Warning: It is permissible to cross a picket line if the picketer is your child.

Wesley is now 10 years old. Dave and I have been waiting for this moment for 11 years--ever since we found out we had a boy cooking in my belly. And what a sweet moment it was when Wesley ventured out and started pushing the lawn mower by himself.

Oh the joy! Oh the pride! Oh the sweet smell of freshly cut grass and weeds on a hot summer day in Georgia. Made especially nicer when you were not the mower!



It took one mowing of our front yard before Wesley demanded payment. Dave, as upper management in charge of exterior landscaping, offered $15 in a moment of weakness.

It took three mowings before Wesley went on strike--asking for $20 per job. Since I am chief financial officer, threw back another number--$12 per job but I would allow frequent water breaks under this new contract.

And then the National Organization of Chore Unionization started. Darn schools! They had teach him to add. In an unprecedented move toward sibling cooperation, Regan threw herself and all her 137 stuffed animals (yes you read that right 137 stuffed animals and I've picked all of them up at one time or another). Regan wanted compensation for being cute and giving good hugs.

I went back to Wesley at $15 per job partly because of Dave's impressive resistance to mowing anymore. Wesley agreed only because I started charging for meals, rent and washing. He quickly ran into the red and started suffering from Milky Way withdrawal. Regan was temporarily satisfied with a grilled cheese sandwich.

However, he said he will be back later in the year to start contract talks. Regan is now preparing her 137 minions how to picket.

Thank you Norma Rae.

The Martyrs of Compiegne

Tomorrow is the feast day of the Sixteen Martyrs of Compiegne (France). Today is the feast day of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. I am presently in the discernment phase with the Lay Carmelites. The Carmelites are an order of Catholic nuns, priests and lay people. Our mission is to seek a closer relationship to God through prayer and the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel.

I was reading about Carmel saints several months ago while trying to decide if this was the path I was meant to follow. I came across these brave nuns who were beheaded in 1794 in the latter part of the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution. They were murdered because they refused to stop living their vocation of prayer and service.

Now, God sometimes has to hit me on the head with a newspaper because well, sometimes, I don't listen. Not only did this story of courage speak to me, July 17 is my late father's birthday. So I took God's hint and decided to join the Lay Carmelite group in my church.

There is no particular reason why I am posting this. It has nothing to do with knitting or my wacky warnings. I guess I wanted to show God that I do follow His direction.

Warning: There is no suicide hotline for chipmunks

Nervy little rodent or deeply depressed squirrel whannabe?

As I type this, there is a small chipmunk peering through the glass in my front door. I'm almost afraid for him. And the fear is not from our lazy cat, Phat Phrancis who, I notice, is lounging four feet from the chipmunk, slowly cleaning herself.

No, I'm afraid of what Zack the Collie will do to our door once he sees this intruder. Borrowing from Dr. Doofenschmirtz, there is a back story to Zack and chipmunks. I won't bore you with the details but once upon a time, Zack swallowed hole a baby chipmunk which he promptly threw back up. Poor hubby had dispose of the slimy animal. So, dear readers (and I am sorry if the details of Zack's food intake made you sick), I am sure you understand my anxiety.

Back to the present time. I don't know if the chipmunk wants to end its' life via through the jaws of a Collie or if the chipmunk equivalent of peer pressure is at work.

"Oh, come on, Fred! The dog is old and not as fast as he used to be. Oscar was asking for it when he got swallowed. I double dog dare you to ring the doorbell," says Petey the delinquent leader of the Chip's Crips. Petey smiles as he elbows other rodents.

And you know what? As Zack FINALLY spies his nemesis and is well on his way to a collision with double pane glass, I now officially don't care if the chipmunk makes it out alive. I just want an estimate on a new front door.

The Joke's on Yahoo.

Okay, Yahoo is under the impression that I am a writer. They've published two of my articles. Here is the link for the latest entry. The more people visit, the more I get paid which is ssssoooo nice since teacher pay is being cut again.