Here is my favorite poem by Catherine Claire, a dear friend of mine. God has gifted her with the pen and I am in awe of it.

Led Zep

I have never been a fan of Led Zeppelin, but lately that same cd that my husband has been listening to has been in the car. I can't get enough of "Baby I'm Gonna Leave You". I think it is their best song like "Kashmir". Most Led Zep songs are just a sort of going on forever and Plant just screaming and jyrating around. I never knew I would like it.


Walter Wick's Biggest Fan

My middle child is obsessed with I Spy. I am about to go crazy on account of it. Everything is about I Spy.

The other night we were praying during our Bible lesson and it was his turn to pray. He thanked God for Walter Wick.

It doesn't stop here though. It goes further. He wants to make his own I Spy by making a great big mess and taking pictures of it. Then, for the finale, he can write a riddle (that rhymes) so one can "find" little objects in the heap of junk. I have this kid constantly at my heels begging me to look at an I Spy, make an I Spy, buy a notebook, find something about I Spy for him, or go to the library to pick up yet another I Spy.

I will not even begin to explain his fervor of Can You See What I See, which is also by the same man.

Walter Wick, if you ever google your own name and this pops up, you owe me.



I don't cuss (or swear, use dirty language, etc.) because I think it is a sin. I have heard or read so many Christians cuss, I just don't understand it. Is it not a sin to them? Is it justified somehow? What is the deal? Is it just culturally acceptable?

I would love to hear input.

Not Too Impressive

I have not finished Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel yet, because I took a detour for awhile with a book called Cold Comfort Farm------I am almost finished. I am not too impressed with it, I must say. At least so far. It is entertaining, but I think I expected more out of it. I don't think it is going to redeem itself in 30 pages.

I have so many books to read and only one life----it is frustrating.


Sounds like a word, huh?

One night my daughter (who is four) told me when she was somewhat frustrated and half joking that I was "dilibated". She even shook her head. She said, "Mom, you're so dilibated!" I still have no idea what it means to her, but my husband and I use it all the time. We always tell her how dilibated she is, etc. She's about had enough of us.


Jogger Blogger

I ran for the first time today in five months. I know, pretty pathetic. Once it gets past the two month time period, I think the only excuse is laziness. For me, at least. Five months ago I was up to 6-8 miles per run, but all I could muster today was about 2. I will explain this. Do you know how hilly Virginia is? Idaho is fairly flat. I will tell you, the hills kicked my butt. When my lungs can take it (this was my case today) my legs can't. And vice versa. As my husband would say it, I was "crawling". Twenty minutes of agonized crawling.

Air and Space

We went to Air and Space this weekend. I am usually interested in many things, but my daughter and I were just bored. I tried, really I did. Not only was it boring, but it was PACKED with people. That was so frustrating! It was so packed with people I was smelling bad breath the whole time. The boys loved it as much as they could have. They enjoyed everything, but wanted to sit down. There was barely ever a place. It just smelled and looked like a public school multi-purpose room. The thing is, we had heard so much about this museum---it was great, etc, etc. It really wasn't. I don't think it was any different from the little museums I ever went to when I was a kid. The only really cool thing that I liked was the Wright brothers exhibit. That was cool. I like the 1800's, so it figures. I can not wait to go to another art museum again!



I am supposed to go on a "date" with my other half tonight. I bet you it will be a night full of trying to figure out what to do!

This is the plight of the parents of young children. Plus, I am the most indecisive person I know by far. This makes for a night of frustration. I think though that I have a patient husband, so I am ok.

We so desperately wish to visit the second floor of the National Art Gallery. I spied some Van Gogh and Monet. Too bad it is not open tonight!

Perhaps we will visit Air and Space tomorrow with the kids.

Rain, rain, rain. A perfect night for me and my husband---we both love the rain. We scare ourselves.


Depths of Despair (Anne style)

My husband did not get this job that I was hoping he would get so I am really down today. I know, that is probably silly. I was really pumped about it.

So, to make myself feel better I was looking at my husband's blog and I clicked on the right hand corner to "next blog" just like a silly Christian would who wants to hear from God by closing their eyes and dropping open the Bible to read the encouragement there. The blog was a blog on knitting.

What does that mean?



I took my kids to a nice local park today and there were all sorts of park goodies: tire swings, regular swings, poles of all kinds, slides, bridges, etc. There was even a praying mantis on the overhead bar of one of the slides. My daughter spotted it and said, "The largest bug of your life is on this slide!" My youngest boy was amazed and stood there looking at it. I went over to touch it and study it and my oldest (who is ridiculously afraid of any bug---particularly mantises---he can hardly stomach looking at the one in his science book) yelped out that we were crazy to be so close to it. Finally I just picked up the thing with a toy gun and plopped it on some wood close to the trees. My daughter then felt free to resume slide playing.

Things got a little risky when I pushed my boys on the tire swing. They wanted to spin and spin and my oldest boy was nuts over it. My other boy was having a tough time. He was loving it but soon hated it because he kept saying that he was going to "barf." He eventually just sat on a bench looking white as a sheet until we had to leave. On the way home I wanted to go to the store to get some steaks since according to the weather forecast this will be one of the last of the warmer days before it really gets frigid. I want to grill. So, we stop over at the store and I am looking at steaks and my younger boy says, "Mom, I really feel like I am going to barf." He then puts his hand over his mouth and then I put my hand out to catch it all and of course it cascades all over my hands. Thankfully we were next to the restroom (Thank you God!) and I ran over there with my sick child and cleaned him up and proceeded to clean up the floor too. The pharmacy lady was like, "Ma'am, you don't need to clean that floor! We have mops to do that, you know!" She was talking to me in a patronizing way. It was annoying. I told her that I would prefer to clean up my own child's puke and she can feel free to mop it after that if she wants.

Then in the car my oldest asked if it were at all possible to "chuck down". I think he meant "down chuck".


Lye (Caustic Soda)

Yesterday I was on a quest for Sodium Hydroxide like the Holy Grail. Typically you find it next to the Draino in that section of the grocery store. Not yesterday. I have found it at the Sears Hardware but they did not have it. A really informed man (who watches a lot of tv specials) let me know that I need to be careful with that stuff because when I pour it down my sink and run water it will splash back in my face. I told him that I make soap with it, but he still insisted that I be careful when I pour it down my sink. I don't think the whole thing registered to him. Anyway, they did not have my lye there.
The kids and I went to Home Depot, Food Lion and Wal-mart hopping along singing "lye songs" and saying stuff like, "man, we only want to find some lye!" My oldest said in Home Depot that we should look in the "plumbing" section (mind you, he pronounced the "b" and I had to correct him). I need to make clear that I was not in the greatest of moods at this point in our hunt. I just wanted some lye, ok?
So, we went home defeated but I would not be! I called the Manassas grocery store to see if they had what their sister store did not have here in my town and behold! They did. I should have done that in the first place. Manassas has everything. People probably make soap in Manassas. Not snooty Fairfax. I ran down there with the kids and they each took a can of lye and we went to the check out.
I will not go on about our previous search for Sebastian Molding Mud! How frustrating!

And a Bowl Full of Mush

The other night we were pulling into the driveway and it was dark outside. My husband typically says, "Goodnight moon!" when the moon is big outside---for the kids. And he did. So my youngest says, "Goodnight Mr. Jesus!"


His Turn

The only thing I can think of off the top of my head where I have influenced the man of this house to be as "strange" as me (I am from California, give me a break) is sleeping with a pillow between my legs. I think my past influence in this was when I was a kid my best friend's mother (literally my "other mother") slept this way and I think we even had a conversation about it at some point. She told me that it was "comfortable". She stressed the further comfort of when you are hot, you can just stick the outside leg over the covers and then you are half hot, half cold which means you are perfectly conditioned. My husband thought I was a nut sleeping with the pillow between my legs for the first couple of years. He caught on though. It is supposed to give your back good balance, but we both still have horrible postures. Oh well. I really could go on about this subject forever---but let's just say that the man can not live without his pillow. The cool thing is that his spare pillow is inferior to mine. I get the good one because I thought of sleeping like that first.

Oh yes, I just thought of it. Music. I love Travis and Coldplay and have liked them since their debuts. The other half would act like he didn't like it at first. He would turn the music down when I would play it, shake his head---pretty much put up with it. Pretty soon I would be playing Rush of Blood to the Head and he would be turning it up or he would put the disc in himself. "Hmmm...," I thought. So, one bright winter day my greatest friend (L., who I miss) comes up to me and says, "Rach, are you having a bad day?" I said, "Well, not too bad, it is ok." She said, "I insist that you have a bad day! Tell me it is bad!" I said, "Well, ok, if you want me to have a bad day, sure, I'll have one." And then she tells me that she won two tickets to Coldplay (fourth row, mind you) by getting four James Taylor questions right on the radio. She always "wins stuff". This woman is incredible. She hears from her brother in law that Coldplay is coming to town,they are giving tickets away on the radio (and she doesn't even know who Coldplay is at this point, but KNOWS that I LOVE them) and so she listens intently every early morning to win the things for me. And she does. You know, because she always wins stuff. So we end up jumping up and down yelling fourth row at each other and Laura is purely excited because I am. She turned into a Coldplay fan when she won those tickets. Anyway, they were for us. She knew the other half did not care about them that much, so she was like, "It's you and me baby!"
I went home to tell Mr. Wilhelm. He got really quiet when I told him and sheepishly said, "Well, I wanna go."
To make an even longer story short, I bought he and my brother tickets and we lived happily ever after and went to the coolest concert of our lives.
But, the cool thing is that whenever Laura and I saw each other before the concert we would wave to the other with only four fingers. We would mouth "fourth row" and giggle. I would say that the fourth row is the best place to be.

I've Gone to the Dark Side

For years I have pestered my mid-western husband for putting "cream"(half & half) in his cold or hot cereal. I guess his whole family does it---I am not sure if it is a Minnesotan thing to do or if it is just a Wilhelm thing. I eat pretty low carb because of health reasons and so I try to stay away from drinking too much milk. I try to eat whole grain stuff instead of processed stuff (although I love all processed stuff). So, half and half is pretty whole, don't you think? I think so. It is somewhat low-carb, heck I want some flavor at this point, eh? So, you know, I am a believer. I LOVE it. Not just love it. I LOVE it. It is like turning health food into comfort food in one dip of the carton.

On another "dark side" note: I have hated popcorn my whole life. I can't explain why. My brother does too. I think, it is too salty, too buttery, just gross, because it sticks to my teeth. My sister in law got us this "Whirly Pop" for Christmas years ago and my husband adores the thing. You crank it and crank it over the stove and whalah! Out comes perfect popcorn that practically melts in your mouth. My husband has grown up with this stuff. I mean, it was a part of his daily life-style. Every night when the ten o'clock news would start his parents would tell him to make some popcorn because he was "the best at it." Yeah right. They ate this every night from what I hear. Who knows if it really was every night. Who cares. They ate it a lot. He used to make it, now guess who makes it. Yep. You guessed right. And why do I make it? You guessed it, because I am "the best at it." So, being the best, shouldn't I enjoy it at least a little? Yes, I do, regretfully. I rather liked being the one who did not like the popcorn and hated it. I was cooler then.



I have learned this week to hope in God, not in man. This life is but a breath (at times a meaningless one) and my hope should be set on the fact that I have a treasure in heaven and nothing will satisfy me on earth.
Don't you ever get that strange itch that wishes for something more exciting and you think going to England or going to Italy will fulfill it? C.S. Lewis says that those "itches" mean that we are meant for something else---something otherworldly. I believe it.



I think in parklife Damon Alburn talks about the "dustmen" waking him up (like my post yesterday). I thought that was funny. It is really hilarious that British people call garbage "dust." I learned that long ago when I read Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens (which is a splendid read, by the way). The main character lives next to a dust heap (I suppose a "dump") where the people then would gather and collect what they could salvage for an income. I suppose that is similar to our garage sale lovers. Sort of. All I know about the 1800's I know from the writers of the day (which may not be much). Cheeri--o.
Here is the site of one of my oldest friends: americanspark


The garbage men woke me up today.

I am tired.

I will really be tired later.

But I will drink coffee from my Wonder Woman cup and get into my invisible plane.


Chocolate Trees

Since moving from Idaho, there is not a day I don't think about my friend L. That spurs me to think of heaven and all the people that I am seperated from---my true family in Christ---all over the States. One of the delights of heaven will definitely be communing with my heavenly family with out sin!!! I look so forward to that. The fact that Jesus loves me and all of us as individuals brings me to my knees. Thank you, Lord, for all my friends that I will know forever! That thought right there makes me so euphoric. I miss L. now, but I will always know her and we can sit beneath my chocolate tree in heaven and eat to our fill without getting fat!


Purple Prancing Pony

My youngest child says that she wishes that she could be a "rainbow, unicorn, pegasus with magical powers." My husband said, "it is evident God created boys and girls to be different!" Then I remembered from the snippet I saw on "Napolean Dynamite" that Napolean was drawing a pegasus or some sort of mystical horse on his notebook. My husband refuses to see this movie just because everyone likes it and talks about it. This is the same with Titanic. I have never seen that movie either (not that I really want to). But, you know, same reasons. Everyone loves it, thinks it is great, and so we protest in our quiet way. Anyway, I am off the point like I so often do and it drives my husband crazy. I knew a guy like Napolean in High School. I mean, he wasn't really quirky like that, but he was just a little quiet, smart, smelly, and he wore horse shirts. So, sorry Wilhelm, some guys like horses---probably even mystical ones.


This is my niece's blog. She is hilarious. The Blog of Alisa


The Goal of Every Woman

I have run across so many friends that struggle as women with their identity and what they are to do with their lives. They struggle with who they are, what they are to do, and where they are to go. I have been there so many times and I tend to go there more than I should. I think, "what do I offer this world?" "What does God want me to do?" Everyone struggles with this stuff, but when you are a mother of young children or unmarried and waiting for that spouse, or just waiting for something different these questions crop up. I have put myself in the position where I thought that I had everything covered and I was doing everything in my power to get all of my chaos at a controllable level. I know we must all be content, all of us know that. The thought that came to my mind in this was the answer to "what am I to DO, Lord?"
What better thing is there than to be "precious in the sight of God"? I knew then that I should take 1 Peter 3:4 seriously when it says, "but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God."
I challenge all of my fellow women who read this to quit listening to the lie of the world that we are to be "something" to be worthy or to be a real individual. Whether we are mothers or single women with careers or no careers---that is where we are in life---God has placed us there. All the rest falls into place when we pursue God.


Johnathan Strange and Mr. Norrell

I brought this book with me to my little mini vacation on Chincoteague Island this past weekend and I could only allow myself about an hour of the whole time to read it. I mean, I guess I could have read it in the car on the way there (it lamely took us eight hours when "the other way" would have only taken us 4) but I get sick if I don't look out the window. I have raised my children to read books in the car so that they do not suffer this plight. Am I the only one?

Still on the book thing: I wanted to read the book but would not let myself. This is odd. I feel like books are mini vacations themselves. It is not really sensible for me to have a vacation from my vacation. It is a bit redundant. If I sat there and read a book the whole time I was on the beach I would not enjoy the beach! I would enjoy the book! Again, am I the only one?

So do you know what I did while my husband sat and read Folk on the Fringe to his utter delight? I made big holes in the sand and sweat myself silly like a kid. I think my oldest and I made two of the biggest holes in the sand that beach saw that week. I'd remember that more than I would remember a book.


Hats off to Noel Gallagher

Just went to the Oasis concert Thursday night. I was impressed with them, but Liam made me really tense! Of course in the usual Liam style he acted as if he did not want to be there and did stupid things. I could hardly bear when he began a song and then yelled at a roadie because he did not start singing at the right time and then began again (at least he did that). I think he was mad because he could not get his voice out the way he wanted. He did not whine so much in the usual fashion---at the end of phrases he would trail his voice off like he could care less. It was almost comical, but his body language said, "you stupid people." He would try to sing some note and couldn't hit it so he would cuss into the mic. It reminded me of a spoiled brat throwing a fit in a store or something. I have seen adults throw fits. The best way to describe the feeling of the onlooker is "embarrassed". At one point he said something before a song that said "will" or "wall" or something---who could understand that guy? How could he expect us to understand him? His accent is so thick it is like he is speaking a different language. I heard him yell, "You don't even appreciate it!!!" or at least that is what I thought I heard him yell. I was right because everyone went mad when "Wonderwall" started playing---no one could understand that he was introducing the song---the nit wit---if he would stop and realize that he is in America and we never hear thick Manchester accents on a regular basis. Everyone started singing with him and he threw a fit about that. He gave up in the middle of the song, said, "you sing it, you don't need me!" or something of that nature and walked off all "mad" to the other end of the stage. All the band members just stood there and acted like it was all normal. I kept looking at my husband and he just laughed and said that this is totally normal and he is actually being nicer than usual. How do you put up with this absurd man, Noel? To me, if they did not have Noel Gallagher, the whole band would be lost (of course). Noel's voice is better anyway.
My mom would always say "Poor Chuck" whenever Chuck Woolery would blush with embarrassment at a person mentioning unmentionables on his dating show (if anyone remembers it you have a good memory). In the same way I say, "Poor Noel"!