I like vegetables, especially if they're raw, but in many ways I have not recovered from my childhood opinion that vegetables are something you eat because they're good for you.  Occasionally I encounter a vegetable dish that erodes my prejudice, and this is one of them.  It can hardly even be called a recipe, but I share it anyway because it was so good.

We were having company for dinner on short notice, and I wanted a quick but substantial vegetable dish that would be slightly fancier than usual.  Since we were grilling chicken, I decided to use our grill wok for the veggies.  I'll admit I chose the particular items as much for color as for taste:  chunks of asparagus, onion, bell pepper, yellow summer squash, and carrot; I also went all out and included a package of "gourmet" mushrooms.  Choosing not to worry that the items would require different cooking times, I threw them all into a bowl, marinated them briefly (10-15 minutes) in olive oil (extra virgin), apple cider vinegar (unpasteurized), minced garlic, and a little sugar (to give the vegetables a nice glaze; not enough to make them sweet), and put them on the grill (in the grill wok, of course).  After that, all I did was stir them occasionally and let them cook a while (time will vary depending on quantity).

The result?  A beautiful dish with an amazing variety of colors, tastes, and textures.  If the asparagus tips were well done and the carrots barely cooked, that enhanced, rather than detracted, from the effect.  And it tasted really, really good.

I'm sure these vegetables were also really, really good for me.  But that's not why I ate them.  :)

My friends and family know how unobservant I can be.  When I'm focused on one thing, all else recedes to near invisibility.  At the grocery store I can pass a good friend without knowing he is there, because, well, I'm looking for food, not friends.  Advertising is more or less wasted on me; in a newspaper, magazine, or online I simply do not see the ads on the periphery of what I am reading.

However, that's no excuse for reading stories of the Virginia Tech tragedy and letting slide the oft-repeated comment that this was "the worst mass murder in U. S. history."  (Thanks to Tim at Random Observations for opening my eyes.)  I tend to ignore hyperbole as I ignore advertising, but this should have whacked me over the head.

I'm not belittling the tragedy; for those whose loved ones were killed it makes little difference how many others died.  Death is strikingly individual.  But I am more than annoyed at reporting inaccuracies and their mindless replication.  The death toll at Virginia Tech is not much more than one percent of that of the 9/11 attacks—less than six years later and the media have already forgotten?  What about the Oklahoma City bombing?  An obvious counterexample from 'way back in the early days of our country would be certain Indian attacks, not to mention slaughters of the Native Americans themselves, which killed more people in absolute numbers and even more dramatically when considered as a percentage of the population.  Limiting the field to school deaths, and adding "in modern times" does not help, since the Bath School bombing killed 45 people in 1927.  I'm ready to be corrected, but I think one can safely go with "the worst mass school shooting in America."  Bad enough, certainly, but far from the original headlines.

I've been around over half a century, and every single time I've seen a media report (print or TV) about a subject I knew personally, it has been inaccurate. Usually—though not always—the errors were only minor ones, introduced by a reporter who lacked either the time or the inclination to truly understand the story. Or, to give the reporters their due, it might have been equally clueless editors who fouled up the story. In any case, accuracy is sacrificed to expediency: there are deadlines, and most people won't notice or care as long as we get the general flavor of the story correct. 

These days, when the line between news story and editorial is blurred to nonexistence, even the general flavor is likely to be wrong. And our broad and high-speed communications network ensures the near-instant propagation of these errors all over the world.

Many of the news reports of Isaac's birth and death had the dates wrong, and at least one had him born in Philadelphia instead of Pittsburgh.  It can be argued that these are details that do not change the truth of the story.  (As a genealogist, however, I am reminded that the old newspapers from which I garner vital records information on my ancestors may be equally inaccurate, and for this purpose the details are the story.)  Nonetheless, the question looms large:  If I cannot trust a report in the small things, what confidence can I have in its major points?  (He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much: and he that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much.)

The only solution I can see involves many sources, much diligence, and hard work.  Which is why we will continue to accept as truth that which we read and hear, at least if it agrees with what we already think we know.

Since everything turned out all right, I have to post this link to Serina's Crazy Afternoon.  It's as funny as any comedy show, much cleaner than most, and has a happy ending.  Serina writes so well!  Li'l Writer Guy nearly indulged in a fit of jealous pique, but fortunately his sense of humor won out.

I've always found Amazon.com's "Better Together" feature to be mildly amusing, since every time they've offered me a "deal" to buy another book with the one I'm interested in, the price has been no deal at all, just the sum of the two individual prices.  So I rarely even bother to look at the offer.

However, while investigating possible toaster ovens (ours recently having self-destructed in a spectacular, fiery death), I came upon this offer which I share with you now.

Swordplay has always been a major part of my extended family's get-togethers, from plastic tube "swords" for the younger ones to realistic wooden swords as they grew.  No one has yet taken to fencing formally, but maybe they should.  This morning's Orlando Sentinel featured an article on how fencing improves mathematical skills.  Apparently it improves spacial awareness, geometric visualization, abstract reasoning and other mathematical concepts through physical action.

That doesn't surprise me as much as it once might have, since I have been hearing a lot lately about the critical importance of physical activity (such as crawling, creeping, walking, running, brachiation, and activities that stimulate the vestibular system) for mental and intellectual development.

En garde!

I'm supposed to be writing about our trip to Europe, but the discussion on a friend's blog (begun here and continued here) tempted me to respond, and why waste a long essay in just one place?

The discussion began with the statement, "I loathe the spanking of children," and some very interesting comments followed.  Herewith my own contribution.

I see no mandate in the Bible either for spanking or for not spanking, so I believe we have to make our own decisions based on general Biblical principles, sound reasoning and experience.  I come down firmly on both sides.  :)

The trouble with the term spanking is that it is so broad as to be almost meaningless.  Think about words like Christian and you'll know what I mean that it's nearly impossible to make general statements.  Still, I will try.

On a very basic level, one must ask the question, Do parents have the right to punish their children?  If the answer is no, the debate ends there.  So I begin with the premise that parents have not only the right, but the duty; that the setting and enforcing of rules is a necessary part of rearing children.

In a well-regulated, healthy home, punishment is a very small element of the total picture.  Discipline, socialization, and the "nurture and admonition of the Lord" are much, much more than rules and punishments, just as our relationship with God far transcends the Law.  Another basic premise of my argument is that the punishment in question takes place in the context of a loving, supportive family where children are honored and respected.

Love is not permissive, but will arrange as much as possible for the child to succeed.  Leaving many breakable knick-knacks within his reach is not the best way to teach a child respect for other people's property.  If we let our yeses be many, our noes will have more meaning, and more power.

When rules are broken, most often it is through ignorance, inexperience, carelessness, or accident on the part of the child, who is still learning his way in the world.  Such events, I believe, require patience, explanation, and education rather than punishment.  Sometimes, however, the disobedience is willful, deliberate, and with full knowledge of what he is doing.  This, too, is part of the child's learning; he must test the limits to see if they are true.  In this case, I believe punishment is necessary, and we fail as parents if we do not give our children the security of firm boundaries.

But what form should that punishment take?  I would argue that there is no one, right answer for all families, nor for all children in the same family, nor for any one child at all times or in all situations.  Those who wish a clear, precise formula for bringing up children hope for something that does not and cannot exist.  The job of a parent requires wisdom, not a set script.

I don't need to go any further than our own extended family to see evidence that healthy, happy, secure, and disciplined children can be brought up both with and without spanking, so arguments that either philosophy is harmful in itself bear little weight with me.  And I have seen marvelous examples of better ways of handling certain situations that I, myself, might have dealt with by spanking.

That said, I believe spanking has a place in a parent's disciplinary toolbox, and am appalled at legislative attempts to have it banned.  First, let me explain what spanking meant at our house, not that we were always successful in carrying out this ideal.  Spanking was almost exclusively reserved for deliberate disobedience, ended when the children were quite young (I don't remember when; probably before age five, having become more and more infrequent as the years passed), and was an "event," not a casual swat.  Whenever possible, I would take the child into a private space, explain both the infraction and the reason for punishment, administer just as many barehanded swats as was necessary to produce sorrowful tears (generally two or three), and follow it up with lots of hugs, comfort, and reassurances of restoration to grace.  Then it was over.  Period.  No recriminations, no nagging reminders of past failures.  Over and done with.  Our children undoubtedly will have something to say about how successful we were in our implementation, but that was the theory, and I think it worked quite well.  (In reference to Jon's comment that spanking seems to work better for dads than for moms, I did not find that to be the case.  It worked very well for me.  What I never did master was "the look" that dads seem to be able to give that compels instant obedience.)

I respect spanking as a tool because I believe it is often the kindest of punishments.  We obscure the issues when we use inflammatory terms like "hitting a child," and "violence" to describe spanking.  One could just as easily refer to a timeout as imprisonment, or taking a way a toy as theft.  All three of these actions involve the forcible imposition of the adult's will on the child.  I have used each of them in my time, depending on what is appropriate to the circumstances.  Abuse of a toy is logically followed by its removal until the child can behave more responsibly; antisocial behavior begets banishment until the child is ready to act reasonably.  But consequences unrelated to the infraction, such as the taking away of a favorite toy when the offense is deliberate disobedience, do violence to the child whether or not there is physical contact.   Spanking has the advantage of being over quickly, so that the issue is dealt with, the lesson learned, and the offense forgiven and forgotten within a short duration, much more appropriate to a young child's sense of time.

Natural consequences teach best—if you live long enough.  The natural consequence of a child's not instantly obeying a parent's command to stop might be that he is run over by a car.  In much the same way as a vaccine is a small assault intended to prevent a deadly illness, our job as parents often involves inflicting small amounts of pain on our children in order to spare them greater suffering.  Pain, as C. S. Lewis said, is God's megaphone.  We do not spare our children pain by not spanking them; all punishment causes pain.  It is only a question of form, duration, and degree.

Spanking, I believe, is not necessary.  Human beings are designed to learn in a great variety of situations and by a great variety of means.  But neither do I think it cruel.  Appropriately administered it can be one of the kindest techniques in a parent's repertoire.  As with all of our parenting decisions, we must always look at the results.  As John Holt said, "We ought all to keep asking ourselves, Where are you trying to get, and are you getting there?"  Sadly, the jury is out on our parenting techniques until we're grandparents, or even longer.  But we can usually get a good picture of the direction in which we are moving, especially if we have friends willing to be honest with us.

We just returned from a dream vacation in Europe—hmmm, that sounds a bit pretentious, doesn't it?  But it's true.  It had all the earmarks of a great vacation—visiting with family and friends, wonderful weather, awesome food, more to see and do than we could take in—plus a view of other countries and cultures from the inside, and a stay at at fairy tale castle to boot!

Li'l Writer Guy went quite crazy, having so much to say and no time nor opportunity to say it.  I trust he will be able to deciper his hastily-scribbled manuscripts and produce both chronological description and commentary while I'm unpacking and trying to catch up with "normal" life.  In the meantime, here are some random thoughts inspired by our trip.  Bear in mind that we only experienced small parts of France and Switzerland (and a minuscule portion of Germany), though I will occasionally use the terms "Europe" and "European" for convenience.

The last time I was in Europe (France, Switzerland, northern Italy, and England) was in 1969.  One of my vivid memories from then was the great variety of toilet paper I encountered, all of it unpleasant:  I catalogued waxed paper, brown paper bag paper, almost anything scratchy and non-absorbant short of corn cobs and banana leaves.  (I was in high school and given to odd amusements.)  This trip, I'm happy to say, was quite a different experience; all the paper was effective and skin-friendly.  Sad to say, there were none of Japan's cool toilet styles, but all were clean and easy to use, though we did encounter quite a variety of flushing mechanisms that were sometimes a bit tricky to discern, from a button on the floor to pull-levers to ones that blended in with the toilet tank to big flush/little flush choices.

I've heard a lot about European rudeness, especially to Americans and especially in Paris, but that was not our experience at all.  We encountered one rude Parisian taxi driver, and one Parisian bus driver was a bit abrupt—he had some excuse, since I later realized I'd asked him, not how long it took the bus to get to the train station, but how often it went there.  Other than that, everyone was exceedingly friendly and helpful, and more than patient in attempting to communicate in French, even though their English was much, much better than my French.  I'd say the same for Janet/Switzerland/German, except that her German is quite good by now.  That reminds me—there was one waitress in Luzern who was impatient even with Janet's German, but we were in a touristy place.  In general we followed this most excellent advice giving by a friend, and had a lovely experience:

Whatever you do, avoid cafes that have big menus in English. This is where tourists get their ideas that Parisians are rude. Parisians are lovely...tourist waiters are rude (same as anywhere). So, if you have an amazing view of a monument, a big menu in English, and the sodas are 6€ each, you're in the wrong cafe.

We were only gone two weeks, but still experienced culture shock upon returning.  I'm not going to go on a Europe is good, America is bad rant.  There are aspects of each culture that enchant, and those that appall.  One thing that saddened me upon our return was how unfriendly America must seem to visitors.  For one thing, when we landed in Chicago, everything was in English except an initial welcome sign.  I'm all for English as the one official language of the United States, but it shouldn't be so hard for visitors to find their way through the confusing maze of entering this country.

A vistor could also be justified in thinking his reception rude.  No smiles from the officials, no small talk, just suspicious looks and gruff, businesslike grunts, single words, and gestures.  "Welcome home," I thought grimly.  After rechecking our bags post-Customs, we lingered to examine the information board for the gate of our connecting flight.  There was a man there whose job was to give out that information, which was good, except that he said it in such a curt way we felt as if all he wanted to accomplish was to get us out of the way.  The trouble was, the gate he told us did not correspond with the gate on the board.  He was not happy when we pointed this out, and rudely informed us that the flight was delayed.  Did I say rudely?  Well, I thought so at the time.  But as we were walking away, I said "Thank you," and the man reached out for my arm, saying in a much softer and friendlier voice, "Thank you.  I was giving out the wrong information."  I don't think he had meant to be rude at all, and probably the other officials didn't either.  It's too bad they came across that way.

There was one encourging sign upon reentering the U.S.  Among the many lines at Passport Control ("U.S. Passport Holders and U.S. Residents," "Visitors," "Wheelchair," "Military," "Flight Crew") was one specifically labelled "Refugees."

Another reentry shock was noise.  Sheer volume.  A bevy of teenage girls talking at shriek-level.  Background music everywhere.  Everything, in general, at high decibels.  No wonder Americans are so stressed.  If Europe (our small glimpse of it, at least) was anything, it was quiet.  Nearly every restaurant in which we ate had no background music, and the patrons were consequently quiet as well, being able to converse without shouting.  Even in the cities, even in Paris, the general volume was much less than in the U.S.  Sheer bliss!

On the other hand, smoke was as pervasive there as noise is here.  In an unpleasant reminder of what eating out was like here 30 years ago, we had difficulty finding restaurants where cigarette smoke did not diminish the pleasure of the meal.  (Come to think of it, this is still true in North Carolina.)  If Europeans are generally more health conscious than Americans, this is a strking exception.

Lawyers have not yet ruined Europe.  We climbed all over the Münster Cathedral tower, a feat that would have insurance companies shrieking "lawsuit" here at home.

Polticians, on the other hand, have done damage that is so pervasive the natives don't even realize it.  Socialism is deeply ingrained.  They speak proudly of their "free" or heavily subsidized social programs, heath care, education, and transportation, while taking for granted punitively high taxes, and not acknowledging that the system is in many ways unravelling, nor counting the heavy cost exacted on freedom of choice.  France's free day care system must sound ideal to some, but to me it screams that families who are already sacrificing so that mothers can be home to rear their own children must pay so that other families can have two incomes.

European food has ruined me!  Specifically, bread.  I used to think we generally ate good bread in our family:  homemade bread, bread from the bakery section of the store, 100% whole wheat sandwich bread.  But I came home to find that the Publix bakery French bread that I thought was so good now tastes like Wonder Bread.  :(  More than that, the texture is wrong.  In France and Switzerland, even the white bread fights back a little when you chew it.  I was excited to find blood oranges at a local specialty store, but this California variety was dry, mealy, and bland compared with what we enjoyed in Basel (which came from either Spain or Israel, I forget which).  Unpasteurized milk is legal to buy in France (though we didn't have any), and organic milk no more expensive than the ordinary kind.  This trip did nothing to diminish my belief that Americans eat too much because we're trying to make up with quantity for lack of quality, searching for the flavor we know should be in our food.

That's enough for this post.  Li'l Writer Guy needs to step aside in favor of Li'l Housekeeper, or some such mythical being....

Joshua T. White, of the Institute for Global Engagment, spent a year in Peshawar, Pakistan, as the guest of the provincial chief minister, a radical Islamist leader. His insights, which he shares in this Christianity Today article, are well worth reading.

We just received a very cool picture in the mail, from Jonathan, and I had to share it with those of you who will appreciate it as much as I do (or nearly so).  He drew it on the 24th of this month.  Click on the preview picture for a better look.

Here is the explanation that came with the picture:

A guy operating a crane.  The line on the bottom is the tread.  The circle on his face is his ear.  The crane is hooking the controls, but it is not driving itself.

He wanted to draw Jesus for you, but said he didn't know how.  So he drew a crane.

Once again, Tim at Random Observations has provided post which I must pass on.  (Warning:  Yes, it's depressing, but worth reading, really.)  First, read his commentary, You're Just Another (Lego) Brick in the Wall... about an after-school program in Seattle, where teachers took over the children's imaginative Lego play and turned it into a chance for socialist indoctrination.  For a more direct view of the teachers' perspective, read their original article, Why We Banned Legos.

To Tim's insightful post I will only add this:  What about the parents?  Where were they when all this was going on?  Were they expecting childcare and maybe some help with math and reading from this afterschool program?  Did they know their children were getting a heavy dose of politics and indoctrination in values—politics and values possibly in direct opposition to the parents' own?  Certainly most parents would have a few issues with this part of the lesson:

[W]e explored questions about how rules are made and enforced, and when they ought to be followed or broken. We aimed to help children see that all rules (including social structures and systems) are made by people with particular perspectives, interests, and experiences that shape their rule-making. And we wanted to encourage them to consider that there are times when rules ought to be questioned or even broken....

The children were between the ages of five and nine, perhaps not the best ages at which to tell them that obeying their parents' rules is optional.  On the other hand, perhaps the teachers will eventually receive due retribution in the form of students who have decided that the school's rules are not worth following.  Alas, it's probably the high school teachers who will bear that cost.

It was the title that struck me:

Study spotlights prenatal beef consumption

I found the image of tiny babies-in-utero chowing down on hamburgers quite amusing.

But the results of a study by researchers at my former employer, the University of Rochester Medical Center, are not funny at all.  Men whose mothers ate a lot of beef during their pregnancy were found to have a risk of fertility problems three times greater than normal, with 25% below normal sperm counts.  If this is due, as many suspect, to the hormones fed to beef cattle, there is good reason to believe that girl babies are adversely affected as well.

I'm no vegetarian, but organic meat is looking more and more to be worth the exorbitant cost.

I was going to e-mail these pictures to Grandpa W., from whose long-ago gift of amarylis bulbs these beauties are descended, but then decided to share them with all who might enjoy them, natsukashii or otherwise.

 

The day care debate would be only of mild interest to me, given that despite my own strong feelings on the matter, I equally strongly believe that circumstances can be complicated and parents are the best ones to make childrearing decisions for their own families—I say it would be only of mild interest were it not for the growing number of people who believe that "free" day care (paid for by taxes, of course) is the hallmark of civilization.

The other reason I present to you this article on the lastest results from the largest and longest-running study of American child care is the final paragraph.

The bad news, for families who avail themselves of day care centers, is that no matter how highly rated the center is, their children are statistically more likely to exhibit disruptive and aggressive behavior, even as late as sixth grade.  The good news is that the effect is small, and as compensation they'll have better vocabularies.

As one might imagine, those for whom any negative news about day care would be as welcome as positive news about smoking were quick to find fault with the study.  I could do so myself, noting that they would likely find even greater differences if they also considered the quality of home care, or the fact that all of the children in the study were consigned to day care centers in the form of school once they reached kindergarten age.  But it was the complaint that the study's measure of day care center quality left out important factors that drew my attention, to wit the last paragraph of the article:

The study did not take into account employee turnover that can have a negative effect on children, said Marci Young of the Center for the Child Care Workforce, which represents day-care workers.

There is no recognition in the article of the lovely irony here, for what is day care but "employee turnover" on a daily basis?

I remember the response, too.

I've written about the human papilloma virus (HPV) vaccine campaign before.  Now I want to share this excellent article by Gina R. Dalfonzo from Christianity Today, (22 March 07) which begins,

You've probably seen the commercials. Over the last few months, it's been almost impossible not to see them. They parade endlessly across our screens—a multitude of women of all ages, from all backgrounds—and they all have the same urgent message to share: "Tell someone that human papillomavirus causes cervical cancer. Tell someone. Tell someone. Tell someone."

To which I can only respond, "We tried."

Many years ago, members of the Family Research Council, a Christian public policy group in Washington, DC, tried to publicize the connection between HPV and cervical cancer, and the fact that condoms are not an effective protection agains the virus.  They were trashed, bashed, and outshouted by the media and organizations such as Planned Parenthood and the Sexuality Information and Education Council of the U.S. (SIECUS), which claimed they were just trying to get people to stop having sex, and anyway the number of people who would actually get cervical cancer from HPV was so small it was not worth worrying about.

The article is quite right, and well worth reading in its entirety.  I remember both the warning and the reaction.

What would be amusing if it weren't so sad is that the same people who once pooh-poohed the HPV-cancer connection are now trumpeting it loudly—but are still bashing the FHC, this time for not jumping on the bandwagon to coerce every girl, not just the small number who would benefit from it, to receive this new and mostly unnecessary vaccine.

In Arizona, the winning team in the kindergarten through sixth grade category of the recent state scholastic chess championship must know that their victory is tainted.

At least I hope so.

The defending champions were not allowed to compete this year, because they are a team of homeschooled students, and this year they were ruled ineligible because they do not all come from the same school.  Well, duh!  It's hard to field a team when your school comprises no more than a handful of students covering a wide age span.

The rule was created, I suppose, to keep teams from being formed across school boundaries, and the one who creates a contest should have the right to set the rules.  However, it does make it clear that the intention is more about promoting schools than about encouraging excellence or chess playing.  Leaving homeschooling out of the question, why shouldn't friends who attend different schools be able to form their own teams and compete?  This isn't Japan, where school is life, and loyalty to one's school a cardinal virtue.

"State Champions" has a hollow ring when you know you've defeated your opponents by legal maneuvering rather than chess prowess.