A blog I just found

Since I am still technologically a toddler, I do not know how to link to a website other than just typing out the address of it. Maybe Superguy can show me how, and then I will graduate to technology preschool. (I wonder if there is something the equivalent of learning to hold the scissors properly, except for computers?)

Anyway, in my quest to learn more about the fine art of cooking, housekeeping, and generally being a post- postmodern woman, I came across this neat blog, www.thepioneerwoman.com

What caught my eye is the recipes. All women's blogs contain recipes, except maybe for women who can't stand cooking, in which case I haven't run across them. She shows you with beautiful color photos exactly what she does for each step of the recipe, and the results look delicious.

Plus, her story is too too impossibly romantic. You'll have to read it, AMM.

The day of rest

Can we find a lovelier example of Sunday rest? This truly was not posed -- they were all asleep.

(And the large circular blue thing is the top of a punching bag. Why it was there? don't know.)

Bread -- for a real family

We love homemade bread, and I love to make it. So today, being such a mild summer day, proved the perfect chance to try a recipe called "Batch Bread." It is recommended for a large family, a small restaurant, or a boarding house! I feel that we qualify. Note that the dough -- which weighed more than five pounds, which I know because I added an entire five-pound bag of flour and then some) -- did its main rising in my Ginormous Family Dutch Oven ("heavy enough to kill an intruder!").

Updates will appear on the quality of the bread. For now, Messy Bessy is basking in the Ma Ingalls moment.

Guilt No More Front Porch, Springtime

Superguy pointed out that this is the epitome of white trash front-porch living. Note the plywood across what had been a beautiful plate-glass window. Note the beer, and the peanuts being stored in a recycled bread bag!

The house next door is for sale. Who wants to be neighbors?

Thoughts about my Alma Mater

I have been, since high school, on a "Quote of the Day" e-mailing list from a former teacher. I occasionally read over these quotes, although I don't bother too much about them generally. Today's quote included a postscript from the teacher, noting that he had posted a little essay about the recent Trinity school commencement address on his blog. Interested, in a very slight way, in the happenings of my alma mater, I clicked on the link and read the blog post. It is hard to express my feelings upon reading this post. There was somehow a curious admixture of nostalgic fondness for the good-hearted intellectualism that was fostered at Trinity, as well as irritation and, probably undeserved, scorn for the pretensions of the Trinity Academic. It wasn't so much the substance of the post - I had not heard the Commencement address and so could not really form an opinion - as the, oh, dreaminess of that post and those surrounding it. (I may also be biased by the generally "dreamy" nature of the quotes I receive.) And it isn't just this teacher or this blog. I tend to have this sort of reaction to all things "Trinity". It seems unfair; for the most part, I loved my teachers and my classes and was completely blessed to have a happy, healthy, high-school experience. But, I guess I feel like I have grown up since then. There was something in the air at Trinity that now seems a little to 'rarified'. It isn't the intellectual side of the school; I certainly don't think they are too intellectually snobbish. It isn't the counter-cultural social environment, which I think is probably the best thing going for the school. I think what galls me about the Trinity school philosophy of life is the air of privileged idealism. I wholeheartedly believe in the pursuit of Truth, Beauty, and Goodness, but these things ought to be pursued in the real world, with a sense of perspective and real work and, please, a sense of humor! The Trinity idealism favors philosophy, not history; art, not science (at least not science in its actual workings); poetry, not prose. There is a sense of how important everything is, while missing how funny things can be. I don't know, I feel like I am rambling. I may be wrong and unfair, and maybe I have simply been corrupted by the secular world. But, all I can say is that what I love about the Catholic Church and the Catholic method of pursuing T,B, and G (and what I think is missing in the Trinity idealist philosophy) is that a person can become a saint through obedience. A man doesn't need to study the world to love it and to serve God, he can merely work hard, observe, and be thankful. We can bumble our way through life, and still, relying on God's Mercy!, end up in real, good happiness. I think perhaps some simplicity and humility is lost in the Trinity academic worldview.
Just a thought.

Baby update

Went to the midwife (aka "the coven") and found that our baby is just about perfect. I, on the other hand, am working to give a very good impression of a three-pack-a-day smoker, what with the hacking cough and the slow trudge. Luckily I'm still a few years away from the nasty yellow leathery skin, although I have a brother who is a lot closer to that than I am.

Hard as it is for people pregnant for the first time to comprehend, the length of human gestation is not very long, really. Here it seems we just found out about little "Gilberta" as Superguy likes to call him/her, and now this little miracle of God has a perfect heart, fingers, toes, bladder, kidneys, eyes and ears and every single thing. Slightly bigger than a box of butter.

Each time is more amazing to contemplate -- like trying to imagine a new color, one that no one has ever yet seen. That's what it is to think about who this new little person will be.

So we're just really grateful!

Life around here

IN the interests of keeping the Guilt No More Community fully informed about life in their Land of Origin, I post the following offerings.

This is what happens when Sweetums gets a make-up kit for her birthday.
You know you have a big family when your Dutch oven stretches out farther than your conventional burner. This was my mother's day present, and it can hold enough lentil soup to feed an entire Somali family. Or ours.
Fifi made raisin bread. This lasted less than two hours.
A tornado? High winds? Or incredibly slobby girl children who take after me?
Beware. Warriors live here.