Snowman cookies

Sarah and I made snowmen out of cookie dough.

They were cute in their raw state, but

after baking, they looked like creepy alien coneheads.

Noah's funneral

The kids have been to two funerals in less than a week.  We didn't really attend the second one, just worked at the post-funeral lunch. 

Noah hauled the 22-pound bags of ice, which was a big help.  He's always said that he doesn't want to have a funeral when he dies. He wants to have what he calls a "funneral".  He imagines his friends and family getting together to play games, have a water slide and a cookout (he always emphasizes that he wants lots of food at the funneral), and just have a good time celebrating and remembering him. He wants it to be a happy occasion with no tears. I tell him that he's telling the wrong person, because I don't intend to be the one arranging his funneral. 

Whole family homeschool day

Mike took the day off today, for reasons unknown to me, but I'm sure glad he did.  We modified our school schedule accordingly.  We were behind a week on our astronomy class, so the first order of business was to get caught up on that.  I love this class! I think it's my favorite of all time.  It's just amazing and fascinating to me to learn about the stars and the stories people tell about them.  

There's Mike, expounding upon how unfathomably huge the universe is.  One thing we learned about is our local supercluster of galaxies.  It's called Laniakea, which is a Hawaiian word meaning, "immeasurable heavens".  I like that word. After hearing about the vastness of the known universe, Sarah said, "Ok, my brain just broke."(By the way, Mike is wearing a hat in the house because it's cold in here.  We're holding out for Thanksgiving before we turn on the furnace).

Then we had a P.E. break. Some of us walked, while others jogged, and some did a combination, but we all ended up back at home for a garbage pickup and a stretch. We picked up garbage that has been blowing around, since yesterday (garbage day) was very windy.  We found an empty box of cat litter in the neighbors' yard (they don't have cats) and an empty Dominoes box right on our front porch (we don't have Dominoes pizza delivered).

Mike helped each student individually with math corrections.  I really appreciated that, because it's the most frustrating part of my job.  We did a little spelling and watched a cat chase a fly all around the school room.  It's been a nice day.  I wish Mike could be here with us every day.

Mini heart attack

I told Sarah that she was my favorite girl in the whole world, which prompted this disturbing conversation:
S: More than Mary, the mother of Jesus?
M: Yes.
S: But if we didn't have Mary, we wouldn't have Jesus, and without Jesus, we'd be lost!
M: God would have used some other girl to birth Jesus. It could have been you!
S: No, it couldn't be me.
M: Why not?
S: Because I'm not a virgin.
M: WHAT?!?!
S: Wait...isn't a virgin an unbarren person?
M: What do you mean by unbarren?
S: Someone who can birth babies.
M: That's called fertile. A virgin is someone who has never had sex before.
S: Oh, right. Well then, I guess God could have chosen me.
She flounced away at that point, leaving me to recover.

I punched a Marine--Happy Veteran's Day!

When I was in grade school, there was a little punk kid who kept bullying me on the bus.  I asked him repeatedly to stop. He didn't. On and on it went for days, maybe weeks, until I couldn't take it anymore.  I told the bus driver about it and asked for permission to punch him in the face. She granted her permission. I went up to the jerk and told him if he didn't leave me alone, I was going to punch him in the face. He jeered at me. I punched him in the mouth so hard that his teeth cut my skin and made my hand bleed.  He never bothered me again. Later I found out that he went on to become a Marine. I thought of this out of the blue today, on Veteran's Day.

Locked myself out. Again.

Van full of groceries. Just need to run in to Gym Corner to pick up Sarah. It's cold out, but I'll be quick, so no need to put on my jacket.  Go in, get Sarah, come back out, pull the door handle on the van...why isn't it opening? I didn't lock it.  I peer through the window. Yep. I locked it. And there are the keys, dangling from the ignition. No problem. I've done this before (OK, I do it at least monthly).  All I have to do is reach underneath and get the magnetic key holder with my extra key inside it and we'll be back in business. I get on my knees, reach under, feel nothing but smooth chassis where my key holder always is.  Panic. It must have fallen off somehow after all these years of faithful service.

I flop down on the hard asphalt and remember that Mike was the last one to replace the extra key.  I call him. He says he moved it to a "little crevice that is just perfect for it."  It's not perfect for ME, because it's not my usual spot.  I feel around. I can't find it.  Now I'm lying flat on my back, feeling all over the whole greasy, grimy underbelly of the van in the dark. I don't feel it anywhere, and I can't see a thing.  I shinny and gyrate myself along until I'm completely underneath the van. Sarah turns her phone into a flashlight and slides it under to me.   I'm cold, hungry, annoyed, and I can't find it. I know my jacket is right above me, all warm and cozy inside the van, as I should be. I mumble to myself something about "...if I ever find it, I might shove it up his perfect little crevice.."

I twist myself around to look from the other direction and finally locate it. I wiggle my way out, and I go to stand up. But I've been lying on cold, hard asphalt for a long time in various contorted positions, and I'm old and stiff, so I promptly fall right over backwards like a drunkard.

When we finally get home, Sarah tells Mike what I said about his crevice. How is it that she can hear me mumbling to myself from underneath a vehicle, but she can't hear me when I speak plainly right next to her?

Omnipotence

We're working through a devotional series about the attributes of God.  This morning, we were talking about God's omnipotence. 
Me: When we use our power, we get tired and have to rest and eat to replenish our energy. God's power is not like that. That reminds me of an Andrew Wommack story.
Sarah: No, please. Don't.
Me: You don't want to hear it?
S: I don't mind hearing about God, but I don't want to hear about Andrew Wommack. And it will go on and on...
M: It's a story that Andrew Wommack tells about God, and it's not long.
S: Oh all right.
M: There was a man who came to Andrew Wommack for prayer. Andrew asked him what ailments he had, and the guy went on and on about everything that plagued him from head to toe. Then he said the most bothersome was his back, so if Andrew could just pray for his back, that would be good enough.  Andrew said, "Yes, we wouldn't want to ask God to heal all your problems, because the lights in heaven might dim!" He was making the point that God is powerful enough to do anything, even more than we can think to ask. 
S: The lights in heaven wouldn't dim. They'd probably get brighter when God gets all that glory!
I'm glad I told that story, because her perspective added to it.  Noah added some good thoughts too, but I've already forgotten them.  If I don't write this stuff down right away, it slips away...