Sunday, January 25, 1998 - Jamboree, El Niño, and Clozzicreep

We have just concluded a clamorous jamboree; Bobby has now departed, and the children have all gone off to bed.

First, Bobby played the piano while Dorcas and Hannah played their violins. Next, Hannah played the piano while Bobby and Keith played their saxophones and Dorcas played the organ. Teddy played his C-Major harmonica anytime the song was in the key of C, and Larry sang soprano.

Then, when no one was paying any attention to me, I got out the accordion which Lyle gave Keith shortly before he died and started playing it, making several heads swivel around in surprise. Bobby didn’t even know we owned an accordion. I can’t play it very long, because it’s too heavy for my poor old arthritic shoulders. Anyway, we were right in the throes of a stentorian Joyful Noise, when I suddenly noticed: the music room window was open.

That’s the window closest to our neighbors. . .and their lights were off! And it was 11:00 p.m.

Fortunately, they are usually much louder than we are, and they seem to like us pretty well, so maybe they’ll forgive us.

We hastily closed the window before continuing our melodious racket. Somebody, however, seemed to be off tune. I stopped playing and applied my ear to discern the derivation of the discordant din. And guess who it was?

It was Victoria, crawling about at our feet, pushing buttons on Joseph’s electronic motorcycle.

Newspapers and radio have been buzzing about El Niño. It’s nothing new to us; Joseph creates an El Niño every evening, right here in the house, with his blistering hot showers. And yes, it changes the weather in the entire abode. Rain clouds, fog, and static electricity move in and descend. Temperate zones become tropical isles, complete with oppressing humidity and new mold growths.

And, just as El Niño causes drought in other places on earth, so do Joseph’s pyretical showers bring about a dearth of hot water for ensuing shower-takers.

However, there is one good thing that comes from all this: the other children, immediately upon finishing their supper, rush off to take their showers first, without any urging from me.

Tuesday afternoon and evening we first had freezing rain, then snow. It was so slick, Dorcas and Keith both wound up flatter’n pancakes on the turf. Hester, having just slid down my mother’s steep, icy driveway, came to an abrupt halt at the end of the ice. Bother with people who scoop and salt sidewalks!

Snow and high winds were predicted for Wednesday, so school was canceled. As it turned out, the day was fine; but the roads were still awfully slippery, so it was just as well we called off school, since several of our students live some distance away, several in the country. And it was a welcome break, after all.

Hannah spent the afternoon baking and crocheting; Teddy and Joseph spent part of the afternoon riding on a toboggan behind the four-wheeler, which Larry was driving. I spent the afternoon and evening writing out checks, sticking them in envelopes, sealing envelopes, putting stamps on envelopes, and addressing envelopes.

And practicing my subtraction in the checkbook.

That day some new books by Janette Oke arrived in the mail; so, rather than sew that night, as I should’ve, I read. And read. And read. Just before Larry’s alarm went off, I hastily turned off the light and pretended to be asleep, so he wouldn’t know I’d stayed up all night reading again; if he did, then the next time I wanted to stay up reading ‘for just a little while’ (that’s what I always say, of course), he’d try to take the book away from me, and we’d wind up having a first-rate brawl. I usually win, because Larry doesn’t want to hurt me, and I hang onto the book with all my might and main. (And he’s ticklish.) (But he might coax me into giving up the book; and then I’d be sadly unread.)

So, if he doesn’t know I’ve just recently stayed up all night reading, perhaps he’ll still believe me when I say I’ll turn out the light ‘in just a minute or two!’

When we lived in our mobile home, our first place of abode, the switch box was in our bedroom. So, when I was staying in the kitchen sewing, and Larry wanted me to come to bed, he’d just throw the main breaker, and put me right out of business, wham. I’d go storming back to the bedroom to demand that the electricity be restored, posthaste, and invariably get tackled and hauled straight to bed.

So, if I wanted to stay up and sew, I learned to go to bed first, wait until Larry was sleeping soundly, and then creep back out to the kitchen.

Keith bought a brand-new snowplow for the front of his pickup. It’s three or four years old, but has never been used. A new one is $2,800; he got it for $1,500. Larry helped him put it on and hook up all the wiring on it and the flashing yellow light for the top of the cab. Now Keith is hoping for a big snow, so he can make some extra money.

This week I made Hester a skirt, and cut out a skirt for Dorcas and dresses for Hannah and Victoria and Hester. Lydia likes to bring all her dolls into my room when I’m sewing, arrange them on the bed, and sit amongst them, changing them, feeding them, and talking to me. She’s an enjoyable little dear to have around, prone to giving sudden, unexpected hugs.

Victoria now says “high chair” each time I’m putting her in it to feed her. Or is it “Hi, chair!” I wonder. Perhaps she thinks we’ve taught her to greet the chair?

Monday we ordered a prescription of Imitrex, medicine for migraines, for Joseph. Hannah went to get it for me, and I sent along a signed check. Nine pills come in the box.

It cost $109.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Help! I had no idea they cost so much! I called the pharmacist to find out if they’d made a mistake; no such luck. The patent on this medicine has not yet expired, so no generic form may be produced yet; and there is no other comparable medication, so there is no competition. Also, the store (Walgreens) has a policy against refunding returned prescriptions without a valid reason (‘I can’t afford it’ isn’t a valid reason?), because they must discard of all returned medicines and absorb the cost themselves. The pharmacist told me I could talk to the manager the following day, and he might let me return it (he probably would, too; he’s really nice to us); but I decided not to.

Perhaps it’s a good thing we kept them, because today Joseph had another migraine headache, quite a bad one. He turns white as a sheet, and gets sick to his stomach. He took a pill (a $12.11 pill)--and got over the headache.

Yes, I guess I like my little boy enough to let him have Imitrex. If I have the money, he can have the Imitrex!

Thursday Hannah, Dorcas, and I cleaned out the hall closet, which had a bad case of clozzicreep. (That’s when you close one folding door, and everything creeps right out the other one, folding the door back as it comes.) And guess what I found!--my nice black jersey cardigan which my sister gave me for my birthday several years ago, and which I only wore once before it disappeared off the face of the earth. We put several bags of ugly and unusable things in bags which Keith hauled up to the attic to await somebody’s garage sale next summer, when we’ll hope to gain profit off of somebody who fancies ugly, unusable things.

I found quite a pile of coats and jackets that needed to be mended; I finished that mending the following day, and several of the kids were delighted to find a ‘new’ coat just their size.

Thursday after Junior Choir, we went to Wal-Mart’s Shoe Center, where we got some boots for Lydia and me, and school shoes for Teddy. The hand-me-downs Lydia had been wearing were all cracked and crinkly, as mine were, too. I declare, we might as well have worn nothing but socks, so waterproof were our boots! Lydia’s are purple, fuchsia, and teal; nice, soft rubber with furry lining. Mine are black Sorels, handmade in Canada, with a removable lining, and black fur around the top and down the front. These are by far the warmest boots I’ve ever had, and now I badly need to go hiking in the snow, I do I do I do!

We now have yet another newborn cousin (a third or fourth cousin, I think) named Hannah. Furthermore, the two recent Hannah’s are second cousins to each other. My mother wanted to send the four new babies bibs and silverware, so when we were at Wal-Mart, I got the bibs for her.

Now, if you’ll recall, she’s been eating baby food recently on account of her teeth bothering her; that same night, we got her several jars of baby food.

And then, evidently not knowing who the bibs were for, Caleb said, said he, “Does Grandma need baby bibs to eat her baby food?”

Thursday night for supper I broiled some ocean perch we got from the Schwan man. The house still reeked of fish, the next afternoon. So Dorcas cored a couple dozen apples, filled the holes with butter and brown sugar, and baked them. Mmmmmmm… Essence of Fish, all gone.

Saturday afternoon, everybody but Hannah, Dorcas, Victoria, and me went tobogganing, being pulled by the four-wheeler in fields near Larry’s shop. Hannah didn’t go sledding, because she was executing a vitally essential article: crocheting a bookmark for Bobby with his name cross-stitched in bright embroidery floss. Dorcas was crocheting a doll dress--another one for a friend who is paying her to make them for her granddaughters; I was cutting out Easter clothes; and Victoria was napping.

Last night Larry and I found, at a nearby truck stop, a little teal model Suburban, 1:24 to scale, with opening doors and back hatch. We’ll save it for Joseph’s birthday--if we can wait that long. It really does look a lot like ours.

Victoria was eleven months old yesterday. Goodness! That’s hard to believe. The older I get, the more time flies. She's learning to crawl--an entirely absorbing venture.

Sunday, January 18, 1998...A Brat in the Doctor's Office

Lydia, who just came home from school, bringing the mail in with her, informed me, “We got peanuts in the mail!”

“We did?” I inquired, surprised.

“Yup!” replied she, and gleefully flapped an envelope down in front of me on my sewing cabinet.

I looked blankly at the letter, then back at Lydia.

She giggled. “Peanuts!” she repeated, pointing at the address sticker. “Snoopy!” And she laughed, well satisfied with herself for fooling me like that.

I pinned her sash onto my sewing chair in retaliation.

Thursday afternoon we washed our Suburban. Upon reading that Larry's aunt in Raton, NM, had washed her pickup recently, Caleb laughed.

“We’re doing all the same things!” he exclaimed. “I guess that’s because we’re related.” He reconsidered. “Or maybe it’s just because we’re both muddy.”

Often after getting mail from his aunt, Larry reminisces about his life before he moved here. His family lived in Trinidad, Colorado, just over Raton Pass from the city of Raton. When he was about 12 years old, he had a job milking goats. In addition to the goats, there were a few cows to milk and feed, and he also took care of some chickens. He rode his bike to the ranch and back every morning before school, and it was a several-mile journey over a number of steep hills.

A couple of weeks ago when we were in the doctor’s office, there was a horrendous little brat racing around like a total maniac, stopping only long enough to make angry, belligerent faces at Lydia and Caleb, who had brought along Caleb’s cute little blue suitcase full of cars and trucks and tractors and horses, and such like. The kid wanted them, of course, and he was getting more peeved by the minute that they wouldn’t give them to him. He marched over to a small table, snatched up a large Gideon’s Bible, and smacked it, hard, into the lap of an elegant young gentleman seated near us who’d been doing his paperwork, handsome black leather briefcase open on the chair beside him. His head jerked up, and he looked around, amazed.

“Thank you,” he said in a refined, well-modulated tone. He gazed across the aisle at Hannah, who was crocheting. “I need all the help I can get,” he told her, turning a few pages in the Bible.
Hannah grinned, and the man laughed.

He put the book back onto the table and went on with his writing.

The brat soon noticed. Scowling irately, he picked up a big, hard-cover ‘Psalms; New Testament’ and slapped it into the man’s hands. The man gave up on his bookwork, put it back into his briefcase, and just went ahead and read the book.

Hester began her biggest crocheting project to date: a scarf. Several rows into the design, it was observed that the item was definitely decreasing at the top.

Hester sighed. ”How do you like that?” she queried. “It turned into a doll apron, entirely without my permission!”

So saying, she quickly crocheted a couple lengths of chains onto each top corner, tied it on the nearest doll, and went and stuck her nose in a book (her favorite place to be, anyway).

Dorcas decided to try her hand at small doll dresses, having seen Hannah make so many cute ones. She just finished a ruffly little mint green dress and bonnet, and it turned out dandy. She’s thoroughly pleased with herself. The girls are making these little creations without any patterns at all; I don’t know how they get them to fit the intended doll so perfectly!

Tuesday Bobby brought Hannah a large, framed set of his graduation pictures. On the left in an oval-shaped cutout in the matte, is an 8x10, and just to the right and overlapping the big picture are four overlapping 3x5s.

Hannah has spent a couple of enjoyable evenings at Bobby's house, where she gets many requests to play accompaniment on the piano while the Wright boys (they call themselves the ‘Wright Brothers’) play their numerous instruments (saxophone, trumpet, violin, trombone) and the parents, John and Bethany, along with ten-year-old Esther, the only daughter, sing.

One afternoon we watched a video of the Christmas program at my mother’s house. She enjoys this, as she is not able to attend the program.

This week has been spent mainly at my sewing machine. I decorated a neat black-with-velvet-trim hat Norma gave me, putting gold mesh and gold smocked trim around the crown, and a black lace pouf edged in gold piping at the back. I like hats; I’m glad it’s still in style to wear them to church. Besides being (sometimes) becoming, or cleverly coordinating with one’s frock, hats can do wonders in concealing the fact that one is having a Bad Hair Day. (Of course, one winds up having a Very Bad Hair Day afterward, regardless of what type of Hair Day one was originally having, since wearing hats causes one to acquire Hat Hair.)

Anyway, said hat turned out terribly gorgeous, but there’s a problem: it’s huge. But perhaps if I put enough curls in my hair, and shellac it good and proper with Extra Firm-Hold hairspray, it won’t descend down over my ears and rest its neatly turned-up brim on my nose.

Thursday I was dying for a cinnamon roll, so I got in gear and made some. And then I discovered a glitch in my new oven: you can’t set the temperature below 170°. And 170° would, without question, kill the yeast. So I had to leave the rolls on the counter to rise. I used to put bread or rolls into my old oven, set it on 85°-90°, and find the dough risen just the right amount in about 1 ½ hours. Computers!--the bane of independence. (The oven’s key pad is computerized.)

The cinnamon rolls were finally done at 10:45 p.m., after most of the children had gone to bed. Bother.

Larry and Keith left for Guthrie, Oklahoma, early Friday morning, arriving in the middle of the afternoon. They brought home an entire front end for a pickup, a forklift, and two wrecked pickups. Yes, the slant trailer was full.

And guess what they towed this load with? A smallish three-quarter-ton Chevy extended-cab pickup. It got just over five miles to the gallon, and Larry said that it gave him the nasty feeling it was trying to squirm out from under that goose-neck trailer every time he went over a bridge or a bump, swerving and swaying and jouncing lawlessly about. So he didn’t make very good time, and it didn’t handle well enough at all for Keith to drive. Finally, at about 1 a.m., Larry was too tired to drive any farther, so they got a motel in Salina, Kansas, and came on home Saturday morning.

My mother has an appointment February 5th to have her top teeth removed and false ones put in. She’s rather dreading it; but her teeth are really bothering her, and she can hardly eat. She’s lost weight, which she can scarcely afford to do, and last week she had an abscessed tooth which required a prescription of antibiotics. She’s been eating not much other than baby food, drinking Ensure, and anything that doesn’t require chewing. We’re worried about her; having teeth pulled is traumatic, and she is so frail.

Friday evening Bobby took Hannah and Dorcas to the Sirloin Buffet, after which they went to his house and watched some very old movies which have recently been put on video tape. The movies begin with his grandparents' wedding, over 57 years ago. There were movies of their children as babies, a few other weddings from long ago, and--most interesting to the girls--pictures of me when I was a baby.

Friday and Saturday we made excursions to the Goodwill and the Salvation Army, where we happened upon some extra-good sales: the Goodwill had everything 15% off, which, when added to the coupons we had for four free sweaters, shirts, or blouses, made quite a savings; and the Salvation Army was selling all blouses and shirts for 20¢ each! Boy, oh boy, you should’ve seen us snatching and grabbing stuff right and left, heaping and piling our cart. We got somewhere around 30 brand-new shirts, most of which I will save for presents. Some that were slightly used we kept for the men and boys of the house.

We got some sweaters, blouses, and skirts for Hannah, Dorcas, and I, too. Hester found the most adorable blue and white furry teddy bear slippers for herself and Lydia, and some red and white ones for Caleb; and she got a cute little vinyl book for Victoria, who was well pleased. Dorcas got a black skirt and a beautiful black sweater with pink and fuchsia flowers embroidered on it--a $40 sweater, free. We found some shoes for Hannah for Easter for $2, and they still had the original price tag on them--$15.

Teddy found the book, ‘Brighty of the Grand Canyon’, for 25¢. We were going to give it to Joseph for his birthday, but we’d no sooner arrived home than I absent-mindedly handed it to him, much to his delight.

And now it is long past bedtime, and I will definitely be drinking coffee with caffeine tomorrow.

Sunday, January 11, 1998...Moles & Graduating Boyfriends

I’ve just dispatched a large pile of bills, which took a good deal of time; and I don’t feel like hitting the feathers yet, so I think I’ll type.

Early Tuesday morning, after a rather bad night of unsuccessfully trying to get the mole on Joseph’s neck to quit bleeding, awakening the doctor at 4:30 a.m., washing Joseph’s pillow, and such like, we took him back to Dr. Luckey, who put a couple of stitches in the mole. That stopped the bleeding, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. The doctor told us that the reason it bled so badly was because there was a ‘feeder’ vessel to it, and it was one of those strange types of moles that is actually a cluster of little capillaries. The anesthetic that is used when the mole is removed shrinks these capillaries. Then when the anesthetic wears off, they dilate; and that’s why it began to bleed again.

“You wouldn’t think something so small would be so troublesome!” said Dr. Luckey.

Joseph, having lost quite a bit of blood and hardly getting any sleep, was rather woozy after all that, so he came home and went straight to sleep; and he slept for a good long while, too.

Caleb sympathetically asked Joseph, “Are you staying home from school because you have a Band-Aid on your neck?”

The next day he went to school for half a day; but, instead of going to church that evening, he went straight off to bed. He’s feeling fine now; but I think it will take a while for him to build back up all that blood he lost. Larry just tonight removed the stitches.

Goodness! I’m glad that scary episode is over and done with.

This week I finally finished all the mending and altering and jeans patching. (That is, I think I did--as previously noted, certain persons around this vicinity immediately create new mending jobs for me, once they mark the fact that I’ve completed the first order.) After that, I sewed a skirt for Hester for Easter and the dress I’d been planning to make for Victoria for Christmas if I’d’ve had enough time. It’s fake suede, bright fuschia on the skirt and fuschia flowers on charcoal on the bodice. And guess what? Hannah found a little doll dress out of the very same material which I’d made four years ago for Dorcas when I sewed her a suit of this material! (Victoria’s dress is made of Dorcas’ leftovers.) Hannah put the dress on a cute little doll and showed it to Victoria, who beamed and gave it a sloppy kiss.

This afternoon Caleb was looking high and low for his little purple foam football which Hester gave him for Christmas. Suddenly he remembered.

“Oh, I know where it is!” he exclaimed happily. He pulled a little bench away from the wall and peered down behind it. “It’s right back here in plain sight!”

(Of course, it wasn’t in plain sight at all.)

We recently received a copy of a city ordinance with which we are required to comply. Unfortunately, it wasn’t written in English. At least, I don’t think it’s English. What do you think? --
“The type of protection required under ordinance 95-38, shall depend upon the degree of hazard that exists according to the following:
1) An approved air gap separator or an approved reduced pressure principle backflow prevention assembly shall be installed . . . etc., etc.
2) An approved double check valve assembly shall be installed . . . blab blab blab . . .
3) An approved reduced pressure principle backflow prevention assembly shall be installed at the service connection where there exists a plumbing hazard when a containment type backflow assembly is installed. A thermo-expansion device must be provided for within the facility for which such assembly is installed . . . . blah blah blah . . .
4) In the case of any premises where, because of security requirements or other prohibitions, it is impossible or impractical to make a complete cross-connection (backflow) prevention, a reduced pressure principle backflow prevention assembly shall be installed at the service connection.
5) Yard hydrants or hose bibs, which would be used by the consumer to provide water for direct use or aerial application to surface areas, shall be equipped with an anti-siphon vacuum breaker where a cross-connection (backflow) could occur.”

Anyway, whatever all this malarkey is, it shall be the consumer’s responsibility to install it; expenses for such installation and maintenance are the sole responsibility of the consumer.

As they say in Latin, HELLPP!!

On January the Seventh, at the advanced age of thirteen years, Joseph’s virtual Pooch died.

Unlike the Japanese girl whose mother was up in arms over these traumatic virtual pet gadgets, Joseph was reduced to neither weeping nor wailing over the demise of Rover.

Instead, he cheerily pushed the appropriate buttons to go to the pet shop and buy himself a new puppy.

Pup made it all the way up to 23 kilograms that day--a little pup’s head bouncing around on the screen again. At age two, it metamorphosed into a young dog, pacing to and fro.

Thursday Keith and his classmates had a pizza party at school with their blind teacher, Penny Golden. Dorcas and her classmates were busy all day preparing for the Senior’s graduation dinner Friday; Hannah and classmates had already made the mints (cream cheese, powdered sugar, butter, flavoring, and food coloring) Tuesday. The tenth-graders always have the major part of the job, helping to plan the menu, putting it all together, and baking and cooking it. On Senior Dinner Day, it is the tenth-graders who serve the tables, too. All this work is considered an assignment, and they each receive a grade for it.

The children think it’s jolly good revelry, and rarely does anyone get a lesser grade than 100% for either of those days. All five older children attended the dinner.

Keith found four balloons at his place--two latex, and two mylar. When he brought them home, Caleb and Victoria immediately assumed they were theirs, especially from Keith, and they have been having a marvelous time playing with them.

Victoria points at them and screeches, “Buh-woon!”

What is there about a balloon that children love so?

Keith gave the two girls in his class journals with pictures of kittens on the cover and on every other page, and a matching bookmark; to the four boys, he gave canvas wallets with a leather piece stitched onto the front with a hand-tooled scene of deer, mountains, eagles, or bears.

Thursday Keith sold his pickup, taking in an ’86 Chevy pickup on trade, which he will also sell. He has bought a ’92 S10 4x4 pickup from Larry, which will get much better gas mileage than his other one--the main reason he sold it.

Yesterday morning Larry and Keith went to Omaha for some parts for Keith’s pickup, which had been flipped end-over-end. Luckily (for us, that is), this occurred at a high rate of speed, leaving the cab in comparatively good shape.

Thursday evening I had Jr. Choir for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It is always splendid fun after such a long hiatus.

Larry got us a new CD/tape player with a built-in microphone, which we’ve been playing with lately. The quality when recording isn’t outstanding, but, for the price, it’ll do. The sound of the CD and tape players is excellent.

And now for the most interesting piece of news:

Hannah has a boyfriend.
His name is Bobby.

Saturday we found it necessary (well, it sure seemed necessary to us) to accompany Hannah to Bobby’s house to present him with a graduation present--a chrome Cross pen. On top of the package, Hannah taped a Daffy Duck key ring for decoration. (One should always strive for a balance between dignity and frivolity, don’t you think?)

She enlisted my aid in writing a poem with my gold pen into a pretty blank card. Here’s what I wrote:

I’ve set Thee before me,
And my heart is glad;
I will sing a new song,
For I cannot be sad!

I shall not be moved;
Thou art by my right hand;
In the path of life
Will I come to that Land.
May your path, upon graduation, hold many blessings.

Bobby presented Hannah with a bouquet of carnations, roses, and alpine asters--evidently a memento of their new ‘going steady’ status. It has now been placed, with a great deal of pomp, on the counter which is best and soonest seen from the door.

Tonight Bobby walked Hannah home from church. They seated themselves on the couch to look at photo albums (I’m up to the 69th album, so they’ll have plenty to look at for some time).

Bobby still had his Bible in his hand.

Caleb, noticing that, quietly asked Dorcas, “Is he going to read to us?”

I told Bobby, “You can park your car on our driveway when you come to church; if we need to get our Suburban out of the garage, we’ll just put it in four-wheel-drive.”

Bobby laughed. “It’ll just look like a squished tomato on your driveway,” he said.

He drives a little red Sprint which used to be my father’s shortly before he died.

Bobby works full-time for my nephew, David Walker, who is the owner of Walker Construction.

They pour concrete walls for basements and such like, and the business is flourishing.

And that’s this week’s news!

Monday, January 5, 1998...Virtual Dogs, Real Llamas

Are you ready for an update on Joseph’s virtual doggy? He is now 11 years old, and weighs 99 kilograms (although that changes regularly--for instance, this morning, after missing a feeding, he only weighed 65 kilograms). We were surprised to discover, after he turned nine years old, his entire appearance changed. He really does look like an old dog, and when he eats, he looks remarkably like an old man with ill-fitting dentures. He doesn’t bounce back and forth across the screen like he used to, and the screen that tells his general health has one or two empty squares at the top.

Last Monday evening when we went to Grand Island to look at Christmas lights, we found the neatest acreage all fixed up, just a little way out of town. They had a circle drive, and as we drove around, we saw an enormous Jack-in-the-Box going up and down.

As he began coming back up again, I told Victoria, “Look! He’s coming out!”

She looked. Then she breathed faster and faster, and finally she just squealed.

We saw a giant Winnie-the-Pooh, holding his blue balloon, rising up higher and higher, until he reached out an arm and grabbed some honey (a trailing cluster of yellow lights) out of the top of a tall pine tree. We saw Santa in an airplane taking off and landing on a lighted runway; the airplane was created from parts of an irrigation sprinkler, and the pivot swung the plane around, raising and lowering it.

But the most interesting part by far were the animals in the manger scene--real, live llamas! There was a big white one, and next to her, a little snow-white baby. Oh, wasn’t he cute!!! I want a baby llama.

He chewed his cud just like the big ones (there were several others); and, after our driving by wakened him, he got up and had a little midnight snack from his mother, then lay back down in his funny gangly way--down onto the front knees with a lurch, bottom up, then down in the rear with a plop and a grunt, then, finally, extending his neck even farther forward than it already was, he collapsed down onto his stomach in a llama’s inimitably awkward technique.

Victoria laughed and laughed. “Dog-dog!” she exclaimed, “Dog-dog!”

The baby llama (are they called calves? fawns? colts? cubs? pups? kits? llamettes?), having had his sleep disturbed, yawned and yawned and yawned, his little white chin going off all cock-eyed, and his fat little pink tongue arching up and out in the most comical fashion.

Tuesday, although the skies were blue and sunny, they say a storm front came through, and the winds gusted up to 55 mph. The wind even had a name: “The Alberta Clipper”.

On New Year’s Day we had our usual get-together with some close friends and their family. We’d been bequeathed with a couple of large bins of carrots, so the meal we fixed was heavy on the carrots--scalloped carrot/ham casserole, pineapple/carrot bread, and carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. We also had turkey, done with the convection-roast setting on my new oven, which seals the juices into the meat; jello/fruit salad with graham cracker crumbs and sour cream/cream cheese/whipped cream; and ice cream to go with the cake.

Afterwards, we used up some of the excess calories by playing ping pong.

One day I discovered my mother hadn’t mailed her Christmas cards yet, because she’d wanted to write a note in each of the them, but hadn’t managed to get it accomplished. Sometimes her handwriting is shakier than at other times, especially if she’s trying to hurry; and she doesn’t like to write then. Anyway, she was feeling rather badly that her cards were late, but, as usual, she didn’t want to put anybody to the bother of doing them for her.

But I sent Dorcas over posthaste to retrieve those cards, saying we wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I quickly typed up a suitable note, read it to her over the phone; then, after getting her approval, I played it out into each of her cards and took them straight off to the post office. She was so pleased with the little note, and the ease of doing it on the word processor, that she lost her reluctance to ask for anything, and thought of one more person to whom she wanted to send a card, the next day! I’m always glad when my mother feels free to ask us for something; all her life, she’s been the sort who was always doing for others; it’s about time a person like that had the favor returned, don’t you think?

On New Year’s Eve, we forgot to listen to the countdown in Time’s Square, New York City, at 11:00 P.M., as we customarily do; and we forgot to listen to the countdown in Omaha at midnight, as we commonly do; so we wound up listening to the countdown in Denver at 1:00 a.m. And I forgot to play Auld Lang Syne until it was too late--Victoria was already in bed. Oh, well; the New Year will progress on, regardless.

Larry spent most of January 1st working on the six-door crewcab. I haven’t seen it lately, so I don’t know just what’s done and what isn’t.

One day my brother-in-law noticed some coats on sale at Country General. Knowing Teddy needed one, he called for Teddy to come over, whereupon he took him off to Country General and got him a warm, down-filled Canyon Guide Outfitters coat. Now we need to get Joseph one; I was hoping we could find a nice one at the Goodwill.

My mother gave the children a levitron for Christmas. It’s a magnetic spinning top, on which you put different little weights, and which spins on top of a strong magnet which is under a glass plate. When the top is spinning well, you lift the glass plate carefully, until the top gently lifts off and commences to spinning in midair. It’ll spin indefinitely, if the weights are just right, and the spin isn’t wobbly. Teddy can get it going just about perfectly.

Teddy and Joseph have been working diligently on the velvet posters we gave them for Christmas. Teddy’s picture has wolves and deer and salmon and a bald eagle in front of mountains and a stream; Joseph’s is of Sharpei puppies tussling with shoes, a ball, and a colorful blanket. They ‘paint’ them with markers. Only four came with the posters, so we bought them each a 24-piece set of Kodak markers, too. Teddy was the one who liked it the most; but, as soon as he finished his and Joseph saw how beautifully it turned out, Joseph got in gear and really went to ‘markering’ (Caleb’s word).

We were afraid that, because Michigan, who was #1 in all the polls, won their Thursday game with Washington State, we, voted only #2, wouldn’t stand a chance of being National Champions, regardless of whether or not we won our game with Tennessee, ranked #3. Friday evening we played in the Orange Bowl. And we won!--42-17, a fitting ending to Coach Tom Osborn’s career. But we still thought we were only rated #2. So it’s no small wonder that men are driven so to distraction that they rob banks and hold women and small children hostage. What else would you expect?

But we learned on Saturday that the National Championship award had been split -- and we’re #1, too, the same as Michigan! That’s because the coaches voted us #1, but the Associated Press, prejudiced liberals that they are, voted Michigan #1. But, really, the stupid rules need to be changed (they will be, after next year) so we can play Michigan, which would determine who the #1 team really is.

The day before we opened our presents, Caleb discovered a newly-wrapped present, a big one, addressed to him, under the tree. He studied the tag.

“Hey!” he said in excitement, “It’s to me!” He frowned. “What else does it say?” he asked. “I can’t read it if there are too many words,” he explained.

Teddy read it to him. “It says, ‘To Caleb, from Daddy, Mama, and kids.”

“Oh,” responded Caleb.

He wandered away, and was heard commenting quietly to himself, “I have a present from Daddy, Mama, and some little baby goats.”

Guess what Caleb’s favorite present is. It’s the fire truck he got for his third birthday, which was unearthed recently by our cleaning spree, and which I lately put new batteries in, after which I recalled the horrendous racket the dumb thing makes.

Friday evening the young people took down the decorations at church. Earlier in the afternoon, we took down our tree and lights and moved the furniture back where it belonged, including the bump-your-shins chair in its strange bearing in the hallway. Once more, the hallway was clear. Caleb gladly roared its length with his prize fire truck.

“I’m always really glad when we take the Christmas tree down!” he announced.

(Of course, he said the same thing about putting the Christmas tree up.)

Victoria is starting to pull herself up, usually with something too unstable to support her. Several of us run like madmen to either catch her or grab hold of the wobbly whatever-it-is before baby and object both tumble to the turf. The wonder is that we don’t have terrible collisions with each other, en route. What I’ve always wondered, is this: how do mothers of crawlers and toddlers gain weight?

Yesterday, Larry was making his famous French toast, which is one of our Sunday delicacies.

Caleb declared, “I want some French. . .French. . .French toast!”

Quicker’n a wink, Hester retorted, “We don’t have any.”

Caleb’s eyebrows flew up.

Teddy, then, by way of explanation, deadpanned, “They’re not that French.”

I’ve just finished the month-end bookwork, which took hours and hours. Next month it will be time to do not only the monthly bookwork, but also the yearend bookwork.

Today we went to see Dr. Luckey because Joseph had a strange mole under and behind his ear. During the last week, it had grown; and Saturday night he bumped it, and it would hardly stop bleeding. It was the kind of mole one needs to do something about, in my opinion; and the doctor agreed with me.

He removed it.

Also, we got some medicine for Joseph’s cold, which has hung on for altogetherly too long; and something else for Joseph’s headaches, which are probably migraine. If the medicine works, they are. If the medicine doesn’t work, they aren’t.

Victoria had her ears checked, too; she’d been acting like they hurt. Sure enough, they were slightly inflamed; so Dr. Luckey gave us medicine for her, too. He gives us medicine from his store there at the clinic, and he doesn’t charge us a thing! He said there is a fund for medications for families without insurance, and he’d just as soon we got the benefit from it, as anyone. Isn’t that nice of him?

Our friends with the little two-year-old, Mary Clarice, who has scoliosis, must have surgery again. They are taking her to a big hospital in Minneapolis, where doctors, in a five- to six-hour procedure, will remove a rib, then fuse it to a part of her back. They say, in a child so small, the rib will grow back. The doctors told the family that if they didn’t do something about the child’s back, she wouldn’t live beyond the age of thirteen or so.

This little girl, who is a dear little sweetheart, will be in a body cast for four to six months, and then in what’s called a ‘Milwaukee brace’ for the rest of her growing years. That sounds like an awfully long time, to all of us.

Mary Clarice is named Mary after her late grandmother, and Clarice after her late great-grandmother. Hannah is crocheting a ruffly little dress for a doll for Mary Clarice, and a small blanket to go with it. Poor little thing; we feel so sorry for her, and for her parents, too.

Saturday night, I went off to the church to practice a song I was going to sing Sunday evening. Arriving back home again, I walked into the music room, where Hannah was seated at the piano, holding Victoria. The baby looked up and saw me.

“Hi, there, baby!” I said.

She looked at me, straight-faced, gazed around the room. Brightening, she turned back to me, grinned widely, and answered exuberantly, “Hi, there, Mama!”
* * *
Well, it is now 2:00 a.m., and Joseph is sitting in the recliner chair, pressing a piece of gauze on that spot where the mole was removed. It started bleeding again, and I was afraid we would have to make a trip to the hospital to get it stopped. But I think maybe he’ll be all right after all.
You know, having nine children has this problem: there are more things to worry about. But the truth is, the joys outweigh the problems. So I’m not prepared to trade any of ’em in yet.

* * *
It is now 3:15 A.M., and Joseph is asleep on the couch in the living room. I didn’t want him all the way downstairs in the top bunk in his room, just in case that mole--or what’s left of it--started bleeding again. It’s okay now, but I told him to plan to stay home from school tomorrow; I think that would be the wisest course of action.

Joseph has this distinction: he’s always been my oldest baby. . .you see, he made it all the way to the grand old age of four years, one and a half months, before having a younger sibling.
And, well, that makes him special, don’t you know? (’Course, they’re all special--for one reason or a-tuther.)