bekahcubed

Categories WIC, Work

Literally Lying

1 Comment by

Names and other details have been changed to comply with HIPAA; otherwise, this story is closely based on a true story :-)

“Are you going to get Shirley some new food?” she asked.

I agreed that yes I was–I would be back in a few minutes.

I returned with checks in hand, delivered them to Sherry and Shirley’s mom, and wished the family a good day.

“She said she was going to get Shirley some new food.” Sherry told her mom.

Mom explained. “She did. She gave me checks, which are sort of like money so I can get Shirley her food. Now we have to go to the grocery store to get the food.”

“Can I tell her something?” Sherry asked her mother.

When Mom said yes, Sherry turned to me. “You said that you were going to give Shirley some new food.”

I tried to explain while Mom laughed, “Sherry, you take this so literally.”

Finally, I realized that the abstractness of a check was beyond Sherry’s 3 year old mind. “I’m sorry, Sherry. I should have been more clear. I was going to get checks so your mom could buy Shirley some new food.”

As Sherry and her family left, I heard mom trying to explain again while Sherry continued to insist: “But she said she was going to get Shirley some new food.”

There’s never a boring moment when you’re working with kids.

Have you ever unintentionally “lied” to a child?

Categories Book Reviews

Book Review: Rose Under Fire by Elizabeth Wein

4 Comments by

I read this book as a part of Amy’s Armchair Cybils. Rose Under Fire was a finalist for the young adult fiction category. Sadly, it did not win, but I think it definitely deserves its position as a finalist.

It starts with a funeral and a report–the funeral of a fellow Air Transport Auxillary pilot, the report Rose must write because she saw the pilot’s failed landing.

How will Rose write about this report? In a way, she feels responsible. She had flown that plane before, the pilot who died hadn’t. She’d briefed the dead pilot on flying that plane. She’d let the other pilot take off first with Rose following behind. But the conversation Rose had with the mechanic who inspected the crashed plane complicates the matter. The plane had been damaged prior to landing. It’d had contact with something. The mechanic thought the pilot had tried tipping a buzz bomb–knocking it off course so it’d explode in an empty field instead of a city where it could injure people.

Rose becomes obsessed with the buzz bombs. They aren’t just buzzing overhead, going silent, and then knocking out whole city blocks–they’re getting much closer. Her colleague is dead. Her bus ride on her day off is spent on the floor of the bus for fear of one falling on them. She finds two boys playing with one undetonated one and orders them away, is left holding a fuse in her hand. She dreams of her little brother with his arm blown off by a buzz bomb fuse.

She talks to her fellow pilots about the buzz bombs, about this “tipping” thing. What are the mechanics? How does one do it? How does one not injure her plane like their colleague did?

Not that she’s likely to encounter a buzz bomb. The allies are advancing, have taken back France. She’s just transporting, not likely to be anywhere near the lines from which the bombs are launched.

Until she is. And a buzz bomb comes near. And she can chase it, can tip it.

And she gets caught by two German planes who escort her back to Germany.

Ravensbruck. The pilot who flew her to prison regards it as just a pilot’s navigation point. Rose finds that it’s so much more. Once there, she experiences unthinkable horrors, sees even worse.

Daily life is a struggle for survival. Physically, yes–but so much more. How does one not despair when stuck amidst maggots, when propping up dead compatriots so that the numbers can match during roll call, when left to the mercy of hellish guards and insufficient food?

Only the few who resist the temptation to despair will survive. Despair means certain death.

How will Rose fare under fire?

It’s difficult to describe a book so rich in historical details, so emotionally compelling, so horrific and so lovely.

Rose Under Fire is not an easy book to read. Ravensbruck is described in stomach-turning detail. One can sense the desperation, the horror of that time and place. One is forced to come to grips with the fact that this- this is what fallen humans can do, have done, could do again.

Davene does a much better job than I ever could of expressing the emotion and thoughts this book evoked.

“But tonight, I feel as if the veil has been lifted, and I’ve glimpsed anew what life is and has been like for so many people born into circumstances so much more difficult than mine. That chasm is so wide that I can’t even mentally reconcile it, but I can–and I will, every single day–say thank you for this life I’ve been given.”

If you haven’t read this book yet, you should. You will find yourself torn up over the reality of sin and injustice, thankful for the life you have now, and prayerful that justice and peace would reign someday over the earth (as it will, we have this blessed hope, when our Lord returns.)

Rating: 5 Stars
Category: YA Historical Fiction
Synopsis: After “tipping” a buzz bomb from the sky, Rose, a fearless Air Transport Auxillary pilot, finds herself in Ravensbruck witness to and victim of unspeakable horrors.
Recommendation: Read this.

Categories Thankful Thursday

Thankful Thursday: Winter Wonderland

1 Comment by

Thankful Thursday banner

We’ve had snow for over a week here in Wichita, which has been uh-MAZ-ing. It started last Monday morning and piled up a fair bit. It was cold enough that it stuck around all week long–and then we got another spate on Sunday to keep it up. Since Sunday’s snowfall, it’s warmed to above freezing every day–so the streets are now mostly dry, but the yards remain a winter wonderland.

I’m loving it.

This week I’m thankful…

…for a winter song
Why is it that we only hear Winter Wonderland before Christmas? It’s totally sad, because it isn’t a Christmas song at all–it’s a winter song, and a snowy winter song to boot. ‘Round here, and even in Nebraska, the chances of enjoying a winter wonderland are definitely better AFTER Christmas. I really enjoyed singing “Winter Wonderland” with gusto while traveling hither and yon through Wichita’s Winter Wonderland.

…for the opportunity to wear my snowsuit
Years ago, before I left Lincoln, I purchased a bright red full body snowsuit at a garage sale in Lincoln. Since moving to Wichita, it has hung forelorn in my coat closet, never seeing the light of day. Even though there was snow last winter, it really didn’t stick around enough for me to be out in it. This year, I bundled up in it to take my weekly trip to the Braums down the street to get our milk (Of course I walk, even if there’s six inches of snow–it’s only a twenty minute round trip.) Then I wore it again for an Olympics opening party my friend Ruth hosted. That’s twice in one week!

…for a strong husband who shovels, scrapes, and sweeps
More than once, over the last couple of weeks, I have arrived home to find my husband hard at work shoveling the driveway. More than once, I’ve come out to my car in the morning to find it already swept free of snow and scraped free of frost. So far, I haven’t done any shoveling this winter–my husband has done it without a complaint.

…for hope for an allergy-free spring
Well, probably not allergy-free. But the week of temps below freezing have me hopeful that my allergies will be a little less severe this year-especially since I’m experimenting with minimal medications for them after years of taking at least three daily allergy meds :-/

…for brightness to cover February’s drear
February has always struck me as the dreariest month of the year. The holidays are over, winter is in full force, and it seems like it’s been ages since we saw the sun. The sky is gray, the days are still short, and everything seems dingy. The regular snowfall of the past couple of weeks has kept this February bright and shiny. The sides of the streets start to get dingy with spray, but then a new little snowfall covered it all up again with fresh white.

…for a reminder
When the snow falls and covers the land, I am reminded…

of God’s power

“He gives snow like wool;
he scatters frost like ashes.
He hurls down his crystals of ice like crumbs;
who can stand before his cold?”
~Psalm 147:16-17 (ESV)

of His sovereignty over creation

“For to the snow he says, ‘Fall on the earth,’
likewise to the downpour, his mighty downpour.”
~Job 37:6 (ESV)

of my littleness in light of His greatness

“Have you entered the storehouses of the snow,
or have you seen the storehouses of the hail,
which I have reserved for the time of trouble,
for the day of battle and war?”
~Job 38:22-23 (ESV)

of the One who invites His people to reason together

“Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool.”
~Isaiah 1:18 (ESV)

of the cry I daily make

“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”
~Psalm 51:7 (ESV)

And then I join with the snow in singing the praises of the One who makes me like snow.

“Praise the Lord from the earth,
you great sea creatures and all deeps,
fire and hail, snow and mist,
stormy wind fulfilling his word!”
~Psalm 148:7-8 (ESV)

As a bonus: Because I know you’re dying to know how much snow the Menter Dynasty’s locations get before and after Christmas, I’ve prepared a chart for you :-)

Average Snowfall Before and After the Holidays

Before January 1st After January 1st
Columbus, NE 8.9″ 22″
Lincoln, NE 8.6″ 17.2″
Madison, WI 17.6″ 33.3″
Okinawa, Japan 0″ 0″
Wichita, KS 5.6″ 9.3″
Categories Everyday Life

Why a little snow in Southern climes is worth freaking out about

4 Comments by

A little over a year ago, I moved 230 miles south from Lincoln, NE to Wichita, KS. It’s not a huge distance. It can be traveled in just more than four hours by car. But it’s the difference between expecting regular snowfall during the winter and not. It’s the difference between experiencing accumulation and not.

Wichita rarely gets snow–and when it does, it generally disappears within 24 hours.

Except for the past two winters. Last year, Wichita had enough snow that they cancelled school for a week.

At first, I, like a whole host of northerners, scoffed at what I considered to be unnecessary closures. But a year of living in Wichita has convinced me that a little snow in Southern climes really IS worth freaking out about.

Do you doubt me?

If you’re from Nebraska or South Dakota or Minnesota, you probably do. But let me make my case.

You’ve heard some from the south talk about how their road maintenance crews are ill-equipped for any amount of snow. This is true in many places–Wichita has snowplows and salt stores, but many more southerly locations do not.

But I feel that the reason a little snow is worth freaking out about has to do with another sort of resource: human resources.

The fact is, southern drivers haven’t driven in snow. They don’t know what they should or shouldn’t be doing. They don’t have the knowledge or the experience to safely handle even small amounts of snow.

In Nebraska, there were three types of unsafe winter drivers: the kids who’d never driven on ice before, the new SUV owners who were overconfident because of their vehicles, and the old women who were roadhogs.

In Wichita, there is only one type of unsafe winter drivers: everyone.

Because no one knows how to drive in snow.

This isn’t their fault. It’s not that they’re bad drivers (although many of them are, unfortunately). It’s just that they have neither the education nor the experience to drive in snow appropriately.

They’re terrified, so they drive far more slowly than the weather merits. They can’t see well, so they drive far more closely together than is safe. They start sliding, so they slam on their brakes. They slide more and it’s slow-mo bumper cars.

The few who do know how to drive in snow (maybe they moved down from Nebraska?) don’t have much recourse except to drive slowly but with adequate distance between cars. The roads are too clogged with slow-driving citizens to let them practice their safe-snow-driving skills.

So what is a southern city to do?

I recommend that they freak out.

Close schools. Let people work from home. Only have essential employees come in.

Keep people off the roads so that the only people on them are those who either have to be or who know how to safely drive on them.

Short of transplanting every resident to a norther clime for a winter and having them practice driving with a native, I think that freaking out is the most reasonable option.

Categories Reflections

Simplified Stories

Leave a comment by

I remember thinking, as Mrs. Dunn told her stories of childhood: “How could all that have happened in one childhood?”

But as I get older, I realize that a few years can carry a lot of stories and that the only reason why every person isn’t just as confused about my life as I was about hers is that I simplify my stories. We all simplify our stories.

Take Agape Christian Academy.

If I were to mention that I attended that school for two and a half years, most of my friends would be confused.

Hadn’t I been homeschooled all the way through?

Yes. Sorta. Maybe. That’s what I tell everyone.

But not exactly.

I was schooled under my mother’s tuteledge from “preschool” through sixth grade and from the second semester of ninth grade through 12th grade.

From seventh grade through the first semester of ninth grade, I attended “Agape Christian Academy” – a non-certified private school run under the same law that governed homeschooling in Nebraska.

A groups of a half dozen or so women, under the direction of Mrs. Dunn, taught the sixty or a hundred K-12 students using typical homeschool curriculum: Saxon for math and Abeka for most other classes.

I generally say that I learned little from my time at Agape, that it was an academically unfruitful time in my life. This also is not technically true. Under Mrs. Ebert, I honed English grammar to a point. She is undoubtedly at least partly responsible for the perfect writing score I got on the PSAT. Mrs. Fahlberg taught me typing on an old electric typewriter. I doubt I’d have the typing discipline I have today if it weren’t for her. And I learned algebra, thanks to Saxon’s self-led approach.

So I did learn a bit academically–but I also wasted hours and hours on non-academic pursuits.

Morning “chapel” time was scheduled to be an hour and a half long, but since “we don’t schedule the Holy Spirit”, it often ran quite a bit longer. Chapel was mostly unstructured, consisting of Scripture readings, praying in tongues, singing the “blood songs”, and listening to Mrs. Dunn preach or prophesy (or maybe tell stories?)

That’s where I heard those stories that made me wonder. She told of her childhood, of her education, of her marriage and life–and I was often confused by what seemed like a disparate set of stories. How did she fit that into the fifty-some-odd years she’d lived by that point? (I’m only guessing at her age-she may well have been older, but probably not younger.)

Now, with just a little less than 29 years under my own belt, I understand completely. We summarize our lives by simplifying our stories, but all of us, were we to start writing down the details, would have books and books and books worth of stories.

It’s only when we have opportunity to hear many of people’s different stories that we realize just how full their lives have been, only when we take the time to jot down many of our own stories that we realize how full our own lives have been.

And then we start to wonder how many stories we’re missing out on by being content with the simplified stories we hear on first meetings.

Categories B3RD, Everyday Life

Have some Salmonella?

2 Comments by

After several instances of finishing cleaning a bowl used to mix cookie dough in or a beater used to mix cake batter only to have my husband complain that I didn’t offer to share the batter or dough first, I’ve learned my lesson.

“Would you like some Salmonella, dear?” I call to him from the kitchen.

If he delays too long and I really need to get my dishes done, I’ll remind him that “Your Salmonella‘s growing, beloved!”

I don’t share in the batter eating.

Not generally, anyway.

But I made some Mini Deep Dish Fruit Pizzas for a Super Bowl party we were going to–and got my hands into the cookie dough while I was mixing it.

Once it was mixed, I licked some of the scraps off my hands before washing them–and then offered my husband the rest of the Salmonella.

A day later, he was complaining of loose, frequent stools.

A couple hours after that, I had the same problem.

It would be. The one time I choose NOT to pass on the Salmonella, it actually contains Salmonella.

Yep, there really is good reason to avoid undercooked eggs (like I tell my pregnant women regularly). If you really can’t resist, pay the extra pennies to buy pasteurized eggs (you can identify them by the red “P” in a circle stamped on the egg shell).

Have some Salmonella?

No, thank you.

Categories Work

What compels me

2 Comments by

Sometimes I don’t know what compels me to ask how “You and baby” are doing at a postpartum visit (instead of my standard “How is baby doing” and later “how are YOU doing?”)

Then a woman shares her struggles with having to quit breastfeeding due to baby not growing and stooling appropriately. And she tells me she doesn’t have an appetite. And that she cries all the time.

I have the opportunity to empathize with her, to agree that it’s hard. I tell her about postpartum depression, how it’s normal to feel this way when so much is going on in her life. I tell her she can get help.

I encourage her to take care of herself–to make a list of things she can have people do when they ask how they can help. I give her suggestions for her list: watch the older child for an afternoon, hold the baby while I sleep, go grocery shopping, wash and cut some vegetables for me, wash and fold the laundry, just listen to me tell you how *I* am.

I encourage her to loosen her standards for household activities–to let herself be okay with laundry that isn’t put away or a toilet that isn’t scrubbed. I encourage her to get some sleep when baby’s sleeping, or even to just lie down and rest. I tell her it’s okay if things stay undone for a while–this is just a season.

I encourage her to talk to a doctor about postpartum depression. I tell her about how he might be able to recommend counseling or medications that can make a big difference.

I give her ideas to help her get adequate nutrition, even when she doesn’t feel like cooking or eating.

And I realize that I know what compelled me–No, WHO compelled me–to ask this woman how *she* was doing first.

Because God knew this woman needed someone to listen and understand. Because God knew this woman needed someone to tell her that she’s normal, she’s okay. Because God knew this woman needed someone to give her hope that this dark time won’t last forever.

Categories Recap

Recap (January 2014)

1 Comment by

Articles Read:

  • Don’t Give My Husband Romance Lessons
    I enjoyed reading this little piece complaining (sort of) about others telling men what romantic means–especially because it came on the heels of a question a man asked in our Sunday School class “Is it okay for me to ask my wife what she thinks is romantic?” The answer was, of course, an unequivocal “YES!” The truth is, I like flowers and chocolates and furbelows as much as the next woman, but I’m too frugal and practical for Daniel giving me those things to be romantic. If he were to start bringing me home bouquets and candy, I’d probably think “Oh, that’s sweet, he’s trying to show me he cares” and then start worrying about which budget line that was coming out of and where I could cut something else to make it fit and… Thankfully, Daniel and I have discussed this and he knows how to romance me without spending money. Remember, men, you don’t need to know how to romance women, just how to romance your wife–so ask her, study her to figure out how to do it.

Books added to TBR List:

2014 Goal Game: 128 points

Tier 1 This month
Establish a Church home 17 points
Cope with Depression 17 points
Be a good wife 9 points
Unnamed goal 1 point
Tier 2 This month
Get House in Order 13 points
Be a good employee 3 points
Be more social 38 points
Tier 3 This month
Take Time for Hobbies 22 points
Cook through “One Pot” cookbook 8 points
Categories Books

Challenges in various stages of completion

3 Comments by

L. M. Montgomery Reading ChallengeNow that it’s February, it’s time to write a wrap up post for this year’s L.M. Montgomery Reading Challenge. This year, I read only one book: The Blue Castle, which was also this month’s selection for the Reading to Know Classics Bookclub.

That would have been all I did for the L.M. Montgomery Reading Challenge, except that I took some time Saturday (I know, not in January at all) to stitch up another article of clothing for Anne’s wardrobe.

For those of you who’ve been following me for a while, you may remember the plain dress Marilla made Anne to replace her yellow-gray wincey (that was a cross between the snuffy-colored gingham and the black and white checked sateen) and the carpet bag with the funky handle (okay, I didn’t replicate that part.)

But now, Anne’s wardrobe has a third piece: the yellow-gray “skimpy” wincey. (Note the too shortness of the hem and sleeves as well as how tight the skirt and sleeves are. The goal was to have no superfluous fabric–did I succeed?)

This marks the end of Anne’s pitiful wardrobe–so the next piece will either have to be THE dress with the puffed sleeves or an outfit from after that wonderful gift. Yay! (Both exciting and scary since I’ll actually have to do some real pattern drafting to add tucks and shirrs and doo-dads for those fancy dresses.)

To see what others have been reading and doing for the challenge this past month, check out the L.M. Montgomery Reading Challenge at Reading to Know.

In addition to the L.M. Montgomery Reading Challenge, I have been trying to sneak in at least one book for the Armchair Cybils, which will be finishing up in the middle of February. Amy wrote a fantastic review of Elizabeth Wein’s Rose Under Fire–and that title just happened to be both a Cybils finalist AND in my local library system.

I’ve been devouring it. It is SO good. Rose is an American pilot who’s in the British Air Transport Auxillary, transporting planes from factory to field and back–until she finds herself landing in enemy territory and is taken to the Ravensbruck work camp where she meets a whole host of other interesting female prisoners.

One particularly interesting note for me was the early mention of (even obsession with) the German V1 “buzz bomb”. When my parents came down to Wichita to visit us last fall, we went to the Cosmosphere in Hutchinson–which has an enormous museum on the history of space. The first room included a V1 buzz bomb and gave a history of it–which made reading about it in a novel all the more fun.

I’m planning to be able to finish it up and review it by the time the Cybils winners are announced on Valentine’s Day–but it’s good enough already that you might as well put it on your watch list :-)

Finally, I’m going to be participating in Barbara H’s Laura Ingalls Wilder Reading Challenge this month. I plan on reading Little House on the Prairie (also this month’s selection for the Reading to Know Book club) as well as a number of biographies of Laura (as many as I can manage of the half dozen or so that I checked out of my local library).

The last time I participated, I made butter a la Ma from Little House in the Big Woods–and I’m eager to see what I can come up with to work on from the Prairie (When I was little, I wanted to build a log house like Pa and Laura did, but the closest I ever got was Lincoln Logs. I think it’s likely that’ll still be the closest I get after this month :-P)

So those are the reading challenges I’m participating in this month (or finished from last month.) Are you participating in any challenges this year? What are they?

Categories Book Reviews

Book Review: The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery

3 Comments by

I knew I was going to like L.M. Montgomery’s The Blue Castle when I got to a line in the second paragraph that I could identify with oh-so-well:

“One does not sleep well, sometimes, when one is twenty-nine on the morrow, and unmarried, in a community and connection where the unmarried are simply those who have failed to get a man.”

Not that I’ve ever been on the cusp of twenty-nine and unmarried. Or that I’ve been in a community and a connection where the unmarried are simply those who have failed to get a man.

But I have been 27 and unmarried, feeling like I was simply one who had failed to get a man. I, like Valancy, “had never quite relinquished a certain pitiful, shamed, little hope that Romance would come [my] way yet.” Until I was 27 and talking to a mortgage officer about a home loan. Then, I felt sure that I’d given up hope.

I was entirely sympathetic with Valancy’s plight.

Then I got to the fourth page, where I learned of the blue castle in Spain, the daydream Valancy had been escaping to since she was a young girl. I knew at that point that Valancy and I would be kindred spirits.

I had no drab existence (at least, not in the sense of a yellow-painted floor with a hideous hooked rug and ancient photos of relatives I don’t know hung within my bedroom) or unloving childhood to escape from–but I took refuge in my own blue castles nonetheless.

Like Valancy, I decorated my castle and imagined romances for myself. I had a series of “lovers” (only one at a time, of course, like Valancy did) who each faded away as a new story presented itself to my mind.

I was never a shy child or a shy woman who cowed under the censure of a strong-willed family. I never had a dull life, was never colorless or mousy. I was not one bit like Valancy in personality or family circumstance–only in singleness and dreaming.

But that was enough for me to like her and be interested in her plight.

Thankfully, Valancy doesn’t stay a single doormouse caught up in her dreams (that’d be a rather boring book, wouldn’t it?) Instead, she receives some news that shocks her out of her complacency and compels her to start living real life.

She starts saying and doing the things she’s been thinking for so long. She throws the jar of mouldy potpouri that’s been sitting in her bedroom out the window and against the building next door: “I’m sick of the fragrance of dead things.” She announces to a dinner party of assembled family that “the greatest happiness is to sneeze when you want to.” And she moves out of her widowed mother and aunt’s house and into the home of a widowed man and his dying daughter.

And then she moves into her blue castle and building her own life–discovering along the way that her castle is a little different than she’d dreamed all along, and so much more wonderful. (I identify with this discovery completely.)

And then comes the second great shock of her life–a shock great enough to overthrow everything she’d been building for the past year (du-duh-DUH!)

I liked this book. I really, really did. And I think others will as well.

Rating: 4 stars
Category: Fiction/Romance
Synopsis: The only interesting thing in dull, mousy Valancy Stirling’s life is her dream world–the “Blue Castle” in Spain. But shocking news changes everything for her and she suddenly starts shocking everyone else by building a real life for herself–in anything but a dull, mousy way.
Recommendation: Definitely worth reading if you like romances (of the unsmutty variety) or L.M. Montgomery

I read this as a part of Carrie’s Reading to Know Classics Book Club and the L.M. Montgomery Reading Challenge–which means you don’t have to take my word on the book as the final word. All sorts of other bloggers are reading and writing up their thoughts on The Blue Castle. Check them out!