Lift Up Your Hearts!

As Janet has mentioned (in her comment on My Lenten Disciplines), nothing sends me to sleep faster than staring at the television set:  broadcast show, DVD movie, or even a Teaching Company lecture that I'm particularly interested in seeing, it matters not.  There's something about the experience that triggers the sleep reflex in me.  Oddly, it's a particularly pleasant sleep, too—perhaps it hearkens back to childhood days of drifting off to the incomprehensible yet comforting sound of adult voices.  Thus I couldn't help noticing when two consecutive comics (Baldo and Hi and Lois) in my morning routine hit that nerve.

For those of you who don't read Heather and Jon's blog, I can't resist posting this view of life through the eyes of a four-year-old living in a geek house in this new century:

We happened to get two pictures in the mail, and Jonathan was holding them and looking at them. Then he piped up, "How do you get pictures to look like this?" Like what? This is a 21st century boy—he meant how do they get on paper.

It's another one of those things I lived without just fine, thank you, though now I wonder why I waited so long.  Blame an outdated sense of the cost of webcams; I never imagined I could buy one for under $100, much less under $30.  But thanks to Stephan, Janet, and Best Buy, I'm all set.

It has been great to be able to see Janet when I talk with her, as well as for her to be able to initiate phone calls.  Now I'm having double the fun (or five times as much, depending on how you calculate it) because another of my favorite families has joined the video Skype crowd.  I'm sure the excitement will wear off after a while, but for now I'm enjoying lots of smiles, hugs, I-love-yous, what's-happening-now, and best of all those dear faces and voices.  I love to get those quick little text messages that say things like "Hi! I finished my math and am now going to do writing," with plenty of music note and hugging teddy bear emoticons.

And this morning?  This morning I was the delighted one-person, long-distance audience for a cello concert!

Now here's something we don't see every day.  In fact, this is the first time.  I looked out the front window, saw a flock of ibis (or ibises if you prefer) standing around on our street!

  

Then they started marching.

Our neighbor, who is reroofing his house, made a sudden noise, and they flew off.

(As usual, click on the preview pictures for a larger view, and click on the links to see the videos.) 

I am on an Andrew Pudewa kick.  I first discovered his Institute for Excellence in Writing through an online forum for early childhood education, and—as usual—once I'd heard of him, his name started coming to my attention in other ways.  A friend of ours is the principal of a private Christian school which emphasizes academic excellence as well as a solid Christian worldview, and she and her teachers waxed so enthusiastic about his program for teaching writing that she even sent me a sample videotape of one of his lectures.  It didn't take me long to get hooked.  For the first three minutes, I found Pudewa's voice to be annoying; after that I was so intrigued by what he was saying and how he was presenting it that it didn't matter.

Now I'm not averse to spending money on educational materials for our grandkids, but they're not yet old enough for the writing materials, which are a bit pricey to buy on speculation, especially since there might well be a subsequent edition or two by the time they would be used.  Fortunately for my curiosity, one of our favorite homeschooling families was impressed enough to try it out, and I'm looking forward to hearing about their experiences. (More)

I love the season of Lent.  Not only because of all the great hymns associated with it, but because of the new possibilities it opens up.  At face value, idea of giving something up for Lent is a negative one, and a rather poor picture of the one at whose "right hand are pleasures forevermore."  Whether we observe Lent by abstention from something pleasurable, or by some positive action, I believe God's purpose in the exercise is to unshackle us from old habits and open our hearts to something new and better.

Thus I have at different times celebrated Lent in various ways, from a more traditional fasting from sweets to "fasting" from making negative comments (harder than you think!) to making myself listen daily to a genre of music I dislike ("praise and worship songs") to listing, at the close of every day, five things for which I was thankful (a lovely exercise).  Lenten disciplines are much more fun than New Year's resolutions, because you only commit yourself from Ash Wednesday till Easter.  Thus it's easier to experiment, to be more daring, to test new ideas and practices.  (More)

We've heard the story for years, how Grandma's cousin was captain of an icebreaker and had a place in Antarctica named for him.  But is it Truth or Tapioca?  Thanks to the Australian Antarctic Data Center and the U.S.G.S. Geographic Names Information System, we now have Evidence! (Click here for an interactive map.)

Feature Name:	Porters Pinnacles
Class:	Island
Latitude:	713300S
Longitude:	0990900W
Description:	A group of low ice-covered rocks forming a menace to navigation along the N coast of Thurston Island, located about 4 mi N of the E extremity of Glacier Bight. Discovered by the USN Bellingshausen Sea Expedition in February 1960, and named for Cdr. Philip W. Porter, Jr., USN, commander of the icebreaker USS Glacier which made this discovery.

After spending a much longer time than planned in Daytona Beach (see Part 1), I began the return drive with a great longing for home, a simple meal, a cup of hot tea, and something indulgent in the way of mental activity.  I did get them all, eventually, though much later than planned.

I was nearly to Sanford when the car suddenly bucked; I can't think of a better word to describe it.  It continued to drive without apparent difficulty, but with a rather strained noise apparently coming from the engine.  At that point I realized that, though it's possible I might have been able to drive home, (1) I could be doing damage to the car that would make repair impossible or at least significantly more expensive, and (2) if I pulled over soon there was room to get well off the road, whereas if I continued further towards the city I might break down on a bridge, or in some other difficult spot—and in rush-hour traffic.  So I pulled off onto the grass and noted that the engine sounded fine as long as I wasn't moving.  Reluctantly, I turned the engine off, not knowing if it would start again, though it didn't matter because I'd already made the decision to call AAA. (More)

The day began with the sound of the alarm at 4:45 a.m.  Normally I don't have trouble awakening in the morning, even at that hour, but for some reason it was hard this time, which perhaps signaled what the rest of the day had in store.

I exaggerate a bit.  It could have been much worse. (More)

Orlando set a record low high yesterday, meaning the high of 49 degrees was the lowest ever recorded for January 2.  A hard freeze was forcast for last night (mid to upper 20's for several hours) so we took the standard precautions:  covered the plants (with their precious tomatoes, peppers, and new blossoms), turned the pool pump on, set the outside faucets on trickle, and set the recycled water to spray the grapefruit tree.  (Let me tell you, the water which I would have otherwise called very cold felt positively tropical on my hands, compared with the air.)  It must not have been as bad as predicted, however, because the temperature on our back porch was a hair over 40 degrees at 5:30 this morning.  The plants seem to have survived, even though there were spectacular icicles on the grapefruit tree through most of the morning.

I've been making soup stock, enjoying the peculiar situation in which I can have the oven and stove on for hours and not make any obvious difference in the warmth of the kitchen.  Soup-making is a cold-weather sport, and this has been our first opportunity this year to enjoy it. 

I'll write in further detail about my wonderful Christmas present from Porter, the outcome of the debate detailed in this post.  But while reading the Safety and Warranty Guide for my new computer, I came upon this admonition and could go no further without reporting it:

Do not operate your computer inside furniture, as this might increase the risk of overheating. 

My mind boggled trying to imagine what piece of furniture I might wish to be inside, even if I could imagine how to get there.  I finally decided this must be a very generic booklet that doesn't realize this is a laptop computer—after all, it did also tell me to keep the cover closed whenever the computer is plugged in. (More)

You haven't lived until you've been awakened at precisely 6:30 Christmas morning to the glorious strains of O Come, All Ye Faithful on the clarinet just outside your bedroom door!  And very nicely played I must say.

I watched Santa fly over Austria and Germany, so I assume he made his deliveries in Switzerland  already; it will be CHristmas in CH in less than an hour.

We're listening to Irish music here, which makes me happy and sad at the same time.  Soon we'll have a great fondue dinner and then go to church before returning for dessert fondue and hanging our stockings.  We just finished making dream cookies to leave for Santa, along with carrots for the reindeer.

Janet, here's a genuine, real, just for you, Christmas hug from T!  [[[[[[[Janet]]]]]]]

We love and miss you so much!   (Along with all the other loved ones we aren't with this Christmas.)

They say trying new things keeps your mind young.  I should be in good shape, having recently ventured into two areas I was sure I'd never touch, finding them useless at best.  One is Facebook, which I had classed—along with MySpace and LifeJournal—as boring, yet time-wasting websites for teenaged girls to gossip and bully each other, and for sexual predators to troll for victims.  But Janet was invited to join by her oboe professor, so how could she say no?  Then she had so much fun finding people with whom she'd lost contact that I decided to see what it was all about.

No doubt it is a good place for teenaged bullying and dangerous liasons, but it doesn't have to be, and I've been surprised at how many friends I've found or been found by already.  I love sending Christmas letters, because it keeps us in contact with friends whose lives for the most part no longer intersect with ours.  I sense that this logic has no appeal to the Facebook generation, which may never lose that contact.  Perhaps the greatest danger (predators and bullies aside) is in being overwhelmed by trivial, shallow contact.  The signal-to-noise ratio is rather poor.  At least in a Christmas letter one is forced by space limitations to keep to the more important issues. (More)