“Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near. Even so, when you see all these things, you know that it is near, right at the door. I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” –Jesus (Matthew 24:32-34)
One thing different, this year: I was formulating my very first solo PowerPoint presentations. (Yeah, I know, NOW that they are becoming passé!) I was totally consumed with learning this new-to-me tool.
Another big difference was that I am now doing everything here, myself. No kids to help out. So, while there is less dust falling, less mud gobbing, and less bathtub ringing, every single daytime chore has fallen onto me. Hubs helps with things when he’s here, evenings, but . . .
Third—and I realize there is reason to rejoice for each of these—we now spend at least one whole day, per week, in another town, working on our possible second career.
So I could not work ahead and schedule posts for while I was gone. The best I could do was drag my laptop along and try to keep up with y’all.
Therefore, I have decided to try something different, which is to condense my topics into blog posts so you can see if you would like to order, soon, the audio version of them on CD. I receive no payment, but would be happy to share these with you.
I did speak on burnout. Moms, with all the kids at home and all the neighbors gone cha$ing rainbow$, can burn out. What does that look like?
It comes in two stages, both related to fire, as I related in my workshop.
The exciting stage of burnout looks like an explosion. Mom goes berserk and soon will have nothing left to give. The more lack-luster stage looks more like what we call it, “burnout”, because Mom is plain gone, out of fuel, spent.
Nothin’ cold as ashes . . .
I once posted on the song, “Pass it On” which begins: “It only takes a spark to get a fire going.” In that post, I told of how to build a one-match fire in the fireplace, and that was my intro to this workshop. However, I quickly relocated that fire in a forest and told of what foresters do to prevent forest fires.
They fight fire with fire.
In the cooler seasons when fire danger is low, they start a smart fire that can easily be controlled. They actually call this fire a “control burn”. Using drip torches, they, YES, start a forest fire, carefully watched by several professionals wielding special heavy-duty rakes and shovels, and backed up with bulldozers. The purpose is to remove all the dead, deadly debris on the forest floor, making it difficult to ignite with a careless cigarette thrown out on a hot, windy day. These lower temperature fires do no damage to mature trees, because the thick bark on them insulates the living part of the tree from the lower heat.
It’s a bit like an immunization for a forest.*
And I wonder—what kind of “debris” is in my life, that could cause a big “fire” with just the right spark and leave us with everything within me — gone?
And I wonder that about yours, too.
* (Incidentally, your state probably provides heavy fines for doing this at home, without knowing what you are doing. Don’t play with fire.)
I found a quote that glorifies motherhood and debated whether it is self-glorifying. I decided it praises the office of motherhood, not any particular person, and is beneficial to consider, I think, so here it is.
I’ll be speaking at a home schooling convention this weekend and must finish my PowerPoint slides, iron, and who knows what else, these next three days, so you’ll excuse me if I’m absent, I know. I’ll likely have time to reply, but not to post. If you get too bored, do not forget to slip over to the new site: TheConqueringMom.com, and leave a comment or suggestion! Thanks!
“A mother…by her planning and industry night and day, by her willfulness of love, by her fidelity, she brings up her children. Do not read to me the campaigns of Caesar and tell me nothing about Napoleon’s wonderful exploits. For I tell you that, as God and the angels look down upon the silent history of that woman’s administration, and upon those men-building processes which went on in her heart and mind through a score of years;—nothing exterior, no outward development of kingdoms, no empire-building, can compare with what mother has done. Nothing can compare in beauty, and wonder, and admirableness, and divinity itself, to the silent work in obscure dwellings of faithful women bringing their children to honor and virtue and piety.” Henry Ward Beecher
A freshman at Eagle Rock Junior High won first prize at the Greater Idaho Falls Science Fair on April 26, 1997. He was attempting to show how conditioned we have become to alarmists practicing junk science and spreading fear of everything in the environment.
In his project, he urged people to sign a petition demanding strict control or total elimination of the chemical, dihydrogen monoxide, and for plenty of good reasons, since:
It can cause excessive sweating and vomiting.
It is a major component in acid rain.
It can cause severe burns in its gaseous state.
Accidental inhalation can kill you.
It contributes to erosion.
It decreases effectiveness of automobile brakes.
It has been found in tumors of terminal cancer patients.
It is present in very high concentrations, in almost every home in the United States.
The student asked 50 people if they supported a ban of the chemical. Of the 50, 43 said yes, six were undecided, and only one knew that the “chemical” was water.
The title of his prize-winning project was, “How Gullible Are We?”
He believes the conclusion is obvious.
Of course, this is an old, old, fun story, but just wanted to make sure everyone has heard it. Rather proud of this guy.
Home's Cool! 