds with one stone and renew Kendra's permit while doing the weekly shopping.....except, you can't DO that in Iowa Falls, you have to go to the county seat, which is 15 miles away.

But, Kendra and I both agreed that it is a lovely old courthouse--the kind of courthouse every town should have. (it's too late for Butler County...)

*kicks self for not taking picture of courthouse*

ANYWAY, as we waited in line, the eye glances down the hallway....
 ...taking note of all the important offices and such.

Kendra was a good sport to pose in front of this anti-aircraft gun. (let me know if that's not what it is)
 Personally, I think she looks way too nice....

There was also a Civil War cannon on the premises.
 Believe it or not, I've had young kids ask me, "Mommy? Were you alive during the Civil War?"

These kinds of questions are usually followed by strange choking noises interspersed with stifled screams.

And as I was relating that at the supper table this evening, I said, "Or maybe they asked if I was alive during World War II...."

"Well Mommy? Were you?? "

*sigh*

There is obviously more work to be done.


Now HERE's the look of real authority! "Go get 'em, Ma!"
  (wow....Ma's really been "letting herself go")

(they wouldn't say that if they were in front of this baby....)


Here's what Ma likes to shoot....Yellow Coneflower, also called Prairie Coneflower or Gray Headed Coneflower. Ratibiba pinnata for Latin enthusiasts.
  The roadsides along highway 20 were covered with these beauties.

And, rumor has it that the Jim-Bob Report may be doing a feature soon...
 

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A letter to IPTV

Dear Peoples of the Iowa Public TV,

Please do not air excessive repeats of the Sesame Street television show. I am thinking particularly of the two-part episodes which describe the misfortune of Snuffleupagus and his ukulele.

While we sympathize with the pain Mr. Snuffleupagus endured when his musical instrument--inducing invisibility when played--became broken, causing him to remain "incognito" overnight, we do wonder whether three airings of this same story line in three weeks is necessary.

We are astonished at this reprise, since thousands of episodes have been produced. Also, we find it hard to maintain a genuine level of concern for Mr. Snuffleupagus when the same plot is played out, over and over again.

We know how it ends, and frankly, we find it very difficult--nay impossible--to "feel his pain" in such a repetitious manner.

A little diversity does not seem too much to ask, since we are forced to endure your agonizing fundraising efforts at least twice per annum.

With all due respect,

Ma Hoyt

p.s. if some of my kids ever need counseling, I will know where to send the bill...

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Life in the Yard

A close-up of the cheery annual Black-eyed Susan
 

Funnel Weaver or Grass Spider web. Of Phylum Arthropoda, Class Arachnida Order Araneae Suborder Neocribellatae Family Agelenidae. Let's face it, without vowells, where would the Latin language be? Slovak, probably.
 Not many people know that this was the original inspiration for the classic show from my era, "Time Tunnel." A novel drama which was VERY COOL since it involved both science fiction AND history. It was one of the few shows my folks allowed us to watch, and I'll just bet there are few around who have actually seen it.

As a matter of trivia, one of the original cast members (James Darren) went on to play a holographic lounge singer on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. The coolness continues.

Another purty lil' web found in the dewy grass.
  These and the call of the cicada--which Carolyn heard yesterday--leave me a little melancholy, for they are signs that summer is on the wane....

Ma took on the dangerous job of eliminating a small forest of Ragweed around a fence. Long pants and long sleeves are required, since I've suffered ugly raised welts when dealing with these monsters in the past.
 I did get a cut on my lip, from wiping the sweat with my glove....now I know that the little black tab that holds the wrist strap is sharp. If it causes a scar I plan to tell people I got into a bar fight...

Other injuries incurred were a bruised right wrist (have NO idea how that happened) and "several" scratches to the stomach from leaning over the barbed wire fence. I would have posted a picture of the last, but didn't want people to die of fright from glimpsing stomach fat...

Regardez! *in hushed tones* "Many weeds gave their lives to behold this fence..."
 

Loverly lily from morning stroll
  
 

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