It's Beginning To Sound A Lot Like Christmas

Since I try hard to keep up a thin veneer of adulthood and maturity, I am a bit ashamed to admit publicly how much I really enjoy Christmas and the whole Christmas season. For all of the simple, childish reasons, and the conventional ones, too. And a HUGE part of that is Christmas music. I could listen to it all year long. I am related by blood to more than one person who flat refuses to listen to anything Yuletidish until December 1st. And my dearly beloved honey thinks the whole radio-station-dedicated-to-all-Christmas-music-all-the-time thing is kitchy and cringe-worthy. Not this lady! Bring it on! I need more! I LOVE how I feel when I am listening to Christmas music. And Saturday, we were at a restaurant with family. Of course, I had to spend a few minutes in the Ladies' Room giving The Veeves a hind-end alignment. Of course, there were Christmas songs being piped over the intercom. I sang along softly to my baby as we took care of "our business". Now, I'm a bit self conscious about my singing capacity. I can sing OK, but I can't read music, and I'm an alto who only knows the melody. So I'm a tad shy about singing. I like to sing in a big group, so no one can clearly hear my voice. So imagine how I felt when another lady came out of her stall, walked up to the baby-changing station, and said, "you have the voice of an angel!" Awwwwe! I can't describe how I felt. It made my whole day. That's pretty much all I need to for Christmas. That whole Five Love Languages thing? I'm totally a Words of Affirmation girl. Bring on the {sincere, well-timed, applicable to something that I already feel insecure about or have put a lot of effort into} compliments! So, next time you're around complete strangers and find yourself thinking something nice, speak up! They may be someone like me.

But that's not what this post is supposed to be about. What I want from you is recommendations for Christmas Music albums. I wanted to listen to some while I was packing to leave for Wisconsin, but all I have is The Mo-Tab Choir's "Messiah". Not to knock it at all, but it's just...not enough. I actually was going to buy a whole bunch of Christmas music and stick in in my stocking but 1) I do NOT buy my own Christmas presents (Mark and I have worked this out) and 2) I do NOT want to spend my mad $$$ on something that's, uhm, inferior. So, I know you all have Christmas Music preferences, because I've been reading you blogs. Please, please sound off here and give my your favorite two or three. Because I NEED a little Christmas!

Going North for the Holidays

Here I am, blogging from Wisconsin! Mark and I left the 'Ville early Friday, drove to pick up Shiloh from my mom's, and headed north. It is supposed to be a beautiful drive, but we wouldn't know anything about it, because it was fog for 500 miles. Sometimes it would thin a bit, but mostly it was nail-bitingly thick. Anyway, we made good time, and arrived sane and safe here in the outer reaches of Madison.

Shiloh sharing her iPod with Eliza, and Yvy grinning like the Cheshire Cat because she thinks the camera is pointed at her

Shiloh was a great sport. How many single adults can still be sweet and kind after seven hours in a van with five kids? She can! What a girl. She even used her own pocket money to buy a flashing, spinning thing for The Veeves, to keep her distracted from the fact that she had been strapped down for the last four hours, with three hours to go. And it worked!

Not a creature was stirring...

Gingerbread Architects

Every year, on the first Saturday in December, Grandma has a Gingerbread Party. The kids look forward to it for WEEKS. Tragical, things didn't work out for us to be a part of it this year (weather, illnesses, timing...blah, blah, blah). But our Grandma is tenacious and undaunted. She brought the candy and goodies to our house the next Monday, and we did it for Family Home Evening.


Jose and Hyrum and their gingerbread bungalow

I spent all day making houses (and now I understand why Grandma said she wasn't making gingerbread for everyone anymore a few years back!). Hyrum invited his neighbor friend, Josie, and they worked on a house together. When they were done, it had a Dish Network satellite, a wood pile, a beehive, and more!


George & Faith and their candy shack

I invited the kids from the Academy that are in my Seminary class, since they don't get to have FHE. It was a lot of fun to have them come. I don't know why we didn't think of it sooner!

Me, Sarah, and Eliza

Sarah's house turned out the best, and she was done first. She said she had never done anything like this before. I think she has an untapped talent for gingerbread construction!

Lucy and her place

Mark helped the kids, played with Yvy so I could work on my house, and ate most of the Rollos.

Mark and Yvy enjoying the goodies

We had the Elders there, too, and they made a hut with a lot of pretzel sticks...it kinda looked like a Kwanzaa hut when they were done. It was awesome. We had a great time, and I even got the Academy kids back to their dorms before the ice storm got bad. But that's a whole new post...

Let's Hear It For The Sisters!

Gabba and Yvy

I'm such a lucky me! I have six sisters by birth, eight by marriage, dozens and dozens by pure serendipity, and a few million world-wide in the Relief Society. I can't even begin to count all the wonderful parts of my life that would be missing or different if it weren't for my sisters. I am a better wife, a better daughter, a better mother because of the support and examples of my sisters.

Yvy and Lucy

I am so glad that my own daughters have sisters. Don't get me wrong, sometimes they fight like vindictive little cats. But other times, they are so sweet and caring towards each other.

Eliza, Gabba and Lucy

Lately, Yvette has shown a great affection for Lucy (which shocks me, since Lucy has spent the last year and a half of Yvy's life tormenting her with love and affection that only a [s]mother could give) and Gabba. This is very sweet to me, since Yvy is a bit of a hateful little imp. To see her branch out to other people - besides myself - for friendship and companionship is wonderful.

Lucy and Eliza

So here is a shout out to all my sisters. Thank you for who you are and what you do to make this world sweeter.

(back) Me, Chelsea, Georgie
(front) Shiloh, Liz, McKay [sorry, V, I don't know where you were when this picture was taken]

It's probably not normal, but we talk about genes and DNA and genetics all the time at our house. It is not an uncommon topic at the dinner table: (Eliza) "I have brown eyes, just like my Dad." (Gabba) "Mine were blue when I was little, but now they're green, like Aunt McKay." (Me) "That's just like me." And then we go into the discussion...how they got the eye-color they have, which of their aunts and uncles match them [after all, our kids have 30 aunts and uncles], and which of their grandparents and great-grandparents contributed what to the Genetic Grab Bag.

Of course, explaining DNA to a three-year-old and a five-year-old is tricky. Here's how I explained it to my wee folk: it's like a recipe for your body. Daddy and I both have a recipe, which we got from our parents. And Heavenly Father takes both Daddy's and my recipe, mixes it together, and that ends up being you! You have Daddy's eye color, but my eyebrows. You have a Pipkin head, but a Mason nose and Galbraith ears. I have crooked pinkies, that I got from my mother, but yours are straight, like your Dad's. This recipe that is yours is called your DNA, or your genes.

[yeah, and it's an easy guess where they get their flair for the flamboyant!]

Well, I thought I was pretty clever, coming up with that. It included all the relevant points, without going into anything...awkward. All the children seemed to get it. They've all helped me cook, so they could see how different ingredients help make the cake, right?

So, here's where it backfired: Yesterday, we were making lunch in the kitchen. Out of nowhere, Lucy pipes up and says, "Mommy, you need to kiss Daddy and get some DNA and make another baby."

!!?!!?!!?!!?!!

That sounds just a little TOO accurate. And now I'm left to wonder: Just exactly how much does she know?

World Class Entertainment Comes To The 'Ville

Last night, Mark and I took Gabba out for her Mommy-Daddy-Daughter date. It's a choice we give each child for their birthday: a party with their friends, doing something nifty as a family, or a Mommy-Daddy date of their choosing. Gabba REALLY likes the date thing. It's what she picked last year, too.

We went to the A&G for dinner (voted best restaurant in the county!) and then we went to the concert. I was very impressed that the University had this particular act coming to their venue. I suppose I consider The 'Ville to be a little bit po-dunk. I don't think I'm alone in that. We had front row tickets to see The 5 Browns. It was great! They really are as dynamic in person as all of the PR says they are. It was a wonderfully enjoyable performance. And, of course, I was thrilled to see that the three sisters were fashionably modest, seeing as how I had my impressionable daughter with me. I'm not going to lie: I'm not much of a concert person. It takes a lot for me to me feel like I've gotten my money's worth. But this was a great evening. They did several pieces that I recognized, and they stopped before each piece and told a little story about the piece and what was cool about it to them or what it made them think about. That was a nice addition. One piece was called Fantasia on 'Dives and Lazarus' ...they started it by explaining that it's a very old tune, and has been redone many times. They have a person who writes arrangement for them - seeing as how there's not a lot of music written for five pianos - who did this one. As they started to play, I immediately recognized it as the tune I know as "If You Could Hie To Kolob"...very cool! That piece is on their newest album, "Browns in Blue". Mark was so funny. He was completely into the whole performance. I know he wishes he could play the piano better. He's telling me all the time he wants to go back and re-learn, and maybe someday play the organ, too. Our good friends, Jesse and Rebecca brought their kids up, and joined us - which was a major plus for the Gabs, because she adores their daughters. (We combined our too-young or not-your-turn kids for babysitting at our house.) Rebecca was willing to stand in line with the girls at the end of the concert so that they could get their programs signed. Gabba was so thrilled. She and her friends were at the front of the line (I think they snuck out during the last piece for that privilege...) Gabba said she even got to chat with them, and that Melody asked her a couple of questions about playing the piano. Who knows? Maybe now she'll be inspired to practice piano without whining and being rotten. Ha!

The Perfect Dress
(photos by Auntie Sarah Sue)
Saturday was Gabriella's 8th birthday, and her baptism. We had loads of family come up to the 'Ville to be there for her, and then food and fun and visiting at our house afterwards.

For weeks, I was trying to find the prefect dress for her, both as a birthday gift and as a part of her baptism. Of course, I'm a purist. A dress to be worn after a baptism should be white. But finding a white dress for an eight-year-old girl that is 1) modest 2) not dripping in lace and bows and embroidery 3) not a mini-bridezilla and 4) less than $200...well, that proved to be not possible. I suppose I could have made it, but with Halloween costumes still fresh in my memory, I was not delusional. Besides, I could not find a pattern that Gabba and I liked, that was fitting for the occasion.

Enter the incomparable Hillary, my sister-in-law-in-law in Texas. This lady is simply amazing. I sent her an e-mail, describing what we were looking for. We chatted back and forth about the particulars and the details - pointed waist instead of straight, princess seams, super-twirly, long sleeves with something fluttery at the end, etc. She sent me a sketch. Gabba colored it in with her colors of choice (soft grey - even though it looks blue - with green trim....she's been watching the Barbie 12 Dancing Princesses movie...watch it and you'll understand). Hillary called back and talked me through all the measurements she needed. Then she .... just ... made it. And boxed it up and mailed it to us.

Gabriella felt like a true princess all day. She was so happy. Not to imply that her day was all about the dress, because it wasn't. But it certainly added to it.

How many little girls get to be baptized on their birthday, surrounded by dozens of family and friends, and then feel (and look!) like a princess for the rest of the day? Isn't she beautiful?

Hillary, you're amazing. Thank you.

A New Word!

Here is a little nugget of joy for me: I have a new word for my Vocabulary List: Hobson's choice. (OK, full disclosure: I use my Vocab List for phrases, too....) Have you ever heard that one before? Me neither. I love finding a new specimen for my collection! (yeah, go ahead and laugh - or yawn) I stumbled across it in an article on legislation for pharmacies. Go figure. Anyway, it means "an apparently free choice which is really no choice at all; a free choice in which only one option is offered. The choice is therefore between taking the option or not taking it."

Hobson's choice is different from a true choice between two (or more) equally disagreeable or agreeable options; blackmail (do something, or have some unpleasant fact about your past revealed); extortion (do something or suffer unpleasant consequences of some other sort) a Catch-22 situation, where both (or all) choices available actually cancel each other out.

Hobson's choice originated from Thomas Hobson (1545-1631), a livery stable owner who rented horses in Cambridge, England, mainly to the university students there. In order to rotate the use of his horses, he offered customers the choice of either taking the horse in the stall nearest the door—or taking none at all.

The first known written usage of this phrase is in 1712, though it also appears in Thomas Ward's 1688 poem "England's Reformation", not published until after Ward's death. Ward wrote, "Where to elect there is but one, / 'Tis Hobson's choice—take that, or none."

Oh, the glee of finding some new linguistic gem! It's safely tucked away, waiting for me to find a time and place to try it out. You have been warned. *grins*

Carving Out Traditions

Mark, Lucy & Gabba hard at work on their pumpkins

Mark and I had a fantastic opportunity to attend a Parenting "fireside" with Richard and Linda Eyre. It was great to be able to go together, and to later talk about the ideas we had and what we thought would work for us and help our little brood.

Hyrum gets into the details

One of the things the Eyres discussed was the power of family traditions. Traditions are the glue that hold us together through good time and bad, and those bonds only get stronger as the years go by.

Lucy looks on while Gabba inspects my efforts (I never did get it done!)

I've thought about it in the past, and I seriously didn't think we had any family traditions. I mean, pretty much everything we do with any regularity involves our plentiful extended family. It didn't seem like we had any traditions that just involved our little bunch.

Yvette just raided the school table during the "gutting of the gourds"

But as Mark and I talked about it, we realized that we do. We have some really good ones, in fact. We always read books in the van whenever we go anywhere as a family. Mark and the kids roughhouse and pillow-fight all the time. We have the built-in traditions of going to Church as a family. We have family prayer every night, with Mark, the kids and I taking turns who says it. We have a tradition of serving those around us. We tuck the kids in each night (even Hyrum! and they won't let us forget it, either.) We actually have a lot of traditions.

Gabriella decided to carve a family of "Pwoosie Wah-wahs" on hers...whatever those are

Right now, we're working on being more consistent in the tradition of Family Home Evening. We've been hit-an-miss in the past, but I'm staring down the barrel of raising teenagers here in the next couple of years, and we need all the solidifying, unifying family glue we can get.

Yvette watches as Hyrum works on the gourd he named Scarface

One of the things that the Eyers said about traditions is that you can never have too many, and you should "formalize" them by writing them down in a book. You can have daily traditions, weekly traditions, monthly ones, seasonal ones, birthday ones, annual ones...whatever. So, I'm thinking I should be looking for more reasons to start a traditions.

Lucy did her pumpkin all on her own, without any help. We were really impressed with her perseverance.

Of course, there are the ones that everyone does (or the ones that everyone thinks that every one else is doing, but that we're all too busy to get to, even though we want to, and we have fond memories of doing them when we were young....) The truth is, we've only carved pumpkins as a family a couple of times. I have a strong anti-mainstream streak in me, and pumpkin-carving seemed so...trite. Besides, it seemed a bit much to plunk down the cash for big, cool pumpkins, only to hack them out, light them up, and toss them on the compost pile a couple of days later.

Mark's Cyclops pumpkin

But, I have five children, and they should not have to suffer from my laziness or my cynicism or my tightwad-ity. So, this year, we spent the Monday afternoon before Halloween at the pumpkin farm, picking out our carving victims. Yes, Wal-Mart is cheaper, but the good ones were all gone by then; besides, if you're going for tradition, local pumpkin farms have a lot more ambiance than Wal-Mart or Food-4-Less, right?

Mark and Eliza pose for the shameless photo op

So, I am now a woman with a mission: we are going to carve out fun and joy and time for our family. We are going to start (and maintain!) new traditions, both goofy and meaningful. We are going to be strong and unified. We will do the little ones and the big ones.

The Pumpkin Group: (l-r) Mark's Cyclops, Lucy's 4-eyed monster, Yvy's (carved by mommy) on top, Hyrum's "Calvin & Hobbes"-esque carving, Eliza's (carved by mommy) on top, Amber's "Cinderella Coach", two uncarved pumpkins - we had more pumpkins than people - Hyrum's "Scarface", Gabriella's Pwoosie Wah-wah pumpkin

Is This Safe?

You know, you try and you try. But sometimes, the kids will outsmart you. Read the directions, double-check it again, and then pull out of the drive way. Then you look back and see this:

So, tell me: is this safe?

Halloween

Hyrum was a shape shifter (whatever that is). The fabric for his cape was gold lamme (how do you spell that?) - and it was possessed. Gabriella was a pumpkin, an idea of her own imagining. Lucy started out as a winter fairy, but ended up as a fluffy princess...and that's OK. Eliza was a "unisus"; just ask her: not a pegicorn, a "sparkley, rainbowy unisus". Yvy went first as a bunny (as seen in the picture) and then as a giraffe. There are more stories behind this, but I'm posting here while I'm thinking about it, and then I 'll add detail later.

Sometimes, Hyrum or Gabba or Lucy will ask for permission to take pictures with the camera. So, I let them. Apparently, Yvette was a great photo op, because there were dozens of shots of her when I got the camera back. I am still learning all of the ins and outs of "Picasa", the photo-editing shareware put out by google.

Here is one of the fun things you can do: collages! So, this collage is a tribute to the cuteness of The Veeves, and to the inherited shutterbug-ness of my kids.

TAG!
...you're it, now...

Here's what you have to do. Find your senior high school picture (or a picture taken of you while you were a senior in high school, or about that age, or whatever) and post it on your blog. Do it! Do it! Here's mine. :)

(I didn't actually have a Senior picture, long story, but here's a decent shot of me from that year, showing off my attitude nicely.)

Nature is lovely, as long as it's on my terms. Sometimes, it crosses the line, though. My mom always had a rule: no spiders allowed in the house. They were perfectly welcome to spin and thrive anywhere but inside. If they broke the rule, they had to die. I feel much the same.

Tonight, after Seminary, as we were leaving the Church, one of my students yelled, "skunk!" My first thought was, that's a little juvenile to tease people like that. Then I saw the skunk run past him and hide under my van. Luckily for all of us, the skunk only stayed there for a moment, and then continued on across the parking lot into the grass. Of course, when I went to pick my girls up from their Seminary babysitter, we had to tell the story, which prompted everyone else to tell a skunk story (everyone either has one of their own, or knows/is related to someone who does..try it, you'll see). My girls got a kick out of it. Later this evening, at bedtime, we were reading in Alma Ch. 45. I stopped to ask my girls if they knew what extinct meant (Alma uses it several times in the chapter, so I wanted to be sure they knew what was going on).
Gabba volunteered: "it means all dead, like the dinosaurs are extinct."
"That's right," I said.
"Yeah," Eliza piped up, "and skunks are really, really, really stinky."

Kids. Gotta love 'em!

I got "tagged" for this one by Tiburon (I think that's how she spells it), a blogging friend of a blogging friend.

About My Husband

What is his name? Mark
How long have you been married? 11 years, 2 months
How long did you date? Well, we "hung out" for four months before we got engaged...does that count?
How old is he? 33
Who eats more? Uhm, he eats bigger helpings, I eat more often
Who said I love you first? He did
Who is taller? He is.
Who sings better? He does, but he's nice about it.
Who is smarter? Depends. On most things, he's the brains, but occasionally I suprise us both.
Whose temper is worse? His, but he forgives and moves on faster.
Who does the laundry? We both do. I try to stay ahead of it, but he always helps when I need it.
Who does the dishes? Mostly him.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? him. And if we ever switch, he can't sleep...go figure
Who pays the bills? Me, usually, but we talk about it together
Who mows the lawn? He does, but now he is training our son in the art of yard care
Who cooks dinner? half and half...he's a better cook than I am, too.
Who drives when you are together? He does, unless I'm picking him up or dropping him off.
Who is more stubborn? Both of us. I'm just passive-aggressive about it.
Who is the first to admit when they are wrong? Hard to say. I think we usually get there at about the same time.
Whose parents do you see the most? It used to be his, but now we see the same of both.
Who proposed? He did
Who is more sensitive? I am, usually, but he's the one who cries in the movies
Who has more friends? Me
Who has more siblings? Him, he has 10, I have 9
Who wears the pants in the family? both of us, we're pretty united.

Now you are all tagged.

It's over and done, and it went MUCH better than I could have hoped for! I'm speaking, of course, of the Primary Sacrament Program, the one which I had the privilege of writing, getting approved, assigning out, practicing, etc. *huge sigh of relief* It went really well. At the very end, right before the closing prayer, the Ward Chorister came up, led the Primary children in singing the first verse of "I Know That My Redeemer Lives", and then turned and lead the congregation on the rest of the hymn. It was awesome. The pianist and the organist were playing a duet, the Primary was singing from the choir seats and the congregation was singing back....it was so powerful. Everyone felt the Spirit. Best part? We had several investigators there to feel the amazing power of these children. So cool. ... But, yeah, I'm really glad it's over.

Eliza Funny for the day: while we were getting ready for bed, she was singing, "Yankle Doodie went to town, riding on his pony; stuck a feather in his head and called it wackaroni!" hee hee hee!

one of those "awwwe!" moments:

This morning, I was multi-tasking: talking on the phone to a girlfriend while I cleaned the back porch. Just as I was finishing up, my Relief Society president pulled up to drop off a few things for me. I invited her into the house and we chatted for a minute in my kitchen. As we were talking I happened to glance into the dining room. Oh, how I wish my camera wasn't in the Henry Mountains! I saw my Eliza, shod in tap shoes, happily tapping away on top of the dining table, singing along to the Bella Dancella Tap movie. She was totally oblivious to the rest of the world. I stifled my laughter - I was afraid if I startled her, she'd side right off the table - and pointed it out to my friend. She was just as amused and charmed as I was. I waited until after she left, however, to tell 'Liza about the hazards of tap-dancing on dining room tables. As much as I hated being a kill-joy, I didn't want to make a trip to the ER for stitches, either.

It does seem that Eliza has more funny stories than the rest of my kids. Maybe it's just her age, maybe it's her personality. I don't know, but I had to share, before I forgot about it, in all the hustle and bustle.

Mark and Hyrum are sleeping in the Henry Mountains tonight. It's Mark's first big hunt, and Hyrum's birthday present.

For you trivia fans, the Henry Mountains were one of the last-surveyed and last-named mountain ranges in the lower forty-eight United States. They were named by John Wesley Powell in honour of Joseph Henry, the first secretary of the Smithsonian Institution. They were last mountain range to be added to the U.S. map. Before their official naming, they were referred to as the "Unknown Mountains."

It's wild, rugged, beautiful country. It even looks remote by satellite! The only wild, free-range buffalo herd roams around in the Henrys...no, that's not what they're hunting. They're after elk. They're hunting with some friends of ours, and they sent me these photos this morning. Thought I'd share.

The Eliza Moment:

Ah, the out-of-body experience it must be to be three. Eliza is so small, and has so much personality, I have no idea how she fits it all in there. Right now, she's wandering around the house, singing snatches of songs from "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat". For some reason, it really resonates with her. When she's not singing that, she's dancing and singing to "My Turn On Earth" (no, we're not complete musical junkies, but those seem to be the movies that resonate with her).



This morning, we went out to the Family Co-Op garden to dig sweet potatoes. As we turned onto the gravel road that takes us to the farm, we went down a short-but-steep hill. Eliza, who's car seat is positioned so that she can look out the windshield, put up her arms and shouted "WHEEEEEEeeeeeee!!!!" all the way down, as if our van was really her own personal roller coaster. Oh, the joie de vie.



A few days back, Eliza was sitting on the steps to the basement, watching me switch out the laundry. She must have been in a particularly introspective mood, because she asked me, "Mommy, why do Grandma and Grandpa Mason live all alone?"
"Well, because all their children grew up and moved out."
"But why are they all alone?"
"Because their children are grown-ups now, and have their own homes."
"Mommy, when all of your children are all grown up and moved out, I will stay with you. I don't want you to be all alone."
! ! ! Where does that girl get these things? What kind of three-year-old is thinking about lonely people? Then she went on to ask about my mom:
"Mommy, does Nana live all alone?"
"No, she still has Uncle Wilson living with her."
"Can I talk to her?"
So, I dialed my mom's work number, and explained the circumstances to her, then handed the phone to Eliza. Well, Eliza and her Nana proceeded to chat for next ten minutes (an unprecedented feat for my girl, who is so ornery, she refuses to talk to people in person, let along on the phone...proof once again that she can do anything, as long as it's her idea.) about Halloween costumes and the squirrels in our yard and all sorts of Nana-granddaughter things. Then, Eliza saw her neighbor friend out in the yard, and was half way over there to play before she remembered she had the phone to her ear. She came breathlessly back to me, said "bye!" to Nana, and passed off the phone, yelling a request for permission to play over her shoulder as she ran off. What a girl.

Here she is dancing in Aunt Sarah Sue's dance recital costume...it was the highlight for her of the family camp-out, second only to the s'mores. :o)

Not enough time! Not enough time! I have bunches to do, children to nurture, places to be, and dishes to wash. Mark & Hyrum are leaving on their Elk Hunt three days earlier than planned, and so there are lists to be made and double-checked, packing to be done, and laundry to be sorted so they both have enough socks and undies to last two weeks. I promised Mark I'd make him some no-nut granola bars and trail mix before they left, so I'd better get on the ball with that, huh?



I wanted to tell you all about our family reunion/camp-out from last weekend, but it's going to have to wait. But I'll just post the video clip from when we went ice-blocking. You'll see Mark giving kids rides down the hill, plus other members of the family getting in on the fun. Have fun watching it. I'm going to go make granola for my sweetie. Here t'is:

I love words! I enjoy listening to people talk, just so I can hear how they pronounce words. I like hearing colloquial-isms and jargon and spoonerisms and reading the thesaurus. When I'm reading stories to my children, I like to concentrate on precisely pronouncing each word. I have fun playing with my diction, and playing with words. We play rhyming games and onomatopoeia and alliterations. I read the book "Runny Babbit"

(by Shel Silverstein, his last book before he died) to my kids. HA! That was so much fun. I totally recommend it to you. Good luck reading it out loud...that's a huge tongue twister, but such a funny one; I triple-dog dare you!

So anyhoo (see, there's one of them), I am always on the look-out for a fun, new word. The English language is chock full of words I've never heard of before, that no one uses anymore. Every once in a while, I run into such a word. I have MSN's Encarta saved to my Favorite Links, so I can look up a word just as soon as I find it (can't wait! must know now!). I started a collection of words I didn't recognizing - starting with hirsute - covered in hair; having a large amount of hair (from Latin hirsutus “shaggy”) - about two and a half years ago. I felt like my brain was turning into mommy-mush, and I had to do something to stave off the impending mental atrophe. My list (a document I fondly call "Amber's Vocabulary Words"...I'm such a word nerd) is now 80 words long. Do I have a favorite? It's hard to pick just one...I'm fond of them all, just because they're fun and intelligent and different. But I really like maledicta – punctuation and other marks substituted for specific obscenities, so readers can tell what they are without having to read them and piffle - nonsense: silly talk or ideas. I just found a new one tonight, prompting this post: germane – relevant: suitably related to something, especially something being discussed. Mark said he already knew that one. I am already looking for ways I can use it in ordinary conversation: "Honey, that's not exactly germane. We're discussing Christmas presents for the kids, and you go off about dental check ups". Can't you just see it? Here are the last few words I found. I like them a lot (of course I do, or they wouldn't be on my list). They're fun to roll around on your tongue (and yes, they're all part of our language):

• kvell - feel delighted and proud
• schadenfreude – gloating at somebody else's bad luck: malicious or smug pleasure taken in somebody else's misfortune
• profligate – wasteful: extremely extravagant or wasteful
• insalubrious – unwholesome: not pleasant, healthy, or wholesome
• consigliere – adviser to organized-crime boss: an adviser to the leader of a crime syndicate
  

  

I know. Not everyone gets all giddy about vocabulary. Normal people are insouciant (unconcerned, cheerfully unconcerned or unworried about something) when it comes to terminology. Some of you probably moan and roll your eyes at the mere mention of vocabulary. No doubt, you have bitter memories from High School English. You may find yourselves singing that song from "My Fair Lady" (Words! Words! I'm so sick of words!). You may ululate (howl: to howl or wail, in grief or in jubilation) when faced with someone like myself, fascinated and obsessed with language arts. My heart goes out to you. I get a lot of joy out of words. Maybe it can be contagious?