Simple Pleasures

Words Matter

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Wed, 09 Mar 2011 03:18:00 +0000

A post here? Really? After all this time?

Sort of. Mostly I'm just stopping by to let y'all know I do have a blog, though it isn't the happiest place right now. You can follow me over there and maybe take part in my writing project: Words Matter.

Everyday wonders

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 06:37:00 +0000

Two weeks?! Has it really been two weeks since I last visited this poor little blog? Parenting, I believe has been lost somewhere in the boxes stacked in the garage. Until today, my front room looked more like the back of a moving van than a house, but we've been working through and making progress.

I would have done some before and after pictures, but do you know where I so carefully placed the camera so I could find it when I wanted it? Thought not. Unfortunately, neither does anyone else.

So you are just going to have to imagine the lovely picture I wanted to place right about here to create visual interest in this post. It is a darling picture, one I hope to hold in my mind for the rest of my days. That's why I'm going to sketch it out here.

It is of my adorable little Bug. She has the brightest, most penetrating eyes, and a wild mop of curls.

Anyway, picture her from behind as she kneels before the front loading washing machine. She's never seen one before, and has been frustrated in the past in her efforts to quickly open the washing machine to see what is going on in there.

But now she knows, and it is a wonderful sight. All the sloshing water and the clothes tossing this way and that.

It's a magazine cover type of shot, capturing the wonder of childhood in the simplest of daily activities.

But I can't find my camera.

And I'm tired of laundry. Do you have any idea how much that stuff piles up during a week without water?

Little Bug isn't tired of laundry, however. At the end of the cycle she runs up to the kitchen, flushed with excitement.

Mommy, you missed the beautiful song!

She's talking about the notification sounds the washer makes when it is finished. It is a pretty little sound, one I might have eventually listened to more as a warning of more folding drudgery to come if it weren't for that excited little face it is now paired with.

Mommy, you missed the beautiful song!

Yes, indeed I did. I was too busy looking at the pile of clothes to be folded to find beauty all around it.

Moving day is fast approaching

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 14:37:00 +0000

Wow, I can't believe how long it has been! Things have been crazy busy, but we are finally signing paperwork on the sale of our house tomorrow! In the meantime, I have started a new blog:

I have much to share involving the nonprogress going on in regards to the move, but first I have to meet the plumber. The guy who will give us water!

Nestle is not for girls

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 05:57:00 +0000

Nestle is in all sorts of trouble in the PR area. I guess. It hasn't stopped them from being one of the largest food distributors in the world, which is maybe why the twibbons haven't influenced them yet. In case you haven't heard, they're accused of endangering the lives of third world children through misleading advertising and marketing that goes against World Health Organization standards. Not to mention slave labor.

Here, they are something like Coca Cola. Ubiquitous and seemingly innocuous. But due to a Christmas care package my parents put together for my husband, I recently fell victim to their seedy advertising. Just look at this candy bar.

What's with the 'o'? Normally, I don't look at candy bar wrappers all that closely. Examining them brings me to the nutritional information and that is the last thing I'm concerned about when unwrapping chocolate. But just in case the fancy girl buster logo wasn't clear enough, they spelled out the weirdest marketing ploy I have ever seen stamped on a piece of candy.

Now what is in a chocolate bar that is NOT for girls you ask? I was expecting something strong. Bold. Like maybe chock full of nuts you had to shell with your teeth or something. Instead, it was just plain old milk chocolate. Mediocre milk chocolate at that.

So guys . . . you can keep your Yorkies. I'll consume my empty calories with something a little more . . .lila.

Merry Christmas!

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 19:14:00 +0000

Image courtesy of Vintage Holiday Images.

The hectically thrown together Carnival of Homeschooling

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 06:35:00 +0000

---->STOP THE PRESSES! I missed an entry. I tell ya, things are crazy around here. But please don't take it out on My Domestic Church that I can triple check a carnival and still miss her entry on Standardized college tests and her homeschooled kid.<----

Way back when, it seems like ages ago now, Henry Cate asked if I'd be willing to host the carnival this week. "Sure!" I said, perhaps too enthusiastically. I love hosting the Carnival of Homeschooling. It gives me a chance to connect with other homeschoolers, and find a few new blogs in the process. Nothing much is ever going on around here around the holidays. It's all quiet and peaceful, like Let a Woman Learn's Celebration of Winter. So stop by Lesson Pathways for some free Chr istmas Printables, I thought, or make some activity kits with Minds Bloom. Maybe even make a Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer with Peanuts are Evil. You know, something to keep them occupied while I was occupied. Maybe if I was feeling particularly schoolerish, I could set them down with a Christmas Break book list like Seaside Tales.

But that was then. Before accepting an offer on our house which sent us in a flurry to get our other house ready to move into. Hey, maybe that could be #16 of 15 great uses for a digital camera from The Creative Homeschool: document progress on impossibly huge projects that never seem to get anywhere. Kinda like parenting. Each day seems like the next, but I look at those photos and realize how much they have grown. The Stone Age Techie says a bit abo ut that with her camera. At any rate, the digital camera is definitely in the Tuesday Toolbox, and Homeschooling Hearts and Minds shares hers, as well.

It was also before the other party's financing fell through, killing the whole deal and throwing our house back on the market. Which wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the phone call on Friday

We'd like to show your house tomorrow.

I painted while S.A.G.A. shared her A merican Idol Experience (part II andpart III). I fought with the plumbing while Baby Steps went to see The Nutcracker. I washed windows while Four Squares had Library School. Some online math games and lessons as shared by TutorFi would have been welcome by that point, but we do not yet have internet access out there.

And the phone call Saturday.

We'd like to show your house tomorrow.

Causing Teachable Moments' journey to homeschooling to go totally underappreciated and Rational Jenn's A Day in the Life post took a backseat to my own hectic schedule. And I totally missed Homeschoolers on TV. Good thing Why Homeschool was there to discuss it. Education may not be a race, as Life Nurturing Education points out, but cleaning the house sure is.

And Monday.

We'd like to show your house tomorrow.

I could so use some efficient teaching ideas for homeschooling mothers by The Legacy of Home. Or even just the reminder that Life is tasty in small bites, as PrincipledMom shares. These are definitely the times I think homeschooling would be easier if it weren't for the kids. No Fighting, No Biting also shares struggles which may be bringing their homeschool journey to a close. Sometimes it is hard to see past the insanity of the moment, and sometimes you do need to step away from it all.

So I told the realtor all about the rest of my life.

See, there is this thing called the Carnival of Homeschooling which is like this weekly magazine published online and it is my turn to host it. A great deal of time goes into posts like Reading A loud: The Words Endure by CircleReader or Thoughts on Joy Hakim In Depth Show by The Thinking Mother or Materialism: What's with wanting so much stuff, anyway? by Laura Grace Weldon. Thus far I have gotten about nothing done on it. I've read zero of thirty to forty entries. Categorized zero of them. Gotten back with zero of the authors. Come up with zero ideas for a theme to tie them all together.

Yeah, right. As if I'd tell a realtor that. I didn't even wince as I said "Sure, no problem!" Even though it was a bit of a problem, but not really so much for the realtor. Or for me, really. After all, who in their right mind complains about a house showing? It was just a problem for this poor carnival.

I am so ready to just go away somewhere. About.com makes the Monterey Bay Aquarium sound like a nice field trip. A good nature study could be nice, as shared by The Mommy Earth. Bug got excited about the mouse tracks I showed her in the snow on the one walk we took last week. So excited I remembered why we homeschool for a few frozen minutes before returning to my paintbrushes. It's all about that Pursuit of Happiness Parent at the Helm wrote about. And so it begins, as Quiverfull Family points out. Another toddler joining the ranks of the homeschooled.

And here I am, getting ready to shove ALL of the unfinished laundry in the washing machine. (Please nobody start the washer without sorting it first!) There are a few pots that may find their way into the oven. A basket of unfolded laundry is sitting next to me, destined for the trunk of the car. These are my "dirty little secrets" of preparing for a house showing, though I'd never call it housecleaning.

The public's imagination seems to think homeschooling is an excellent place to hide abuse from the public's eye. Every now and again, a horrific tale of abuse is turned up in which the family claimed to be homeschooling in order to hide from authorities. Such was the case of Calista Springer's tragic life and death. Corn and Oil points out how homeschooling is not to be blamed with Lax is such a dangerous word, and Alasandra's Homeschool Blog Awards turns the focus on Child Protective Services with Calista was a victim of lazy or inept Child Protective Services.

There is no shortage of stereotypes against homeschoolers, as Pamela Jorrick points out. I've always wondered if that says more about the homeschoolers or those with the stereotypes. But even homeschoolers don't always like each other, as Successful Homeschooling shares in her post, Judgmental secular homeschoolers.

But I haven't had any time to really think about any of that. I didn't even have time to submit a post to my own carnival.

So Sprittibee shares her less than ideal holiday season and I think, "Oh yeah! Christmas is on Friday!" How can I forget a thing like that? Whether or not it was ideal . . . well, I'll answer that after I've gotten some sleep. And some coffee.

Thank you for visiting this week's Carnival of Homeschooling and my hectic week leading up to it. Next week, Renae of Life Nurturing Education will be hosting. Her life is every bit as hectic right now, what with moving to Idaho, and all, but she does a much better job of not showing herself unraveling on her blog. If you would like to submit a post, you may do so via the submission form at Blog Carnival. This carnival is organized by Why Homeschool where you can also find the archived carnivals.

Tired, tired, tired

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 16:23:00 +0000

I never had any idea painting was so strenuous. I've painted before, but never like this. I have aches in places I didn't even know I had muscles to ache. My hand rebels when I pick up a paintbrush.

And now it is time for the second coat and the trim.

And that, my dear readers, is all I can think to write about. Except all the other things that need done in the house, but I did that at my other blog. Just think of all the things I'll have to write about when the work is done and I get to sleep for a week.

For the sake of the toilet

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 10:59:00 +0000

Once upon a time, there was a little house on a hill. The little house on a hill was in need of many things, but one most special need was a toilet. With never ending cleaning and five children coming and going, there was great need of running water, but especially great need for a toilet.

So it was with great anticipation that the little house waited for the day The Water Guy would come. And come he did. The Water Guy did what water guys all over the country do and turned on the water. A faucet in the basement did what faucets all over the country do when left on and poured great quantities of water into the basement.

The owner, and mother of the five children, laughed. It was good to see water flowing. After all, it meant The Water Guy was there and that the water worked. And there is nothing wrong with water flowing from a faucet that is turned on, even if it is flooding the basement. Unfortunately, the faucet had been on for a very long time so it was stuck. Stuck on on. And her feet were getting wet.

The Water Guy, however, had turned many stuck faucets in his life and turned it off rather quickly. Actually, he made it look rather easy, like maybe it wasn't even stuck, but there wasn't time to fret. The mother ran upstairs to see if the water was filling the toilet, yet, because that was the object of her desire.

She didn't make it.

There was running water in the kitchen.

Water running out the side of the sink all over the kitchen floor. Mother sent her daughter to chase down The Water Guy and ask him to please make it stop. But he couldn't. He did, however, find the leak and it was in the water filtration system that was broken. He said that theoretically, he should be able to just disconnect the filter and have water to the sink, but he couldn't figure out how.

So The Water Guy shut off the water to the kitchen. Then it began to rain.

Rain is a good thing, usually, but not when it is in a basement.

Standing in the rain with the flashlight, The Water Guy spotted the hole in the hot water pipe leading to the bathroom so he shut it off. It stopped raining, but the toilet still would not fill. He went out to check his meter and it was running.

Running, showing large quantities of water usage. But in the house, there was but a trickle from one faucet and gurgling noises in the toilet. So he followed the pipes and a few of them led into a concrete wall in the basement

"Surely they didn't build this on top of the pipes with no way to get to them," he said.

Yeah, surely, thought the mother. But you never can tell.

The Water Guy walked all around the house, inside and out. The Water Guy looked baffled and this made the mother very concerned. But The Water Guy did not give up, and The Water Guy prevailed. He finally found a piece of plywood on the wall behind which he discovered the crawl space, a broken pipe, and a great deal of water. Then he turned the water off to that section of the house.

His meter showed only a little water usage, now. "Probably just the toilet," he said. And then it began to rain. Again.

The mother's son had decided to try to fill the bath, and apparently the drain has issues as well.

The Water Guy laughed and advised the mother not to use the bath. Then The Water Guy showed the mother all about the water meter, how to open it up and, most importantly, how to shut it off. After a few well placed horror stories to make the mother not feel so bad about her own situation, he left.

The mother returned to the basement and wondered why towels and mops had not been on the list of needed equipment for the day the water was to be turned on. All she had was paint brushes, paint, a picnic basket and five storage tubs of clothes to be stored.

Clothes. Made of fabric.

So the mess got cleaned up. And the little house on the hill got a working toilet.

You gotta listen to a cute baby, right?

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 09:05:00 +0000

Just in case there's someone who reads this blog that doesn't realize I have another blog. A bigger blog, at least traffic wise, where I actually talk about, you know, stuff. Stuff like homeschooling and culture and faith. Stuff besides just what the kids said last week or choking on potatoes and stuff.

Well anyway, this other blog (Principled Discovery) was nominated for an award in the Homeschool Blog Awards and I'd really appreciate it if you take a moment and listen to what my baby has to say about it:

Motivation comes in a variety of ways

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 16:39:00 +0000

I have been sort of teaching the kids German for a long time. Or rather, I have been feeling guilty about not teaching them German as much as I should for a very long time.

Mouse has always been sort of interested. Maybe that is related to my sort of commitment. But she's never been all that motivated. She plays the games, sings the songs and otherwise doesn't really seem all that into the whole thing.

But suddenly she is. She has mapped out an aggressive school plan, and German language and history is featured highly. She has found a website with German sounds, grammar and vocabulary that she has been spending quite a bit of time on, and keeps asking me how to pronounce things. She's been chanting the bits of the songs she remembers and bookmarked a history of Germany I showed her. I think she even started reading it, but the printer is acting up so she couldn't print it.

I was pleased, if a bit baffled, by the sudden intense interest.

But then she showed me her notebook she is making. It is all decorated with locks and keys and "keep out" type messages. Odd connection, I thought, until her triumphant announcement after I looked over all the pronunciation keys and vocabulary she had copied.

When I'm all done, you won't be able to hide anything from me! I know what you guys are talking about and birthday presents and EVERYTHING!

Yep. We long ago had to leave off spelling things to each other. But Mouse is determined to take the ability to just say it in German away as well.

A little before and after

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 05:50:00 +0000

Well, ok, so mostly just during. The camera ate my before pictures so we're going to use a little guided imagination to picture the transformation this room is undergoing.

So close your eyes . . . well, maybe you'd best leave them open, else you won't be able to read what you're to imagine.

So picture yourself leaving the kitchen into a large, rectangular room. Spacious, with high, peaked ceilings AND A BAY WINDOW! I have wanted a bay window since I was a little girl, and I have spent almost as much time dreaming about my little window seat and the cushions I'm going to make to put on it as I have about any of the other projects I've set before myself.

The walls are white; the carpet is beige and in need of a good cleaning but otherwise in good shape. On the opposite side of the room is a large, sandstone colored chimney where a wood burning stove used to stand with a hearth of yellow ceramic. The same ceramic tiles are used in the entry way, and some of the tiles are cracked. When the realtor showed us the house, I was impressed by how good of shape the room was in and the fact that the only work we needed to do was to replace the shower and knock the moldy drywall out of the basement. Eventually, we'd replace all the carpeting with wood floors, but that was by no means necessary.

But then we went and showed the house to my parents after we bought it.

And here you have to imagine the other picture I took. This is where we removed one of the vents and pulled back some of the carpet. What should our wondering eyes behold but hardwood floors?

So you can probably guess what happened next. Tearing things up is cheap. And kind of fun, too.

We're hoping to maybe put an electric fireplace there against the chimney along with a small sitting area. A couch! Some comfy chairs! My parents won't have to bring their own seating when they come to visit! Imagine the joy and comfort!

And the view from the other side of the room, just so you can see all the carpet we tore up, as well as the stair leading to the basement.

Our dining room table will go there, more or less where the carpet is piled up. And I will have space. And a place to sit. And a place to feed people. And a little room to keep all our homeschool projects so they don't accumulate on the table.

Space.

I still can't quite fathom it.

A child's labor

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 07:40:00 +0000

A day of labor, pulling staples out of the floor and drywall screws off the wood frame in the basement. Cleaning counters, washing windows, sweeping the floor. Chipping tile grout off the floor and prying up carpet tacks.

My hands are exhausted. My muscles are tired. It is a pleasant feeling to have worked, to have made progress, to be tired. Sitting down to rest is like hot cocoa on a cold evening.

John asks Mouse to do the dishes, her normal evening chore, but throws in mention of the work we've been doing in the house while the children played outside.

"I was working all day, too!" she responds, trying to temper her indignation.

Because she was. All the children were. We may not place quite the same value on their labors down amongst the trees they've named Twin Clearing, but that does not make their efforts any less purposeful nor their muscles any less tired.

Join me for a tour of our new kitchen

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 06:47:00 +0000

Welcome to our little house out in the country. L.E. Fant, our gorgeous little greeter, is here to welcome you for a little tour of the kitchen.

And please note that we're going through the kitchen door. Because that's the kind of guests you are. No formal front door stuff around here. I'd put on the kettle if we had a stove. The kitchen door is very informal at this moment.

Because, uh, I broke the lock on the front door. The key wouldn't turn and I was afraid I was going to break the key and I pushed a little harder and the lock just spun. My dear husband didn't seem to believe me until he had the same trouble with the kitchen door, except he just went ahead and broke the key off in the lock. That worked just about as well as my take on the locks.

We contemplated the relative costs of breaking in versus calling a locksmith and as you can see my husband chose the former option.

The kitchen is the one room in the house that I wasn't too sure about it. It is small. Very small. The children will not be able to stand on their step stool to watch what is going on at the stove anymore. I will not have much room to move around.

But the room is growing on me. The cabinets are nice. I will actually have more counter space. There are lots of outlets for things like electric roasters and juicers and toasters. Oh, and the electric stand mixer I've had my eye on for years. And the space that is there is used more efficiently than in our current kitchen.

Just look at the pantry.

Surfing around to see how other people deal with small galley style kitchens, I came across some famous chef who designed his own super efficient galley kitchen and he had a cool pantry with shelves that slid out. I thought that was way cool and a great investment for my super small kitchen. It might make the whole small kitchen thing worthwhile, I thought, as I pondered a bit of remodeling just for the fun of it rather than because it actually had to be done.

But what should I find when I actually looked in my pantry?

Shelves that pull out! One of the cabinets has shelves like that, too. How cool is that?

And see, if you were really dropping in for a visit, I picture you sliding onto one of these little built in benches while I served you a cup of tea on the little table I have not yet found to put in front of the little built in benches. It seems like such a nice, neighborly, just-popped-in kind of place to sit and chat.

I think this will also make up a little for the fact the children won't be able to help with the cooking as much. Here, they can measure and mix and beat all at their level and without the step stool. And the seats lift up for storage. No idea what to store in a bench in the kitchen, but I'm sure something will come to me.

I hope you enjoyed this little tour. Join me again for some before and after pictures of the work we're doing in the rest of the house!

In which I am not happy about losing all my pictures. And a dog's nose.

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 05:21:00 +0000

I was planning on giving you a little tour of the inside of our house. I thought it would be a nice starting point for chronicling our progress. But then, well, my husband went on this weird anti-Google thing he does once in awhile and deleted Picasa off the computer in search of something like Picasa that wasn't owned by Google.

That may not seem relevant, but trust me, it is.

I had a gazillion pictures on my little memory card but no real way of viewing them. OK, so I could open up the card and view the pictures through Paint, but that was annoying so I didn't bother. I figured they were safe enough where they were. Eventually, hubby dear would give up his fight with Google and reinstall Picasa. He always does.

I was right about my husband and Picasa is back on the computer. I was wrong about my pictures, however. Neither the camera nor my computer will read the card.

Now, I believe the pictures may actually be on the computer somewhere, or at least most of them. Last week, I was browsing through them using Paint until I decided it was too tedious. But I'm not exactly sure where dear hubby had pictures go when I stick the little card in the little slot. I just know it asks me what I want to do and I click OK and then my pictures are there. Except now.

So I'm holding out a smidgen of hope that dear hubby will tell Picasa where he's hiding all my pictures so that tomorrow they will all be there for me to look at. And for now, I'll leave you with an old photo because it amuses me. Taken by Bug, my four year old daughter:

If you've ever had any experience with beagles, you know they are just a nose on paws, so she has captured the essence of beagleness pretty well.

Teaching the law of kindness

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:25:00 +0000

A casual conversation in the car, meandering through the day. Mention of a babysitting class at the hospital starting for ten year olds. Brief mention that I thought this class might also help Mouse in her relationship with her siblings because it might help her see them in a different light. Gentle words and patience go a long way in earning someone's respect, I tell her.

"Pleasant words are an overflowing of honey, sweetness to the soul and healing to the bones." ~Proverbs 16:24

We've had this conversation so many times before, but this time is different. She seems to actually be listening and thinking.

"So it is like treating others the way you want to be treated?"

"Yes. Just like that."

She turns contemplative. I leave her with a single thought.

"You know, L.E. adores you because you always treat her with such gentleness."

We pull into the drive and I begin getting everyone in. Pajamas and teeth brushing. Straightening and gathering cleaning supplies to bring to the house. The children are strangely quiet as I hear them chatting in the kitchen and I go to check.

Spread out on the floor are the instruction brochures for her K'nex, the K'nex Bear has been asking her to play with five times a day for weeks. The little ones are looking through the brochures and picking things for Mouse to build while Bear makes a helicopter.

"A little honey goes a long way," I say and Mouse smiles.

In which my children lock themselves in the dog kennel

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 04:19:00 +0000

Over the weekend, we took my parents out to see our new property. The one that is really ours, complete with signed paperwork, keys and bills addressed to us! Anyway, the kids took off to explore. Dismayed at the fact we didn't have keys to all the padlocks and thus still couldn't get into one of the sheds, they determined to take matters into their own hands.

Mouse found a ladder in one of the barns and dragged it over to the window. They all climbed up and one by one dropped inside to explore. Model teamwork, it was.

They, of course, were thrilled with their success. All but one, that is. From inside the dark shed, my dad heard one, small little four year old voice.

"Hey! How are we going to get out of here?"

Good question, little Bug.

A note from my daughter

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 02:22:00 +0000

At the mother daughter craft night Mouse and I went to at our church, we were given an opportunity to write each other a note of encouragement. It is unlikely this small handwritten note on pretty pink and green paper will last long, so I thought I would both preserve and share it here.

I like the way you smile and how you are so cind and thoughtful and the food.

I smile, am kind and thoughtful. Also, I feed my kids. Not a bad start. Now if I were just more successful at teaching spelling.

Naming home

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 08:57:00 +0000

Perhaps it is due to many long and pleasant hours spent with Anne Shirley of Green Gables, but I have always had a bit of a romantic fascination with naming houses. Growing up in suburbia, however, it never seemed quite right. Here, we live in houses, not estates. But downtown, there is a beautifully manicured lawn with a sign posted at the corner: Hunley's Haven. Whenever I drive by, it makes me smile. They have built themselves something more than a house to come home to at the end of the working day.

When we were in negotiations to buy the house down the road from us, the idea came to me again. It was a large house on almost three acres. It was a home to be named, but what would we name it? What name would impart our hopes and dreams for it? A name would come, I decided, and come it did. The house named itself: The Stinky House. That's what the children called it. That's what we called it. That's what we still call it though we are no longer trying to purchase it.

A strange name, but one with a bit of history and meaning to us. I wonder what the neighbors would have thought?

And here we are again, on the cusp of embarking on this journey of country living. Five acres, a couple of barns, a pasture. And a home to be named. And here I am, again, unsure exactly how one goes about naming a property.

So far, two names have occurred to me. I sort of like them both, but for very different reasons.

Roscommon Acres. Because our family name originates in County Roscommon, Ireland. Ballaghaderreen, to be exact. Actually, I kind of like that, too, but would anyone be able to pronounce it?
A Very Nearly Nowhere. Because that is exactly where we will be living.

Then I'll have to start working on my sign so the cows know who we are.

Will you marry me? asks the Bug

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 06:31:00 +0000

Cooing over her baby brother, Bug announced:

"Mudpuppy, when you grow up, I'm going to marry you."

Bear, however, didn't think that was a good idea. Indignant, he replied:

"You can't marry your brother or you'll grow extra limbs!"

I sputtered tea right at the baby brother in question. He loved it, but now I'm picturing a six legged Bug.

How would you like your obituary to read?

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 05:17:00 +0000

The Omaha-World Herald led with a touching story last week that dominated the front page.

Mary Anaya fed the hungry and clothed the naked, all the while mothering 10 children, plus the one growing in her womb. But she died early Wednesday at age 42, leaving behind her family and a long record of loving her neighbor as herself.

Just think of that. To live such a life that the paper notes your passing so boldly, so prominently and with an emphasis that here passed a woman with "a long record of loving her neighbor as herself."

It made me think of all the column inches printed about Christians objecting to various policies or cultural practices, all the e-alerts I receive trying to rally support for boycotts of Pepsi or McDonald's or whoever has most recently offended our Christian moral standards as well as objections to holiday greetings.

I think sometimes we can be on the right side of a debate, but get so caught up in it that we forget the real issue. There are many conversations that are good and right and necessary to have within the church and amongst Christians. We are to encourage and correct one another as we journey toward the promised land.

But we forget that we are but sojourners here, strangers in a strange land. We are not supposed to be known by our adherence to a checklist of Christian behaviors and the eloquence with which we defend those behaviors. Christ gave us a mark, the mark of love.

By this all shall know that you are My disciples, if you have love among one another. ~John 13:35

Imagine if that really were synonymous with "Christian" in the hearts and minds of those we meet.

Redesigned blog while waiting for a phone call

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 16:56:00 +0000

Nervous energy is good for something. While fretting about the likelihood of the bank getting the appraisal back by today's closing date, I finished (most of) my new template. I may not have a house, but I have a header! Still a bit to do, but the dust is settling from the renovations.

Just in time, too. Hopefully the appraisal will come in just in time because my husband took the day off. That and I really really REALLY want to show you the inside of our new house this weekend.

Working on a new template

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 01:51:00 +0000

I am getting ready to reorganize this blog a bit to pull together the disparate things I discuss in a more meaningful way. At least for me. In the meantime, I am looking for a template so this blog may well look different every time you visit.

Unless I get this paint.net program figured out and can make the header I'm trying to make. At the moment, I'm thinking Microsoft Paint is easier. Feel free to leave your thoughts on my template. My main goal is to go to a two column design with bars across the top for the different categories of subjects I write about.

A boy and his dog

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 03:51:00 +0000

Over the weekend, I took the children out to the property to snap a couple pictures for the insurance company and then to just let the kids run. I gave Bear, my six year old son, the camera. He seemed to be impressed by one thing, given the number of times that one thing came up in his photos.

Photo after photo after photo of Hunter. When we got home, Bear snuggled up to me and said,

"Mom, that was so much fun. Can we bring Hunter with us every time we go out to the property?"

A boy and his dog and five acres. What more could a boy ask for?

Moving to the country

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 03:50:00 +0000

Standing in a field, breathing in the smell of soil, cow and fresh air, listening to the grasshoppers and the faint rustling of wind through dried feed corn, I think this is "the country." Soon it will be home.

Since I was little, "the country" has been a sort of dream world where all wishes and desires were put away and stored until that magical someday when we would move there.

"Mom, can I have a horse?"

"Someday, if we move to the country."

"Mom, can I have a cat?"

"Someday, if we move to the country."

Out here, there is nothing as far at the eye can see. And yet there is everything. The first time we went out, I thought you couldn't even see the neighbors from the property but I was wrong. See, there he is...in the truck driving out to his tractor.

And a few of the local teens walked down to say "Hi!" when they heard we were moving in.

I'm starting to get just a little excited.

Mom vs. Snake

noreply@blogger.com (Hanley Family) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 02:20:00 +0000

This is seriously not funny you guys. I had the most frightening encounter and didn't even know enough to be frightened until it was almost over. Mostly I just fretted about the shoe.

See, we had an open house today, and open houses require two hours of me being somewhere other than home with the children. So I decided to take them to the playground. Driving along toward the playground, I saw a snake lying in the road. A big snake. Maybe three feet long and pretty thick. Being in no particular hurry, and thinking my son might like to see it, I turned and drove back.

When I got back, I was surprised to find it had moved to the center of the road where it had stretched out to sun itself.

What is it, mom?

The children asked. It was nothing like the garter snakes they chase around.

Look carefully at the markings and try to remember the pattern. We can look it up when we get home.

And they did. They studied it from the safety of the car, talked about it and finally worried that it might get hit.

Such nice children. Worried about the great big snake sunbathing in the middle of the road. That left me in a bit of a predicament. I drive by critters on the road all the time. Sometimes I even think, "Oh, I hope it doesn't get hit!" Especially if it is a turtle.

But there is a certain immunity in "just driving by" that allows me to go on without thinking much about it or feeling much personal responsibility. Unless it happens to be a box turtle, but that is neither here nor there.

Now that I had pulled over and it had become a point of educational curiosity for the children, I felt responsible. But what was I supposed to do exactly? I didn't know what kind of snake it was, and I'm not keen on getting bitten by anything. Then I thought about what my children would do if we drove by a flattened snake on the way home.

So I looked around the car, looked at the snake, thought about opening the door to scare it off and thought something about the shape of the head really sort of was making me want to run it over myself. Then I did what anyone would do and threw a little window squeegee thing at it.

I missed. The dumb snake didn't even appear to notice it was under attack as the window squeegee thing bounced and flopped next to it.

Then I threw my daughter's croc at it. That hit its mark, but again, the snake didn't seem overly concerned. I guessed it was a little chilled seeing as it was only 50 degrees out. After all, that was why it was sunning itself in the middle of the road, right? And reluctant to leave even while being pelted by random objects from my car?

Something about its passivity under fire emboldened me. I backed the car up and grabbed my baby's back carrier and got out of the car. The plan was to slowly but noisily approach the snake and sort of shoo it off the road. Most animals, even snakes, choose to leave rather than mess with people so long as there is a place to leave to. The whole rest of the world seemed like a good escape route to me so I clanked the thing on the road and stepped toward the snake.

It totally didn't care.

So I did it again. And again. And louder. And then with a touch more motion. And suddenly I got a reaction, and not at all the one I was looking for. Around went the coils, and back went the head. Its entire length seemed suddenly in motion as it drew itself into a defensive posture. And then...what's that? Rattling? Seriously, that thing was rattling at me?

I yielded the road. In fact, I went around the back of the car and got in on the passenger side even though it meant climbing over two dogs and a gerbil cage.

What's wrong, mom?

I know what kind of snake it is.

What about my shoe?

If he wants the shoe, he can have it.

And we drove away.

From the safety of my computer chair, I discovered that I saw a western massasauga, an endangered species of rattlesnake thought to possibly still be in this area, though it is generally more to the south of us, where the University even goes out on field trips looking for them. The image is from Wikipedia.