Manic Monday

About five-something this morning, my oldest son woke up crying.

We're staying in the basement at my in-laws' house. Hubby and I are in a bed, the baby is in a pack-n-play, and the two boys are sharing a big air mattress that inflates to about two feet off the ground.

Waking to the sound of my oldest wailing, I get up to see what's going on.

"What is it?"

"I fell off of my bed."

"Ok, you're going to be ok. Go back to sleep."

"I think I'm bleeding."

Now, my oldest has a tendency to be a little bit of a drama-king. Also, he believes in the magical powers of the Band-aid, which he's not allowed to have unless he's bleeding. Moreover, his grandpa on my side (also known as Uncle Buck) tells him he's not really hurt unless he's bleeding.

So, being the wonderful, tender-hearted, compassionate mother that I am, I told him, "You're not bleeding. Go back to bed."

"I really think I am!"

"Honey, you're not bleeding. You're going to be ok. Now go back to sleep."

"But Mommy, feel my chin!"

So I touched his chin.

And sure enough, it was bleeding.

Ok, so I was wrong. It happens on very rare occasions. Now it's time for a trip to the bathroom.

There is a dim light that shines from outside, making it possible to traverse the hallway and see enough of the bathroom fixtures to do what needs to be done, so I didn't turn on the light. I just got some toilet paper and wiped up the blood. I told my son to hold another piece on his chin and go back to bed.

"When we wake up, we'll ask Grandma for a band-aid," I promised.

My husband got up before I did. My son was already up, sitting in the bathroom, holding more toilet paper to his bleeding chin. Hubby put some ointment on the spot and covered it with a band-aid.

When I got up, I was going to check it out to see the damage more clearly, but my hubby suggested that it would be best not to remove the band-aid.

So I really had no idea how bad it was until a couple of hours later when Grandma got home.

Grandma took one look and decided he needed stitches. Her assessment was corroborated by my sis-in-law, and when I finally got to look at it, I discovered a pretty good-sized hole in my son's chin. We told my son we were going to take him to get stitches, and as my husband was explaining to him how cool stitches are, my nephew told him "Don't do it! It's really going to hurt!"

So my sis-in-law drove us down to the Immediate Care Center where, as these things go, we sat around for awhile waiting our turn, and then went to go see a doctor. My nephew wanted to come along to give my son moral support. As we sat in the exam room, waiting for the doctor, my nephew very compassionately told my son to "be tough" and "it's going to be ok" and other sorts of things. Then the doctor came in, and my nephew promptly tucked his head inside his coat and zipped it up over his face so he wouldn't have to watch.

The doctor was a really nice lady, and unlike many doctors I've seen, did not try to make me feel guilty or like a bad parent. Her assessment of my son's chin was that whether or not she stitched it, he'd scar, and since it is in a place that won't really show, she didn't want to put him through the trauma of getting stitches.

I pointed out that my nephew was far more traumatized than my son, but, being of a naturopathic mindset, I told her "The less the better." So, she taped the hole shut with several little strips of tape and we were set.

Later this evening, my middle son tripped and fell into something giving himself a pretty good knot and a scrape on his head. Then, shortly before bed, my oldest bumped into my middle child and gave him a bloody nose.

And it's just another manic Monday.

How I Met Your Father

Despite being out of town, I wanted to make sure I wouldn't disappoint those of you who are eagerly awaiting the next installment of my Saturday Story.

If you're just joining us, check out Part One and Part Two.

Part Three: The Others

Aside from his very secret feelings for Elva, Obsessive Crush had a very public "friendship" with Harmony Strong.

Obsessive Crush still claims that he and Harmony Strong were never more than friends, and if he ever thought of her as more than a friend, it was only very briefly. To my knowledge, she makes the same claim.

However, to the casual observer, (and to the stalker), their relationship seemed anything but "just friendly."

Harmony Strong was also part of the Chorale, and so she and Obsessive Crush saw quite a lot of each other. Moreover, Obsessive Crush spent many hours outside Harmony Strong's apartment, talking.

I know this, because my dorm room window looked out over the lawn to the back door of Harmony Strong's apartment. And, since guys weren't allowed in girls' apartments, he stood on her doorstep, making their conversations continuously visible.

Day after day, as I sat at my desk studying, I would chance to look up, and there would be Obsessive Crush, talking to Harmony Strong. Many an afternoon I could be found weeping, trying not to stare, counting just how many hours he'd stood there this time...

Also serving to betray the claim of "just friendness" was the knowledge that Obsessive Crush had taken Harmony Strong to a concert, and then that he invited her to the formal banquet that would be at the end of the year.

Which left me wondering, What did Harmony Strong have that I didn't? Why did Obsessive Crush like her and not me?

The one redeeming element of those torturous days was that I had a secret admirer.

A real, live, romantic, story-book quality secret admirer.

Shortly before Valentine's day, Secret Admirer started leaving me notes in obscure places, buying me gifts, and doing all the romantic things that secret admirers do to win the hearts of fickle young college freshmen.

I was completely flattered, to say the least. I'd often dreamed of having a secret admirer, and so this was literally a dream come true.

But alas, I knew Secret Admirer was not Obsessive Crush, because Obsessive Crush seemed to be infatuated with Harmony Strong.

Anyway, Secret Admirer eventually revealed himself. It was another Chorale member, Englebert. We went on a date on Valentine's day, and we had a very nice time. Englebert is a really nice guy, and I was truly flattered to have won his attention, but we really didn't have much in common, and I soon realized he was not the one for me.

Unfortunately, my disinterest did not cause his interest to wane.

So... Englebert liked me, I liked Obsessive Crush, Obsessive Crush liked Elva--or possibly Harmony Strong, and we were all going to be on the road together over Spring Break for the choir tour trip through California...

Snow Day!

We are in Portland for the week.

We left home yesterday afternoon and got here last night. My brother in law picked us up from the airport in his Yukon, because, aside from there being too many of us to fit in a regular sized car, there is also too much snow for my in-laws to escape from their house.

My in-laws live in the city--not even the middle of no where. But driving to their house through the snow was still quite an adventure.

My kids don't sleep well when we're not at home. The baby refused to go down for the longest time, and kept throwing a fit every time she saw or heard me. My three-year old also had an extreme case of sugar-high-adrenaline-rush-syndrome. He kept jumping on the bed, yelling at his brother, "Wake up, Brother! Wake up!" He stayed up until like ten o'clock local time, which is like eleven our time.

I'm thinking he has an adrenal-gland malfunction. As in, it gets going and doesn't quit. Because he's ridiculously hyper ALL THE TIME, and he almost never sleeps. Plus, he has the greatest metabolism I've ever seen.

Anyway, we got here, ate dinner, and went to bed. When I woke up, my five-year-old was already up, begging to go out and play in the snow.

We don't actually own any snow-gear. Fortunately, the kids' cousins- who are just enough bigger for the most part to give us hand-me-downs and also live here- sent over snow pants and boots for us to use. As I was bundling up the big one, the middle one woke up, so we had to get him all bundled too.

And someone had to go out and play with them, since Grandma and Grandpa don't have a fence or anything around their yard.

So Mommy (that would be ME) got on a jacket and boots and gloves and went out to play in the snow.

Now, I realize that some of you live in places like Minnesota where mountains of snow and sub-freezing temperatures are normal.

There's a reason I live in Phoenix.

It was great fun, and Grandma borrowed sled-disk thingies from a neighbor so we went sledding down the hill and had a jolly good time.

But, it only served to re-iterate the fact that I like to visit snow. As long as I can look forward to going back to Phoenix when I'm done.

Merry Christmas!

Why are you blogging?!?!?

It's Christmas, for Pete's sake!

Get off the computer and go spend some time with your family. Honestly! I shouldn't have to tell you this.

Why are you still reading this? Go on now, your holiday merriments await! Shoo!

Merry Christmas!

Word-Game Wednesday

Solve the Riddles to Decipher the Christmas Carols!

1. Embellish interior passageways
2. Vertically challenged adolescent percussionist
3. Caribou with vermillion olfactory appendage
4. Its arrival occurred at twelve o'clock during a clement nocturnal period
5. Righteous darkness
6. Singular yearning for the twin anterior incisors
7. First person singular experiencing an hallucinatory phenomenon of natal celebration devoid of color
8. Allow crystalline formations to descend
9. Exclamatory remark concerning a diminutive municipality in Judea southwest of Jerusalem
10. Nocturnal noiselessness
11. Omnipotent supreme being elicit respite to ecstatic distinguished males
12. Query regarding the identity of descendant
13. Proceed and enlighten on the pinnacle
14. Duodecimal enumeration of the passage of the Yuletide season
15. Move hither the entire assembly of those who are loyal in their belief
16. We are Kong, Lear, and Nat Cole
17. The Yuletide occurrence preceding all others
18. Jubilation of the entire terrestrial globe
19. Do you perceive the same vibrations which stimulate my auditory sense organ?
20. Vehicular homicide was committed on Dad's Mom by a precipitous darling
21. Boulder of the tinkling metal spheres
22. Far off in a feeder
23. Jovial yuletide desired for the second person singular or plural by the first person plural
24. Listen, the winged heavenly messengers are proclaiming tunefully
25. Parent was observed osculating a red-coated unshaven teamster
26. Cup-shaped instruments fashioned of a whitish metallic element
27. At the zenith of the habitat
28. During the time ovine caretaker supervised their charges
29. Seraphim we have aurally detected in the stratosphere
30. First person singular predicting arrival at own domicile for yuletide season
31. Exclamatory remark concerning a festive perennial
32. Journey in open conveyance with runners

Thanks for playing, and have a very merry Christmas!

How I Met Your Father

Due to popular demand, and for lack of anything better to post about, I have decided not to wait until Saturday to give you the next segment of How I Met Your Father. So, without further ado:

Part Two: Piano Guy

The first time I saw Piano Guy he was, ironically, playing the piano.

It was the first day of Chorale practice. Chorale is a fancy word for Choir. And, since college students tend to be pretentious, it seems somewhat fitting that a college choir should be called Chorale.

My friend Liv got a partial scholarship to play piano for Chorale. She didn't get a full scholarship, because it was divided between her and Piano Guy.

So, being a true and loyal friend, I made up my mind not to like that jerk who stole half of Liv's scholarship and was sitting there showing off his fancy finger-work.

Then I got to know him. Stupid bum was not only smart and talented and funny and clever, but he had EVERYTHING in common with me!

Seriously, like when he was hanging out in the girl's dorm (which was against the rules, by the by, but he got special privileges because he was there to "fix computers" more than once) he noticed a book I was reading and was like "OH, you're reading THAT? That's a really good book!"

And on the many occasions that we pretentious college students got into political discussions, he and I were on the same wavelength and had all the same radical notions.

Not to mention that we shared an interest in music and various obscure theological doctrines.

Needless to say, my resolve to dislike Piano Guy didn't last long. Although he thought I liked him long before I actually did, I thought of him as a good friend. He was convinced I had a crush on him just because I was nice and thoughtful, and consequently thought I was annoying. Of course, that only made things worse when I actually did develop a crush on him.

Which didn't take long. Before I knew what had happened, Piano Guy had become Obsessive Crush guy.

The odd part, though, was that for a guy who was so smart, Obsessive Crush really wasn't very bright. It was perfectly obvious to me before long just how much we had in common, and how well we would fit together. Alas, he was not quite sharp enough to figure that out.

Or perhaps he was just blinded by his secret crush on Elva...

How I Met Your Father

Part One: Starting College

I graduated high school a year early, so when I went to college I was seventeen- a year younger than the average freshman. I had never really been away from home before, except for the occasional week at camp and that sort of thing. I had visited the college for a preview weekend when my brother attended there, but he transferred out before I started. So, at seventeen, I moved away from home, across a state, and into a dorm on a college campus where I had no friends or family.

I got to school a week before the school year started, because I was on the volleyball team and practices started early. So I moved into the dorm, and for an entire week I was alone, except for the RAs who had their own lives and their own friends. I didn't know anyone, and while my RAs were awesome, babysitting the lone freshman really wasn't on their priority list. Needless to say, by the time the rest of the freshmen moved in a week later, I was pretty homesick.

Sitting in my room, crying from loneliness and homesickness, was how I first met Kandi.* Kandi had moved in from literally a mile down the street, and also moving into the dorm was her very best friend from high school. From the moment she met me, forlornly weeping in my room, Kandi thought I was a nerd and didn't like me. She hardly even spoke to me.

Not that I minded. I had virtually nothing in common with Kandi, and would have been perfectly happy to never develop a friendship with her.

But alas, 'twas not to be. Destiny would not allow me to remain unfriendly with Kandi.

Because Kandi had a cousin.

Piano Guy.


To be continued...

*Some names have been changed to protect the guilty.

Stay Tuned

I am a writer.

I like to write romance.

So it occurred to me the other day that I have a REALLY GREAT love story of my very own.

The story of how I got together with my husband is a great tale, and is a lot of fun to tell. So, I've decided to tell our story for my Story Saturday.

I'm just going to start telling the story, in installments every week for as long as it takes.

So stay tuned for my very own love story, How I Met Your Father, every Story Saturday starting tomorrow and going until I'm done.

I hope you enjoy it! I sure do...

Word-Game Wednesday

Hey kids! Sorry I haven't been around in awhile. I've been crazy busy trying to get things ready for Christmas. Several of my gifts for family members are home-made, so I've been working on that and shopping. Also, catching up on silly things like laundry and and dishes that I neglected while I was reading...

Anyway, I hope you haven't given up on me!

Here's a Wednesday (and I realize that it will be at least Thursday by the time most of you read this, but whatever) Word Game that everyone should find easy to do:

1. Find the book that is closest to where you're sitting right now
2. Open the book to page 57
3. Copy the third sentence on that page
4. Write the name of the book and the author

Here's Mine:

"We discovered this about eight hours ago while we were pulling people out of bed for questioning."

From A Lever Long Enough by Amy Deardon

I haven't read it yet- I just got it in the mail today. I won it from a contest on Amy's blog (THANKS AMY!!!), but just that one sentence makes me want to, how about you?

Enjoy!

Capitalism- YAY!

The Economy: Where am I going, and why am I in this handbasket?

We've been hearing for weeks (months?) about how our economy is in trouble, and we're looking at a recession, and all sorts of exciting things like that.

One of the many things that has suffered due to the sad economy is the book publishing industry. People are buying fewer books, which means that publishers are printing fewer books, which means that agents are taking on fewer clients, which meanst that up-and-coming authors (like myself) are getting fewer and fewer chances to break in to the industry.

Here's the good part.

The economy in a capitalist society works on a system of supply and demand. If there is a demand, someone will seek to supply it.

Here's the thing- if people are buying books, then publishers will see there is still a demand and they will supply more books, and that whole vicious cycle a couple of paragraphs ago can be completely reversed. Wouldn't that be cool?

And this is true in every area, not just publishing. This puts us in charge of our economy. We have the power to change the recession.

It will be hard. Not saying it won't. Not saying it's not going to pull you out of your comfort zone. But if enough people are in on it, we can turn things around.

"Oooh, oooh, count me in!" you say. "How can I help? What can I do?"

First, buy books!!!!!!!!!!!! Lots and lots and lots of books! Give them to everyone on your Christmas list, and get some for yourself.

"But I can't afford that!" you complain.

Ah, but that's where the comfort zone comes in. If we all panic and try to save our money, then nobody spends, and the shop owners don't have any money so they don't spend, and then everyone who has a company loses money, and the utility companies lose money, and people get laid off so they spend less money, and.... well, you get the point.

So get out of your comfort zone a litte and go buy some books.

Second, if there's someone on your list that can't read (kids don't count- kids can always use books even if they can't read yet! I'm talking about adults who are too lazy), buy American. Support local industries. By refusing to support outsourcing, we will create a demand for locally made products, and to supply that demand, more jobs will be created, and more people will have money to spend on other locally made products, and again with the vicious-cycle-reversal.

So let's change our economy. Capitalism- YAY!

Tagged!

My good blogging-buddy Travis Inman tagged me with this game thing, so, in lieu of a decent word-game, I'll play along with this.

I'm supposed to share seven things about me.

Does this remind anyone of those email forwards that you're supposed to send to everyone in your inbox including the person who sent it to you with 7,433,568 questions about yourself so people can get to know you better?

Questions like "Ice Cream or Cookies? Orange or Green? Boxers or Briefs?" and other random things that really don't give you any actual insight into personality or character but only serve to clog your inbox and make you feel guilty if you don't at least send it back to the person who sent it to you...

On the other hand, one of those irritating emails played a vital role in me getting together with my husband, so I guess I should stop knocking them...

Anyway-

Seven Random Tidbits of Information About Me

1. I was in love with my husband for five years before he finally got around to marrying me.

2. I sing, play piano and bass guitar, and used to play flute.

3. I enjoy guns and shooting, and would love to learn how to hunt.

4. I have the three best-looking kids on the planet. (And yes, I only have three- there aren't any ugly ones in there.)

5. My Pen Name (Avily- I know, you're shocked that this isn't my real name!) is one that I made up when I was about four. She was my very first character that I made up stories about when I was a kid.

6. All three of my kids were born at home without the use of any drugs. On purpose.

7. I don't believe in watching the movie before I've read the book.

Instead of tagging anyone, I'll just let you post your random bits of personal revelation in the comments section. Enjoy!

Time for a Laugh

Obviously I haven't been a-blogging much lately. I'm trying to catch up on life in between reading a friend's manuscript before her deadline.

So, in an effort to relieve my brain from too much heavy thinking, I thought this would be a good day for jokes.

So, tell me your favorite joke! Enjoy everyone else's jokes! And have a peachy day!

My Favorite Blonde Joke of All Time:

So this Blonde was standing on the street corner, jumping off the curb into the street. And every time she jumped, she said "forty-two."

Jump.

"Forty-two."

Jump.

"Forty-two."

A Brunette comes along, and, with a look of utter disdain, asks the Blonde, "What are you doing?"

The Blonde grins. "I'm playing this new game, 'Forty-Two.' Wanna play?"

"I don't think so," the Brunette replies.

"Oh come on, it's fun. Just try it!" the Blonde urges.

The Brunette rolls her eyes and concedes. She jumps from the curb and says "Fort..."

BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

About that time, the city bus comes along and runs the Brunette over.

The Blonde keeps jumping.

"Forty-three."

Story Saturday

From "Squids will be Squids" by Jon Scieszka and Lane Smith

Fables have been around for thousands of years. And it's no wonder. Because even thousands of years ago people were bright enough to figure out that you could gossip about anybody-as long as you changed their name to something like "Lion" or "Mouse" or "Donkey" first.

Aesop is the guy most famous for telling fables... This book, Squids will be Squids, is a collection of fables that Aesop mibht have told if he wre alive today and sitting in the back of class daydreaming and goofing around instead of paying attention and correcting his homework like he was supposed to, because his dog ate it and he didn't have time to run out and buy new paper and do it over again before his bus came to pick him up in the morning.

Grasshopper Logic

One bright and sunny day, Grasshopper came home from school, dropped his backpack, and was just about to run outside to meet his friends.

"Where are you going?" asked his mom.

"Out to meet some friends," said Grasshopper.

"Do you have any homework due tomorrow?" asked his mom.

"Just one small thing for History. I did the rest in class."

"Okay," said Mom Grasshopper. "Be back at six for dinner."

Grasshopper hung out with his friends, came home promptly at six, ate his dinner, then took out his History homework.

His mom read the assignment and freaked out.

"Rewrite twelve Greek myths as Broadway musicals. Write music for songs. Design and build all sets. Sew original costumes for each production."

"How long have you known about this assignment?" asked Mom Grasshopper, trying not to scream.

"I don't know," said Grasshopper.

Moral: There are plenty of things to say to calm a hopping mad Grasshopper mom. "I don't know" is not one of them.

Agent Rejects Anonymous

With the search for an agent comes the inevitable rejection letter. Anyone who has submitted to an agent has likely gotten more than one of these depressing little forms. In all likelihood, you've gotten more rejections than offers to represent.

I sure have.

I have about 4,793,865,427 rejection letters, and I have yet to receive an offer. I had a couple of "I'll take a look"s, but nothing beyond that.

So I've decided to start a support group. ARA.

Agent Rejects Anonymous

Hi, I'm Avily, and I'm an Agent Reject.

The very worst rejection I ever got was a form letter (as are most of them), but with a little photocopied flier in the envelope advertising the agent's book on writing a novel.

Essentially, the message I got from this was "Your book stinks, but check out mine. It will tell you how to make yours worth my time."

I realize that I'm being a trifle petty, but it was irritating to me.

The very best rejection letter I ever got- well, actually there were two, both for my Dying for Dragons book. Read a sample chapter here.

One of them said I had "A very creative storyline and some strong areas of writing craft. But many weaker spots that beg for fine tuning."

I appreciated this because:

1. It was this letter that inspired me (after I was done with the crying) to join my writing groups, find a critique partner, and really work on developing my writing craft. Really and truly, this was a life-changing rejection, because it has pushed me to greater heights with my writing than I ever knew I needed.

2. It was a personal response. After 4,793,865,426 form letters, it was really comforting to receive a personal note from an agent who actually took time to review my work.

In the other best rejection letter, the agent said "I'm not at all sure that the fiction publishers I work with would be willing to accept the theme of the story and the plot implications."

How cool is that?! I mean, if you're going to get rejected, that's the way to go! I'd much rather be rejected for my controversial plot than my stinky writing!

Plus the fact, controversy sells. Some day there will be an agent that will be willing to take a chance on it, and we'll make big money.

Or something.

At any rate, it was a good rejection letter to get, as far as rejection letters go.

Your turn.

Tell me about your rejections, or, if you're not a writer and don't have multitudes of agent rejections, tell me about something else. Anything you want that you feel qualifies you to be part of ARA.

Word-Game Wednesday

Due to popular demand, at some point I will swap Word-Game Wednesday for a Logic or other Puzzle Game, but until I find one that will work well with the blog format, you're stuck with another word game. But it's kinda a puzzle game, so I hope it works for everyone!

Here you go!

Can you find thirty (30) books of the Bible in this paragraph? Actually, there are 31 if you can find the variant of one Old Testament prophet's name.

This is a most remarkable puzzle. It was found by a gentleman in an airplane seat pocket, on a flight from Los Angeles to Honolulu, keeping him occupied for hours. He enjoyed it so much, he passed it on to some friends. One friend from Illinois worked on this while fishing from his john boat.Another friend studied it while playing his banjo. Elaine Taylor, a columnist friend, was so intrigued by it she mentioned it in her weekly newspaper column. Another friend judges the job of solving this puzzle so involving, she brews a cup of tea to help her nerves. There will be some names that are really easy to spot. That's a fact. Some people, however, will soon find themselves in a jam, especially since the book names are not necessarily capitalized. Truthfully, from answers we get, we are forced to admit it usually takes a minister or a scholar to see some of them at the worst. Research has shown that something in our genes is responsible for the difficulty we have in seeing the books in this paragraph. During a recent fund raising event, which featured this puzzle, the Alpha Delta Phi lemonade booth set a new record. The local paper, The Chronicle, surveyed over 200 patrons who reported that this puzzle was one of the most difficult they had ever seen. As Daniel Humana humbly puts it, "The books are all right here in plain view hidden from sight." Those able to find all of them will hear great lamentations from those who have to be shown. One revelation that may help is that books like Timothy and Samuel may occur without their numbers. Also, keep in mind, that punctuation and spaces in the middle are normal. A chipper attitude will help you compete really well against those who claim to know the answers. Remember, there is no need for a mad exodus; there really are 30 books of the Bible lurking somewhere in this paragraph waiting to be found. God Bless.

Something Profound

So I was trying to think of something really profound to say in today's blog post. Something really enlightening, moving and life-changing.

It wasn't coming to me.

So I decided to say something less than profound, but hopefully humorous.

I recalled, from my previous post, my argument with myself that I always make the goals I set for myself and it's not like me to give up. This brought to my mind an incident from my childhood...

When I was growing up, my dad would take us camping pretty often. One of our favorite places was in northern New Mexico, an area known as Latir Lakes. There is a series of I think five lakes, all fed by the same lake at the top of the mountain.

To get there, you have to take a pretty powerful vehicle- the "roads" are impassable to anything less than a big truck. The road goes up to the second lake from the bottom.

When we go, we camp by the second lake and take one day to hike up to the fifth lake at the top of the mountain.

The trek from the second lake where we camped up to the third lake is the hardest- the longest and steepest.

So one year (I think I was in high school at the time), there we were, hiking up toward the third lake. I had my swimming suit on under my clothes, just in case.

I have an older brother. As is the case with many older brothers, mine finds great pleasure in antagonizing me. Great, overwhelming glee, actually.

So we got to the third lake, and stood around waiting for my dad to catch up.

My brother says, "I bet you can't swim across this lake. I could, but I bet you can't."

Having a severe case of Middle Child Syndrome, I was left with no choice but to swim across the lake.

I handed my brother my clothes. "See you on the other side."

Have you ever been in a mountain lake that's at like 9000 feet?!?!?!? How about swimming in the arctic- because I'm thinking they're pretty similar!

After a few moments, I could barely feel my extremities (which had suddenly gained about 400 pounds each).

The back of the lake was about twelve times further away than the front. I was the only one brave enough to try. I was probably going to get pneumonia and die.

But I sure as something wasn't going to quit once I'd started!

And so, several months later (okay, it was probably only twenty minutes or so, but still!) I emerged from the arctic waters, victorious in my quest.

And this is for my brother. :P

Updates

Greetings everyone!

Just a few quick updates-

I COMPLETED NANOWRIMO!

For those of you who haven't heard of it, NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel in a month (November).

I did it! There were definitely times when I didn't think I'd make it. Days when my kids were sick, I was behind on housework, or we were out of town. As my wordcount crawled along, there were plenty of times I wondered what I'd gotten myself into.

I was only at 40,000 before Thanksgiving, and we were going to be gone for the holiday... there was no way I was going to finish. I shouldn't have even tried. What was I thinking?

But, there's only 10,000 left to go!

10,000 words in just a couple of days? I've had all month, and I've only done 40, how can I possibly do another 10 in just a couple of days?

Look, Missy, you said you were going to do this, and you're gonna do it! You can meet that deadline, darn it! How many times did you stay up all night in college to do a paper that you'd procrastinated on till the last possible minute? You always manage to make it- that's just the way you are. Now get busy!

So I did. I took my notebook with me, scribbled furiously when I had time between all the family activities, and stayed up till ungodly hours of the night, typing it all in when I got home.

And sure enough, last night, I hit 50,059 words!

My story is far from finished, but I made the NaNo goal, so I was very glad.

Other Updates

Just a couple of updates on my missions post from last week:

Joy Solomon wanted me to mention that China does allow missionaries and Bibles, but they have to be approved by the government.

Christina Carver wanted me to mention that she'll be working with two churches, not just one.

Please don't forget Heather and Jeremy Stephenson who are already in Holland.

Thanks!