Shameless Begging for Sympathy

I had hopes of making some serious inroads on my projects after the holidays: designing and shopping for a new kitchen, sewing, and organizing the office.

Well. Ever since Christmas, I have been either gone or sick. I came home from Virginia sick, recovered enough to go to Colorado, and have been dragging around ever since like there's a 50-pound sack of orchardgrass on my shoulders.

Today I finally called the doctor. How high is your fever? Umm, not that high, maybe 99-100. Are you coughing up green phlegm? (Love that medical nonchalance). Well, not usually. Ok, well, keep drinking fluids and keep an eye on your symptoms and call us in a day or two.

Why did I hope she would say I have all the signs of galloping double pneumonia and emphysemic pleurisy and have to get to the hospital immediately? Probably because I want something to happen beyond this being just barely well enough to cook supper and do two loads of laundry but taking all day to do it.

Sigh. One of the worst things about this ordeal is that people keep expecting me to talk. It's terrible. Phone calls, questions, discussions I'm expected to contribute to, on and on. I think, Dear me, do I really talk this much on a normal basis? It hurts to talk and it sends me into spasms of coughing.

This evening I took Jenny to her piano lesson and tried to sleep in the car while I waited on her. Then we started home:

Quote of the Day:
Me: Jenny, can you please please stop asking me so many questions?
Jenny: Ok. . .
What is a plight?
What does the inside of a jail look like?
Did you know I got a dart gun at the dollar store that's still really good?
Did you know the chickens eat shrews?
Oh, sorry Mom, I keep forgetting. . .
Mom? Oh, this is a stupid question so I won't ask. . .
Mom! Do you know what this means--'Your walk talks and your talk talks but your walk talks louder than your talk talks'?
Why does my hair seem to frizz out?
Can we listen to the radio?
Radio: I am convinced there are still systematic efforts to keep African-Americans from voting. .
Jenny: Who's talking?
Me: (changes stations)
Radio: Rid takes it up the middle! It's 22-19 Blazers!
Jenny: Yesss!!!
Jenny: (listens silently)
Me: (silently) Yesss!!!

More Photos

I posted some pictures of Homer the orphan lamb and his friends.
Click here.

My Evaluation of Facebook

You may recall that a few months ago Matt introduced me to Facebook and tried to convince me to join, which set off a flurry of comments, pro and con, when I posted about it. The folks who loved Facebook really loved it, the naysayers were equally adamant.

I finally decided I really should sign up, not because it felt like I was the only one still Out of the Loop, but because it would be a good way to stay abreast of my big kids' lives. But I kept putting it off. Then when we were in Virginia, Emily said, "Mom, I think you should sign up on Facebook as soon as you have 300,000 hits on your blog."

"Ok," I said, thinking that would be weeks away. But the next time I checked I was already more than 200 hits over. Oops. (Not that I mind, all of you faithful readers). "I'll do it after we get home," I said.

"No, let's do it now," said Matt, who was sitting there with a laptop on his lap. He began clicking and tapping as only Matt can click and tap, and before I quite knew what was happening I was all signed up.

Within a day I had 50 emails regarding whether or not I would officially be friends with people, or they with me, heady stuff for someone who was so unpopular in high school she would spend her lunch hours reading in the library rather than interacting with people. Within a week I had 75 friends and even my vivacious daughter was jealous. Whoa, this was fun.

We flew home and I would check my Facebook page expecting....I'm not sure what. Something amazing and profound, I think. Something life-impacting. And all I would see was a series of little blips on my page that said things like:
Emily Smucker is now friends with Abraham McCullough.
Tom Troyer is a fan of Voice of Praise.
Glen Zehr is discouraged.
Alisa Johnston would like to be your friend.

And I thought--"Wait. That's it??"

After I got over that little disappointment I found some surprisingly nice things about Facebook.

One evening I logged on and soon a little flag in the corner popped up and there was Arlene, sending me a little message. I typed one in return, and soon we had a fun conversation going in which I learned all kinds of interesting tidbits that I've been missing out on, having been traveling or sick ever since Christmas. And I didn't have to talk, which is nice when you have a sore throat.

Then I discovered pictures, including a bunch that Bethany C. had posted of Bible school, which assured me that Amy was in good company and doing fine.

I also found that it was easier for me to post and organize pictures on Facebook than on Blogger, and believe me, anything that makes posting pictures easier is a good thing.

The other cool thing was that I began to catch up with people from my past as they popped up as friends of friends. Karen, whose dad was our pastor years ago, and I hadn't seen her in years. Barb, my cousin's son's wife, whom I hadn't seen since she was newly married and pregnant at a Miller reunion, and now she has 5 or 6 children and makes amazing scrapbook pages.

None of the fearful warnings I received have been necessary yet. I don't find it tempting to spend a lot of time on Facebook. If I don't want to chat I just click the green button on the corner to make it red. And no one has tried any foolishness such as throwing sheep or cockleburrs at me.

I still prefer face-to-face conversations above all. On the computer, I prefer to catch up with people through email or blogs, both of which tend to contain whole paragraphs rather than mere headlines.

But Facebook is fine if you expect it to do only what it is able to do.

Quote of the Day:
"It's not that I have a bone to grind with anyone."
--Paul, in a sermon, and then he wondered why some of us were grinning. I don't have a bone to grind with anyone about Facebook either.

What Say You?

Well, if Emily is moving out of state, I really should give her my serger [that's as old as she is] and get a newer one for myself, shouldn't I? Makes sense to me.

So I have been on Craigslist. And I didn't find much for sergers but I found this:

Ok, I am gettingno help from friends...how do you come up with ideas on conversations, I would like to be able to carry on an actually conversation with people, also, how do you get over maybe the feelings you had in high school (how do you keep them from coming back?) feeling insecure, quiet, knowing that you are worth something? I want to exuce confidence, and want people to be around me. You know like really like you not just be a person you know. I am at a loss. I welcome ur advice please. Thanks!

I wondered what all my wise readers would advise this person--I'll call her Kathy--so I emailed her and got permission to quote her. And she responded with an expanded version:

Hi, I want to start the new year off great and stick with it. A new year a better me? So, I had a bad break up a year and a half ago, and while I am still not currently dating, I am ok with that, and made peace with the crappy ex. What I need to do is break bad habits where I do not follow through with friends, or I end up either wanting to be around people, or I hole myself up. Any ideas on how to get past such a stage and be more consistent? How to not thinking negatively, make an effort, and not have such bad peaks and valleys? To take work for what it is, not take people there not talking to me personally, but how to make an effort to talk to everyone to be cordial? If any of this makes sense? and, to let go of not being everyones friend, be myself, and know it is ok, if I am still not friends with everyone from school? I hope someone understands this babbling. and offers some tidbits. Thanks for reading! How do you :
reassimilate yourself with friends again, when you have shyed away from them for awhile?
get back up there and try to pick your life up
not get upset if people do not want to be ur friend on myspace or facebook, or if they remove you from their friends, or when people do not comment or call you back.
these are things I wonder and I am not sure how other deal or if people even car about this stuff?

I think the first thing I would tell Kathy is that readers of LITS are a caring bunch and we are rooting for her even if we don't know her.

(She'll be reading this, just so you know.)

Quote of the Day:
Steven: What's this stuff?
Me: Sage. Like I put in the stuffing, and it actually comes from. . .
Steven: The ice age?

Colorado

Our trip to Canon City, Colorado, was a success. The verse I sensed the Lord giving me on Saturday morning was, "My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." And He did just that, in my spirit, as one thing after another checked off our list.

Climate: very dry. So dry and rocky that it could get depressing, but not if you're allergic to rain.

Church: friendly, good worship, nice people. And an amazing number of solid, satisfying Menno-connections--Cheryl from Stirland Lake days, Dorcas from Kenya days who is married to Prairie View's son Shane, Marilyn who is an aunt to Paul's nephew's wife Amy.

People who would look out for Emily: Kay and Gaylord and their family, who basically look out for everyone and would be happy to include Emily in their fold, staff people with New Horizons Ministries who have a heart for people in recovery in addition to their major calling of working with prisoners and caring for babies born in prison

Young people to do things with: lots of them

Meaningful work: Emily can work in the mission's thrift store, part time, as she feels able. She is a true Yoder in her love of digging through castoffs in search of treasure so this is a good line of employment. I also sensed that there's potential for her to use her gifts of drama and working with children.

Transportation: she'll be within 3/4 of a mile of work and church if she gets the Amazing Castle [more on that later] so she could conceivably walk or bike, but it looks like she'll have to bite the bullet and re-learn to drive to places like the grocery store and Knepps.

Housing: since she wouldn't be an official voluntary-service worker she wouldn't live with the other workers. So we'll need to rent a place. Knepps drove us around and we looked at a few options, such as an older trailer house whose pipes regularly freeze and leak, not a good choice for someone with mold issues. Then, oh yeah, maybe we should drive by this house that the pastor owns and would like to rent out. Well. You can read Emily's take on this here. Paul saw her reaction and said, "I think I'm on an unstoppable train."

So, yes, it looks like Emily leaves Redmond sometime in February, after Amy is home from Bible School, and we'll move her to Colorado.

It isn't easy for me, naturally, but His presence goes with me and gives me rest. And Emily is excited about the move, which helps a lot.

Quote of the Day:
"Well. I knew the minute I set eyes on it, it was the house for me."
--Emily, misquoting Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

Cooking Article

Today's Entree section in the Register-Guard features yours truly in this story along with four other RG writers. (Click on "photo" if you want to see the picture.)

We won't go into the irony of me being written up in a cooking column. Next thing you know they'll do a profile of me on the sports page.

Thanks to Lolita from Poland for the original Cheeseburger Soup recipe. And a correction--the traveling 400 miles for groceries was when the kids were little, not when I was a child.

Photos

I posted some pictures on Facebook, yes I did. From Redmond, Virginia, DC, Colorado, and maybe a few other places too. [ I'm trying to do this in such a way that you don't have to sign in to Facebook to see the photos. Since it's a lot easier for me to put pictures on Facebook than Blogger. Three tries later it still doesn't work. Aarrgghh]
[Still doesn't work. Matt, can you help me out?? Amy? Tom?? Hans???]

One more try. See if this works.
Yes!!
Special thanks to Ellen!

Letter from Harrisburg

All that anguish led to this column.

Baaaaaa

The lamb stays.
Steven named him Homer.
Paul bought milk replacer.
Homer climbed out of the plastic tote he was in.
And peed in Jenny's shoe.
She was not happy.
But she still loves him.
Tonight he goes out in the shed with the chickens.

The Lamb

I heard a bit of bleating when I went outside yesterday afternoon, but it took Steven the former orphan to figure out that there was a newborn lamb by the fence and it had been there for hours, and the mom was nowhere around, and we had to do something.

We tied up Hansie, thinking maybe he was scaring the ewe away. But she still didn't show up.

Paul called the owners of the flock around 8:30. "My husband's already in bed," said the wife. "We'll just hope it's still alive in the morning."

Well. Were a formerly motherless child and his tenderhearted little sister and a mom of a formerly motherless child going to leave an orphaned lamb out in the cold? We were not.

So Steven brought it in, still crusty and with a fresh-looking umbilical cord remnant, and put it in a laundry basket with an old rug. By this time it was too weak to stand.

I found a Coke bottle and the nipples from last year, and mixed up my best guess at lamb milk replacer, and we got it to drink.

Soon it perked up enough to climb out of the basket and trot around the kitchen. So we found a plastic bin with higher sides and put it in the bathroom with a heater. Steven fed it at 2 a.m.

And this morning it was lively and noisy, but it had a bit of diarrhea, which means we're feeding it too much.

Paul called Mrs. Owner again. "Thanks, I'll tell my husband," she said.

No husband has showed up yet.

I hope the lamb survives. I hope we can keep it.

This from the lady who says, every spring,

Quote of the Day:
"If you want bummer lambs they are YOUR responsibility and I have paid my dues with getting up at night with babies and I am NOT going to feed them for you and I DON'T want that milk replacer mess in my kitchen!"