Living in Never Land

I won't grow up

I don't wanna go to school

Just learn to be a parrot

And recite a silly rule

If growing up means

It would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree,

I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up

Not me!

Not I,

Not me!

Not me!

I won't grow up

I don't wanna wear a tie.

And a serious expression

In the middle of July.

And if it means I must prepare

To shoulder burdens with a worried air,

 

I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up

Not me

Not I,

Not me!

So there!

Never gonna be a man,

I won't!

Like to see somebody try

And make me.

Anyone who wants to try

And make me turn into a man,

Catch me if you can.

I won't grow up.

Not a penny will I pinch.

I will never grow a mustache,

Or a fraction of an inch.

'Cause growing up is awfuller

Than all the awful things that ever were.

I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up,

No sir,

Not I,

Not me,

So there!

 

I won't grow up!

I will never even try

I will do what Peter tells me

And I'll never ask him why

 

We won't grow up!

We will never grow a day

And if someone tries to make it

We will simply run away.

 

I won't grow up!

No, I promise that I won't

I will stay a boy forever

And be banished if I don't.

 

And Never Land will always be

The home of beauty and joy

And neverty

I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up

Not me!

Not me!

Not me!

Not me!

No sir!

Not me!

 

"I don't wanna grow up" from Peter Pan

 

Do you remember when you were young, when you couldn't wait to grow up and make your own rules, live your own life?  Do you remember when you willingly ate ramon noodles and drove a junker car just so that you could afford rent and be the king of your own castle?  Do you remember the nervous excitement you felt as you embarked on adulthood - your determination to prove to your parents and the world that your were ready to shoulder the mantle of adult responsibility?  Do you remember when you embraced adulthood?

 

For generations children have aspired, almost from infancy, to achieve the coveted status of adulthood.  From the time they can crawl, they want to walk - when they can walk, they want to run.  An independent and self-reliant spirit seems to be ingrained in their very being.  In past generations, this independence and self-reliance was encouraged from every corner.  Parents required chores at an early age.  Teachers demanded a disciplined demeanor and rigorous academic acumen.  While still children they were being prepared to shoulder the responsibilities of society.  They were being trained to succeed, flourish even, in a future of their own making.  Their daily life prepared them for all that life would require of them.  It prepared them to build, to lead, to govern. 

 

That was then.  Now, in modern day America, we live in Never Land.  Our children don't want to grow up, but even worse, our parent, our teachers and our leaders don't want to grow up.  We want to live in a perpetual state of childhood, where all of our needs are anticipated and met by someone other than ourselves.  We want to be coddled and fed and told what to do.  We want someone else to be responsible for us when we've made bad decisions and we want to be bailed out when we experience the consequences of riotous living.  We don't want to have to suffer or work or struggle.  And when it comes right down to it, we are more than willing to "Do what Peter tells us - and never ask him why" in exchange for never growing up.  America has become a nation of "Lost Boys".

 

Although Disney would have us believe that Peter Pan was a charming, fun-loving, altruistic boy, the truth is that he stole children from their families, used them in his own social experiments and then killed them when their population threatened to overrun his island.  How charming is that? 

 

And that, my friends, is where America is heading - to Never Land.  If we refuse to grow up, refuse to suffer, to work or to struggle, we will forever be living in Never Land. We will be the Lost Boys - never to experience the exhilaration of adulthood, the joy of responsibility or the incalculable power of freedom.

 

America is a country designed for adults.  Are we up to the challenge, or are we Lost Boys living in Never land?

 







A Case for the Ultimate Survival Mom - Part I

Vermeer's Milk Maid

The Wife of Noble Character

 

A wife of noble character who can find?

She is worth far more than rubies.

Her husband has full confidence in her

and lacks nothing of value.

She brings him good, not harm,

all the days of her life.

She selects wool and flax

and works with eager hands.

She is like merchant ships

bringing her food from afar.

She gets up while it is still night;

she provides food for her family

and portions for her female servants.

She considers a field and buys it;

out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

She sets about her work vigorously;

her arms are strong for her tasks.

She sees that her trading is profitable,

and her lamp does not go out at night.

In her hand she holds the distaff

and she grasps the spindle with her fingers.

She opens her arms to the poor

and extends her hands to the needy.

When it snows, she has no fear for her household;

for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

She makes coverings for her bed;

she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

Her husband is respected at the city gate,

where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

She makes linen garments and sells them,

and supplies the merchants with sashes.

She is clothed with strength and dignity;

she can laugh at the days to come.

She speaks with wisdom,

and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household

and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed;

her husband also, and he praises her:

"Many women do noble things,

but you surpass them all."

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;

but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Honor her for all that her hands have done,

and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

 

Every morning, after the men leave for work and before the littles wake, I spend time in my bible.  I read two chapters of wherever I happen to be at the moment and I read whichever Proverbs lines up with the day.  Today, being the 7th of the month, I read Proverbs Chapter 7. 

 

As I was reading Proverbs 31 on the last day of 2014, I was reminded again that it is the Proverbs 31 woman that I endeavor to emulate.  She is the wife, mother and woman that can and will see her family through the darkest of days with grace, humility and complete confidence.  Her faith is securely anchored in God and she lives her life in accordance with His wisdom.  Her way is secure.

 

One of the first things that I notice about the Proverbs 31 woman is that she is rare.  There are a lot of women in this world.  A lot of pretty faces.  But, the woman that embodies these qualities, the woman that you would willingly walk through the end of the world with, is very rare indeed.  In fact, her rarity makes her worth far more than the most precious jewel.  When you consider that, you might also consider the fact that this woman is very hard to find.  Just as rubies require significant effort to unearth, so a noble woman will have to be earnestly sought and won.  Yet she will be worth every effort.  She will be the woman by your side, preparing your house to weather the most ferocious storm.  She will train your arrows to be sure and true.  She will bring every good thing within your grasp and fill your home with joy and mirth.  

 

Men, if you want a woman to walk by your side during TEOTWAWKI, find a Proverbs 31 woman.  Women, become the Proverbs 31 woman.  Seek God.  Build character.  Acquire the skills to run a self-sufficient household.  Prepare for the storm then laugh at the days to come.

 





What Should We Do?

Thank you so much for your wonderful comments!  I have thoroughly enjoyed reading them all, especially from those of you who are disabled and/or have (or had) small children.

As you can imagine, Sir Knight, the children and I were in agreement with the vast majority of you - the woman with the small children should have used the larger stall and the lady in the wheelchair should have graciously waited.  What really surprised us was "Dear Abby's" response.  In her column, she stated that the handicap stall was reserved for handicapped people only and the woman at the end of the line in the wheelchair should have been given preference.

Truthfully, I don't think it really boils down to an issue of mobility but rather is an issue of courtesy.  In my experience, most people do their best to be courteous to one another.  Had I been in that bathroom I would have encouraged the woman behind me with the small children to use the handicap stall, just as I would have given preference to the woman in the wheelchair had she been behind me.  I am relatively certain the handicapped woman referred to in the "Dear Abby" column would have been quickly ushered into the handicap stall had she been gracious rather than rude.  She had an opportunity to encourage charity and understanding, instead she chose the disheartening attitude of selfishness.

The unfortunate truth is that sometimes we can't seem to win regardless of what we do.  If we allow the person behind us to "cut in line", the person at the end of the line gets irritated.  If we open the door for someone, they very well may hurl the insult of "I can do that myself!".  Even offering a seat to an older person can be offensive - "I'm not old" they often quip.  In our self-centered society even the most courteous of actions can be misconstrued as blatantly offensive.  What are we to do?

The answer is simple, really.  We do the right thing.  We are kind, we are courteous and we are gracious.  No. Matter. What.  It doesn't matter how someone else responds, we are responsible for our own actions - every time.  We do not have the ability to control how others respond.  We can't make them behave correctly.  We can't force them to react the way we think they should.  The only person we have control of is ourselves.  And therein lies the rub.  It is our responsibility to control ourselves. Every time!  We need to control our tongues, our tempers and even our thoughts.  Our person is under our authority!  We are our own responsibility.  No. Matter. What.

I'm pretty sure the answer to "What should we do?" is "The right thing".  If we held ourselves and our children accountable to that simple precept our country would look a whole lot different.

What would you do?

Hi everyone - please forgive me for the inexcusably long absence.  I have been wrapping up 2014 and ushering in 2015 and became more than little sidetracked!  I'll be bringing you up-to-date in the coming month.

I have a question for you.  Recently I read a "Dear Abby" column and disagreed with her answer completely.  Over tea, I posed the question to Sir Knight - his answer mirrored mine.  After dinner, before we abandoned the table, we posed the same question to each of our three older children, they too, answered as Sir Knight and I had.  Funny thing, that!

And so, I ask you - what do you think?  Here is the scenario:

You are in a public ladies bathroom (you gents will have to use a little imagination here).  There are three regular stalls and one larger handicapped stall (equipped with a baby changing station).  When you enter the bathroom, all of the stalls are occupied.  A line quickly forms behind you.  Directly after you is a frazzled looking young woman with a loudly fussing infant in her arms and a cranky toddler attached to her skirt.  The first bathroom stall to become available is the handicap stall  with the baby changing station.  Being the kind and generous person that you are, you usher the young mother into the stall and continue to wait for another stall to become available.  Almost instantly an angry voice cuts through the room - a lady in a wheelchair (at the back of a very long line) voiced her adamant opinion that the woman with the babies should have waited for a "normal" stall and she should have immediately been ushered into the handicapped stall.  

What do you think?  Should the mother and children have taken the handicap stall or should it have been reserved solely for the use of the handicapped patron?

You can probably imagine our response, but tomorrow I will tell you what our family thought and what "Dear Abby" answered.  I can't wait to here what you say!

Life in "Little Shouse on the Prairie"

I'm sorry I've been so silent - we have been nothing if not busy!  (As I'm sure all of you have been too!).  Hopefully, a picture is worth a thousand words, because that is all I'm able to get up today.  Here is a peek into our life as of late....

Master Hand Grenade became acquainted with winter driving (black ice) and learned the pitfalls of only carrying liability insurance!

And, the next day, his initiation as a butcher occurred.....

Making lotion bars...

Weighing the beeswax

Melting the ingredients

Cooling in the molds

The finished bars

Packaged and ready to go

And making cranberry wine....

Master Calvin scrubbing the barrel, with a Zebra lamp on his head
 (so he could be sure to get all of the nooks and crannies)

30 pounds of coarsely chopped cranberries

Into the "fermentation" vessel (also known as a 55 gallon barrel)

Raisins added (15 pounds)

Stirring the "must" with a pizza paddle!

Cranberry Wine

30 pounds chopped cranberries (fresh or frozen)
15 pounds raisins
45 pounds granulated sugar
4 1/2 tsp. pectic enzyme
1 1/4 C lemon juice
Wine yeast
15 gallons boiled/cooled water

Wash and roughly chop cranberries to allow juices to leave the fruit.  Transfer crushed/chopped cranberries to a clean winemaking fermentation container and add all of the other ingredients except for the wine yeast.

After allowing the cranberry mixture to stand for around 12 hours, add the activated wine yeast.  Stir each morning and evening for 5 days.  Strain and squeeze the solids, transferring the cranberry wine mixture into a demijohn, complete with airlock.

Rack after a month.  Rack once more after 3 months, and then two more times until the wine is clear and approximately 12 months old.  Bottle the wine and leave to stand for over 12 months.

_______________________________________

So, there you go - a brief synopsis of life in "Little Shouse on the Prairie".

Prayer of Thanksgiving

From time to time I take my robust good health for granted.  This morning I was visiting with my mother (over the phone) while she was busy with last minute Thanksgiving preparations.  She was telling me about her upcoming travels and the many things that needed to be done in the next few weeks.  One of the items on her "to-do" list was making dinner for a local family.  This family is gracefully walking through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  Dad is a pastor, mom is a homemaker and schools her 6 children at home.  They live a quiet, simple and wholesome life.  And mom has inoperable cancer.  The oldest child has accepted the mantle of womanhood and is schooling and caring for her younger siblings, while she cooks, cleans and runs the home.  Two nights a week, in an effort to ease this young lady's burden, my parent's church provides a meal for the family.  It is a small gift, but a gift born of love.

As we prepare for Thanksgiving this year, we will be giving thanks for the bountiful health we enjoy.  But as we give thanks, we will also remember those that are walking a very different path.  We will thank God that He is caring not only for the healthy but especially for the sick, the tired and the weak.  He truly is The Great Physician.

I Needed the Quiet

 

I needed the quiet so He drew me aside

Into the shadows were we could confide

Away from the bustle where all day long

I hurried and worried when active and strong.

 

I needed the quiet, tho at first I rebelled

But gently, so gently, my cross he upheld

And whispered so sweetly of spiritual things

Tho weakened in body, my spirit took wings

To heights never dreamed of when active and gay

He loved me so greatly he drew me away.

 

I needed the quiet.  No prison my bed,

But a beautiful valley of blessings instead

A place to grow richer, in Jesus to hide.

I needed the quiet, so he drew me aside.

 

Alice Hansche Mortenson

1944

A beautiful Thanksgiving to you all.

Boasting Rights

Once again Miss Serenity has hunting boasting rights.  She is our most faithful hunter (she LOVES it) and has been rewarded with a buck that is even bigger than last years catch. 

This year Serenity hunted in an open field with no discernable cover.  In order to get into the field before the deer came up the draw, Serenity borrowed Sir Knight's ghillie suit and SSG and staked out her little plot of land just before evening overtook the daylight. 

First, the doe's ventured into the field, grazing while their ears twitched, alert for possible danger.  Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, a buck gracefully trotted to join his harem.  Two hundred yards away, Miss Serenity followed the buck in her site.  Adjusting the windage, she slowed her breathing, set the first trigger and then gently squeezed the second trigger.  Two ragged steps and a somersault later her trophy lay on the ground. 

Within minutes, Serenity had called home and Sir Knight, Master Hand Grenade and the two little children were by her side, preparing to gut her kill and haul him home (she shot him just across the road from the shouse).  An hour later, he had been gutted, skinned and hung in our shed.

As evening fell on Little Shouse on the Prairie, Miss Serenity regaled us with her newly minted hunting stories and we thanked God for His wonderful bounty.

Rubber Cake - The Quintessential Survival Cake

During my childhood in the hinterboonies of the American Redoubt, when our family wanted a quick chocolate fix but we had nothing in the pantry, my mother would throw together one of our favorite cakes - Rubber Cake.  I'm not entirely certain why it is called Rubber cake, since it doesn't have the consistency of rubber, but it is one of the most interesting cakes in my recipe box.  My understanding is that it was developed by an ingenious housewife during the depths of the depression when resources were scarce.   Necessity is the mother of invention! 

This cake requires no dairy - butter or milk - and is leavened not by eggs but by vinegar and baking soda (I know - vinegar in a cake!).  The result is a moist cake that is perfect alone, sprinkled with powdered sugar or frosted.  Our favorite way to serve this cake is warm from the oven with a scoop of vanilla ice cream!!

Rubber cake is not the least bit crumbly so it is perfect for the lunchbox as well as afternoon tea.  Another benefit?  It is mixed and baked in the same pan - no other bowls to get dirty!  Because it requires no fresh ingredients, Rubber cake is the Quintessential Survival Cake.

Rubber Cake

1 1/2 C flour
1 C sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
3 T cocoa powder
1 tsp. baking soda

Sift together above ingredients into a 9" cake pan (or double the recipe and use a 9"x13" cake pan).  The pan does not have to be greased or floured.

Make 3 wells in the mixture.

Put the following in the separate wells;

6 T vegetable oil in one well
1 T vinegar in one well (I use white vinegar)
1 tsp. vanilla in one well

Pour 1 C of water over the top and mix well.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream.

Serve cold with white, caramel or chocolate frosting.

Three indentations

Filling the wells

One overflowed a bit!

All mixed together

Just out of the oven

A lovely way to end the day!

Fantastic (Oven) Fried Chicken

Recently Maid Elizabeth came across a recipe for oven-fried chicken, thought it looked fabulous and asked me to work it into our dinner menu rotation.  She, along with Master Hand Grenade, had been craving fried chicken for awhile but knew that it was like pulling teeth to get me to make it for dinner.  Although I like fried chicken (minus the grease) I don't like making it - so fried chicken is a once a year (at the most) rarity at our house.  Elizabeth's oven-fried recipe looked remarkably good, and easy, so I put it on the menu and eagerly anticipated giving it a try.

Since our first oven-fried chicken experiment, we have had it every other week - without fail!  It is that good!  We love it piping hot, fresh out of the oven, and we love it cold the next day (or later, after dinner has been digested) for lunch.  It is crunchy and tasty and not the least bit greasy (which I really like).  Best of all?  It's relatively quick and very easy.

Generally I just cut up chicken breast to make this dish, however that is pretty decadent.  I think that a cut-up fryer would work equally well - I would just bake it a bit longer.

We love this chicken with mounds of fluffy mashed potatoes and chicken gravy, but it would be just as wonderful with potato salad or whatever suits your fancy.

Fantastic Oven-Fried Chicken

4 or 5 Chicken breasts (I cut each breast into about 3 pieces)
10 T butter

Breading mixture
2 C flour
1 tsp. salt
2 T seasoning salt
1 tsp. pepper
1 T + 1 tsp. paprika 

3 eggs + a splash of milk

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Place the butter (cut into chunks) on two large baking sheets and put into the oven to melt.

In a bowl combine the flour, salt, seasoning salt, pepper and paprika.  Mix well.  Measure 1/2 of the mixture into a plastic bag, leaving the other 1/2 in the bowl.  (You can forgo the plain salt if desired).

In a separate bowl whisk eggs and milk.

Put the strips of chicken into the plastic bag with the flour mixture and shake until well coated. 

One at a time, roll a coated piece of chicken in the egg mixture, roll in the flour mixture in the bowl (this will coat the chicken twice) and place on a cookie sheet.  Continue with all of the chicken pieces.

Take your baking sheets out of the oven once the butter has melted and transfer the coated chicken to the baking sheets, leaving space between each piece.  Bake 10 to 12 minutes.  Gently flip each piece and bake for another 10 to 12 minutes. 

Check to make sure the chicken is cooked through (this can vary depending on the thickness of the chicken pieces) and bake another 5 to 10 minutes, if needed (don't over bake - the chicken will dry out). 

Removed to a plate lined with newspaper or a paper towel to soak up any excess grease.  Serve immediately.

Butter on the baking sheet

Chicken cut into large chunks

Two bowls, one with egg and the other with breading

A bag of breading to coat chicken the first time

Place coated chicken on hot baking sheet with melted butter

Turn chicken

(oven) Fried chicken! 

The Benefits of Islam

This morning I read a news article about a Marine father that had been banned from his daughter's school because of a ruckus he'd caused about a school assignment.  Apparently, a history assignment was given requiring the students to list the benefits of Islam.  The father had a visceral reaction to this particular assignment and strongly stated his case with school officials.  The result was the fathers banishment from the school grounds.

My first reaction was disgust but then, I started thinking about it.  Within minutes, I was doing the assignment in my head.  The more I thought, the more benefits I came up with.  Here are a few....

The Benefits of Islam

1. Economic.  Islam benefits the economic structure in so many ways.  When a terrorist bomb explodes, hundreds of economic entities go work.  Police and Rapid Response Teams flood the area.  Paramedics and EMT's respond.  ER rooms go into overdrive and funeral homes experience a boom in business.  Once the dust has settled, municipalities, insurance companies and contractors go to work.  The economic impact in the area can go on for months.  Reconstruction, heightened security and PSTD treatment can last for years - adding even more of a financial windfall.
2. Education.  If you want smaller class sizes and streamlined education - Islam is your religion.  When you educate boys only, effectively eliminating roughly 1/2 of your student burden, you have the ability to work closely with each individual student.  Because you only teach a few core subjects - the Koran, Jihad and a few other choice electives, you have the ability to study your subject matter in depth, producing exceptionally dedicated, knowledgeable scholars.
3. Political.  The benefits of Islam in the political arena are myriad.  By doing away with pesky freedoms, both of speech and action, you simplify the political process significantly.  Swift elimination of political opponents, specifically by beheading, streamlines the political process and most often brings about a calming sense of continuity to the voting public.
4. Military/Defense.  This is one area where Islamic nations really shine.  Their countries benefit immensely from the non-structured yet mandatory implementation of aggressive para-military organizations.  Not only do they recruit from within the borders of their own countries, they effectively recruit members from all over the globe.  With the promise of eternal glory, their fighters are arguably the most dedicated in the world.
5. Environmental.  Islam is very environmentally conscious.  Rather than developing carbon fuel based guidance and delivery systems for their rockets and bombs, they use the much more environmentally friendly camel and donkey delivery systems.  In some cases, they use simple rocks (completely biodegradable) instead of manufactured munitions in their bid to protect mother nature.  And when using a more sophisticated delivery system (usually in the form of a Toyota pickup or Landcruiser), they make sure to use the most fuel efficient model.  Another aspect of environmentalism that is unique to Islamic nations is their fervent adherence to population control.   In an effort to keep their numbers down, their women are stoned at the first hint of an indiscretion and their children are regularly sacrificed to their cause.  Such a dedicated approach to saving the earth is rarely seen in the modern world. 
6. Social.  The social benefits of Islam are too numerous to mention.  In their quest to reduce envy, covetousness and lust, they have established a proven system of dress and manner that greatly benefits society at large.  Covering their women from head to toe and not allowing them to speak in public has produced a contented, joyful female population.  The men are equally happy, as evidenced by their quiet lives and tender reverence for their families.  All is well in the Islamic world.

This list could go on an on.  How clever of our schools to assign such thought provoking assignments!  Without effective dialog, how will we ever come to understand other cultures?  Score one for a good, ol' fashioned American education! 

Would I get a good grade on my paper?

Reality Blogging

Human nature is a funny thing.  We seem to live in a constant state of comparison.  We compare every aspect of our lives with others, either feeling superior or inferior, depending the circumstances.  We compare our spouses, our children and ourselves.  We compare our clothes, our cars and our fences.  We compare ourselves with our friends, with people on television, in magazines and we even compare ourselves with fictional characters.  And more often than not, we don't measure up.

I'm sure that people have measured their lives by the perceived successes and failures of their neighbors since mankind populated the earth - but our modern technological age has created a plague of discontent that is eroding the soul of our nation.

I have never indulged in social media.  I don't have a Facebook account or Twitter (I'm still not sure what that is) or Instagram or any other social interactive site, and I haven't missed them at all.  Over the years I have had friends tell me that I just had to sign up, however, I have a couple of serious problems with our social media culture.  The first issue I have is that you can be anybody you want to be on the internet!  There is no accountability, no truth.  People only post what they want you to see.  You see the successes only - rarely the failures.  You see those few shining moments when a persons life measures up to their own standards of success.  You are inundated with EVERYONE's success and pretty soon you can see nothing but your own failures. 

And we wonder why we are nation depressed!

When I blog, I share snippets out of our lives.  You get to hear about Master Hand Grenade getting his first job and Miss Serenity dropping a buck with 1 shot.  You hear about Maid Elizabeth delivering babies and Princess Dragon Snack riding her first motorcycle.  You see pictures of Master Calvin decked out in his "Gentleman Adventurer" gear and Sir Knight testing tactical equipment.  You read accounts of lessons learned and prayers answered.  But there is so much I don't write.  I don't write about children with bad attitudes or baking projects that end up feeding the dogs.  You don't read about marital difficulties between Sir Knight and I or the bitter disappointments that seem to visit our home with reliable frequency.  You don't see the mess or the failures or the really rotten parts of life that I would be loathe to share.  You don't see the messy stuff. 

I only show you what I want you to know.

But there is another reason I'm not a part of the social media frenzy.  Quite frankly, I don't want to be a busybody.  For a while I "spied" on people via Maid Elizabeth's Facebook account.  I would check on them every week or so, just to see what they were up to.  Maid Elizabeth didn't have many "friends", but I found that often they would post things on their account that I would not have known any other way.  But then, as I was wandering through Elizabeth's "news feed" one day, I suddenly realized that I was like the "busybody" that the Bible talks about!  I was checking in on other people's lives, reading all of their gossip, when I would be much better served by taking care of my own life!

I think blogs, Pinterest and a whole lot of other sites on the world wide web can be wonderful - if they are used with discretion.  There are so many things to learn and so much encouragement waiting for us online, but we have to be discerning.  Remember, behind every website is a real, live, human being that isn't perfect.  Their spouse isn't perfect, their kids aren't perfect and their house isn't perfect.  They don't have the "perfect" survival location, the "perfect" survival plan or the "perfect" survival skills.  They have good days and they have bad days.  Whatever you do, don't look at the lives people present online and assume that your life is in the toilet!  We are all in this boat together - success, failure and everything in between.

Believe it or not, the world is not populated by people that have a perfectly decorated, spotlessly clean home, as they cook organic, homemade meals, while raising 8 impossibly polite children and being the quintessential Proverbs 31 woman (oh, and the perfect wife, of course!).  It is filled with people just. like. you.

Welcome to my reality.  Imperfect. Messy.  Just right!

About the photo --  A snapshot of our imperfect life.  The window is broken (an accident two years ago).  There are little buggy's, dead, between the two panes.  The window can't be cleaned (the dirt is between the two panes) and we can barely see through it.  Such is life!  Someday....