Definition of "Long Day" (Part 2)

When Josh and Katrina both fall asleep in the van on the way home.

(Link to part one)

We need your help...

...in naming this little calf. She was born sometime last night, and she needs a name.


Ideas? Be creative! :)

To all the moms out there...

Happy Mother's Day!

Jess got accepted to PHC!!!

We're all very excited! Jessica has been praying that she could go to Patrick Henry College for about two years, and she recently mailed in her completed registration (below)


The acceptance envelope came in the mail today and was read with great rejoicing.

Jess

No, this is not the result of a electrical socket/tongue combination. Yesterday, Jessica went to get her hair permed, and the results are below for your viewing.



What do you think? Good? Bad? Hairdresser missed her calling as an electrician? We're all still trying to get used to it!

Dandelions

I defy the idea that dandelions are weeds. I understand that that is a popular position, held by many people (including my sister.) But I ask you how you can look at something so perfect that God has made and call it a weed! Dandelions are so pretty and cheerful-- I can't imagine a world without dandelions.

Hosanna and Joanna's Baptismal

This past Sunday evening, Hosanna and Joanna (along with two others) were baptised at our church. Here Hosanna and Josh are checking out the baptismal tank along with a church member, prior to going in.

Hosanna was tall enough to be seen above the sides, so here she is, getting ready to go under. The pastor and one of our deacons (who happens to be that other sound person whom I've mentioned a time or two...)

This is Joanna, coming out dripping wet!

My dad and mom did some special music, with my dad singing and my mom accompanying him on her alto recorder.

This is My View. I rarely have my camera with me in the sound system, so in my pictures, you don't usually see the sanctuary from my point of view.
The service made me remember my baptism. It was in August, a couple years ago, and it was the coldest creek I have ever been in! (As in roughly 185 degrees Kelvin, give or take a couple degrees.) It was so cold that I lost my breath and couldn't breathe until I staggered up on to the bank. Jessica, Annetta, and Lydia were also baptised the same day.

I would be very interested in hearing any of my blog readers' baptismal stories if you care to share!

Our Modes of Transportation Throughout the Years...

::by Jessica and Erika::

If you've ever had the nightmarish experience of seeing our family van rattling down the road, you've noticed that we are introducing to the world of mechanics a whole new level of "maintenance." You've seen us driving down the street, muffler dragging on the gravel (or noticeably absent), windshield wipers going berserk, door held shut with baler twine, seat belts permanently stuck together with chewing gum, and with roughly (what appears to be) 14 kids bouncing around inside. We put VeggieTales' Grapes of Wrath car to shame.

Getting into the van, one immediately notices the orange "Check Airbag" light flashing on the dash board. Not to worry, though; it's been doing that for the past six months. Persons sitting on the passenger side must pick the receiving end of the seat buckle up off the floor. Also, make sure when you shut your door that it latches. The outside handle sticks. Oh, another thing. The inside handle has broken, so you'll need to grab onto any available surface in order to shut the door. The back bench seat (affectionately known as "The Red Seat") is not for the weak of heart--or stomach. It is recommended that you duck whilst going over railroad tracks or other bumps, because smacking your head on the ceiling is a very real threat.

Even if you are not sitting in The Red Seat, be prepared for a bouncy ride. To the bafflement of mechanics everywhere, something [engine/transmission/spark plug/cylinder/gas tank/brake fluid/washer fluid reservoir/etc--we don't know mechanical terms] somewhere, somehow causes the van to jerk. Especially when driving up hills.

If you have the high privilege and distinct honor to drive the aforementioned van when it's dark, you will notice that the dash light does not work (with the exception of the "Check Airbag" light, which will continue to flash incessantly). This means that to know what speed you're going (an important part of driving) you will need to either 1) turn on the interior light, or 2) guess. This guessing becomes very exciting if you are driving past a police car and don't want to attract more undue attention by turning on your lights.

Another dysfunction to note is that the windshield wipers have their own personality. By this we mean that turning them off does not necessarily mean that they will stop. And they like getting stuck in the "up" position.

Oh, we almost forgot one of the most annoying features: the interior light likes to flash on and off, and will sometimes not turn off, even after the van is off. We think this is because the back doors don't shut properly.

And we're not even mentioning the red car with a blue hood, or the blue van with the orange door, or the brown van with the sideways seat, the tomato-can-patched-up-muffler, or the wired-up front bumper, or the..... [the list goes on]

However, we console ourselves with the knowledge that it could be worse. Whenever our Grandpa and his two sisters get together, a discussion of "the good old day" ensues, which inevitably involves hilarious stories about the vehicles their dad and mom drove when they were kids.

They laugh hysterically as they recall all of the run-down trucks and beat-up cars. One vehicle that will be remembered for posterity is the car that Great Grandpa William tied a log-chain around. Grandpa said the reason for this was that the body of the car was falling apart, and was, and I quote, "leaning south."

I (Jess) had remembered Great Aunt Janie talking about a car which had holes in its floor through which you could see the ground. When I asked Grandpa whether this was true, he said that "pretty near all of them" had that problem (amongst others). We can only imagine the result of driving on a dirt road in those cars.

Oftentimes, Aunt Janie, when riding in town, would duck down and hide when recognizing passing motorists. She didn't want her friends to see her riding in such a ramshackle contraption.

So it's not like our vehicles are too hopelessly embarrassing. At least we can't see the ground through the floor boards. Yet.

Oh, pardon me for a second--there's a car coming...gotta duck.

So...I got my permit yesterday

And if that isn't cause for a great migration from my surrounding localities to, say, Alaska, I don't know what is. [Jess: my bags are packed] [Erika: Ahhh...the sisterly love and support tis nearly overwhelming at times...]

My mom and I went down to the DMV this morning and got it over with. The lady at the desk asked me if I was getting my permit. I said yes, and she said, "Yeah, you have that nervous look!" We had to fill out paperwork, basically consisting of all my information from height to favorite sock color. Then I was handed a test to fill out which I did in such a manner as to end up passing. Then I had to get my mug shot early senior pictures (we're cheap) permit picture taken.

My mom drove out of town, and once we got to a back road (defined, for you city slickers, as a road which does not have a yellow line[s] down the middle, nor a white line down the side, and is occasionally dirt), she pulled over and suggested that we trade seats. On our way down, I had pointed out a possible problem to my mom. "I don't know which one is the brake and which one is the gas pedal, so you'll have to tell me," I had informed her. She had agreed that that might constitute a problem, so as I slid into the drivers seat, she told me quickly which was which. (That information quickly proved helpful--necessary, even.) She also showed me where the windshield wipers control was. Then I got buckled, turned on my turning signal, looked for approaching vehicles, shifted it into drive, turned the steering wheel, and applied the gas pedal, which is the little one on the right.

My speed home averaged around negative two miles per hour. Two vehicles came from the opposite way, and I had to try not to hit them. I think that's a law...They were the forerunners of the migration to Alaska. Several mailboxes, sensing impending doom, and sprinting as only a mailbox under impending doom can sprint, left the state as well. The only problem was that I had trouble getting the van to go straight, and I don't see why that would have affected Jessica as much as it did! Now, if the roads were wider, like 30 feet, my passengers (Jessica and my mom) wouldn't have minded so much. As it was, they will be getting out of therapy sometime this summer.

(For the record, I didn't go off the road once. I am very proud of me.)

Basically, that was it. We got home and a couple hours later my legs stopped shaking. Our mailbox still is, though...

Sunday Morning Quotes (and they've all been said at one point or another)

"Is [she] really eating potato chips, corn chips, and a banana for breakfast?" (Answer: "I suppose so...")


"Mama! Joanna is wearing socks and tights!!"


"Does this match?"


"Is that really what you're wearing?"


"Did you comb your hair this morning? Yesterday? Last week??"


"Do you think anyone will notice that my socks don't match? They're the same color...about." (Answer: "Probably not, as long as you leave your shoes on this week...")


"Let's see if we can make it to Sunday School this morning!" (Answer: "Ha ha ha ha!")


"Well, the van won't start..."


"Looks like we're stuck...I'll go get the shovel and see if I can dig 'er out."


"I can't find any clean socks for Josh and Katrina!"


"Who wants to dress Josh and Katrina when they get out of the tub?"


"Can I borrow your shoes?"


"Hey! That's MY coat!"

"Let's just drive off and leave them here!"

"One--two--three--PING!!" (This last quote is a variation from the book Ping, by Marjorie Flack, about the little duck named Ping who hates to be last on the boat when the duck owner calls "la la la lei!" We "ping" the last person to get in the van.)

Guess what I learned today...

Did you know that when you take your temperature to see if you have a fever you must first shake the thermometer so that the mercury will go down, so that you get an accurate reading? If you don't, you will walk around very confused for 3 days with a 101.5 mental complex when in fact you are 98.

I feel stupid. Don't rub it in...

*and I go blow my nose for the 1,587th time this week*

Easter 09

This past week was definitely busy in our household. Within the past 9 days, a portion (or all) of our family has been at the church 7 times. We had Awana, of course. (Watch for a post around the middle of May on our in-house Olympics...exciting!) Then, we had choir practice on Wednesday and Saturday for the Easter Cantata, and this necessitated a sound system person practicing with the choir. That person was me, and I'm glad to have gone because otherwise I would have been considerably stressed out Sunday morning. Friday was our Good Friday service.

But Sunday is where the elaboration begins. There was no sunrise service, so we picked up Grandpa and headed down for the Easter breakfast, which "started" at 9:30. I put started in quotation marks because I have yet to attend a church dinner which begins at the appointed hour.

After the breakfast, we had a short program, including the puppet team,

and special music by my dad, the pastor, and some of my sisters. Once the program was over, we had about a half an hour before the start of the morning service. There were roughly 95 people in attendance, which means the place was full. It looked good. Except for the fact that all the tall guys sit in the line of vision between me and the pastor, so it's hard for me to see if he's motioning for the music to be turned up. I'm considering installing a mirror system.

The "real" sound and video people didn't come to church (and I can *so* pick on them because they don't read my blog, ha!), so poor Annetta and I were doing that part of the show all by our little lonesomes. We naturally assumed they were being held hostage by hostile hooligans or something. (They weren't, by the way.)

After the service, we had lunch with some relatives and friends, had supper with our friends, and went to bed early :)

What did my blog readers do this past weekend?