Sacrebleu!

My family is Southern with a twinge of Yankee influence.  I am proudly a second generation Florida Native, and my mothers family is all "Georgia Crackers".  I guess that makes me a "Florida Cracker".  LOL  My hubby is a Native too, and so, like most dyed-in-the-wool Southerners, we eat "down home cookin'".  The Yankee influence would be from my father, who was from up North, and as a young man in the military was stationed here... where he met mom.  My joke is that Daddy is a born Yankee.. but he got here as fast as he could.  :)   Daddy did bring with him, his taste for Pennsylvania Dutch food.. and he has passed some of those Yankee tastebuds on to my sisters and I.  Now we are passing them on to our kids... as evidenced by the block of frozen scrapple in my freezer.  

Bearing this in mind, it came as rather a surprise to me when my youngest child Robyn became interested in all things French.  I have no clue where this came from.  The child reads a great deal, and more likely than not she read about France, and became enamored from there, chattering to me about the glories of Paris any time she could.  


The movie Ratatouille came out.   


She has been a "foodie" since she could talk, and has told me since she was three years old that she wanted to be a chef.  So this movie comes out, and she watches it.  Religiously.  She begs me to watch.  I refuse, as the mere thought of a rat... even a cartoon one... cooking in the kitchen causes the bile to rise in my throat.  My dear husband who is often the "fun" parent bought the movie, and after months of nagging, I finally caved and watched it, simply to get her off my back.  Hmm.  Not as bad as I though.  Quite cute, actually.  Though I am still grossed out by the thought of a rat in the kitchen.  

I love Meryl Streep, and I love Julia Child.  Hence, when the movie Julie & Julia came out, I was hot to go see it.   Ever wanting to please us, hubby bought the movie.  I've watched it not less than seven times.  Maybe more.  I bought the book, and even bought Julia's, My Life In France.   Of course I already had Mastering the Art of French Cooking (volume 1), as well as "Baking With Julia".  But, I think a good many of us who enjoy cooking probably have those books.. along with The Joy of Cooking... which, I may add, was my very first cookbook.  I got it when I was 19, newly married, and no idea how to cook.   I read 'The Joy of Cooking' like a paper back novel, following it blow by blow as I slowly learned how to prepare a meal that didn't make you want to regurgitate.   I digress.  

So, here I am, dusting off my old Julia Child cookbooks.  Vowing I would actually crack them open.  Nope.  I didn't.  "Who needs all that butter?"  I'd ask myself.   EVOO (extra virgin olive oil for you non-foodies) is better.  Isn't it?  I didn't open the cookbooks.  There they sat.  Like the good china that doesn't get used.

My daughters birthdays are four days apart.  (No, we didn't plan this. LOL)  So since they're older now, we offered to take them out for a nice diner for their birthday.  I ask my eldest where she wants to go.  "I don't care."  Fine.  I ask my nearly 11 year old foodie where.  She lights up, and declares she would like to dine at the French Bistro in St Augustine, and she wanted escargot.  

Are you kidding me?

I google it, and I read the reviews, and evidently it's supposed to be "like stepping into Paris", and that the food was truly, truly French.  Wow.  Okay.  Umm.. sure.  I noticed that escargot is only served at dinner and not lunch, so I made reservations for the Saturday evening before their birthdays.  I have my mind up I am NOT eating a snail.  Forget it.  It ain't happenin'.

My Stars.  Such a lovely little bistro.  Fresh, crusty baguettes and "fancy" French cheeses, a lovely soup that was compliments of the Chef, and.. the much anticipated escargot.

The smell was intoxicating.  Buttery, garlicy, Heaven.  My vow to never try them was gone, and I ate two of the divine morsels.  There is nothing more delicate and delicious to be found.  My Stars and Garters, pick me up off the floor!!  Lamb and Ratatouille followed.  Every bite had us wanting to roll into the floor.   Our taste buds had died and went to Heaven.  We devoured every bite.  Dessert was fresh berry tarts for myself, hubby, and eldest, while my pint sized foodie went for the fresh-from-the-oven chocolate lava cake.  

When the meal was over, I looked at hubby.  "My Lord. NOW I know why the French all smoke.  After a meal like that, ya need a cigarette!"  Mark cracked up and agreed.   We waddled home, bellies full of fine French food.

The following day, as we mothers all have to do, was to prepare our meals.  
Nothing.. I mean NOTHING appealed to me.  How the Sam Hill do you eat something that blows your taste buds away, and then go back to eating the same boring stuff?   I cut a piece of yellow American cheese, and bit into it.  Ugh.  It tasted almost oily.  How had I always eaten it before?  I told my hubby, "It's NOT delicious."  It wasn't.  And it's not.   I felt spoiled and dissatisfied, which made me feel guilty.  I reminded myself that I was very blessed, and people were starving all over the world, and I should be ashamed of myself.   

The next day I took out hamburger from the freezer.  I got out 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking', and thumbed through, wondering to myself if Julia Child ever made anything with hamburger.  Much to my surprise, she did!  Who knew there were French hamburgers?  Hot dang!  So, I followed the recipe, and made her steamed buttered rice too.  Result?  Oh. My.  What a heavenly hamburger!  Now THAT was delicious!  Hubby carried his plate that I made him to eat at work, and later, when he got home, asked me just how I'd made it.  He loved it!  


"You know," he says, "you ought to do what Julie (Powell) did.  Go through the book in a year."  He grinned.  Oh Lord, the man is serious.  I considered it.  I sat down after dinner and looked through the cookbook.  I mean REALLY looked.  Oh dear God.. she cooked and ate BRAINS.  I am NOT eating brains.  You can forget it.  I may be a "hick", but brains and tongues and kidneys are not touching these lips.  So I told him I'd cook some of it, but some of it would not be made.  Too bad.  LOL   He counters with, "That's what you said about the snails."   


Dang it.

I am not going to do what Julie Powell did.. cooking her way through an entire, thick-butt cook book in a year, and then blogging about it. As I told my eldest today, NOBODY needs that much butter!  She laughed, and said, "Sure we do!"   Well guess what?  I will make Julia's recipes, and we'll enjoy them.  But not every day.  Lord no.  We are still eating "Southern home cookin' with our bit of Yankee influence."  :)   But after making Julia's Ground Beef with Onions & Herbs (p. 301) and steamed buttered rice (p. 530) yesterday, followed by to-days dinner, Chicken Breasts Saute'ed in Butter (p. 270) today, I have to say I have already learned a better way... more delicious way to cook.  Julia Child knew what GOOD was!  Yes, I will cook her recipes.  Not all of them.  And not in a year.  But I am happy to learn a new and better way to make things.  And incorporate what we're already doing, ever in our quest to eat better and healthier.   Butter is better than that fakey gross margarine anyway. :)  I am convinced that some of those margarines are part plastic anyway.  (gags)

Tomorrow I'm going to make tabbouleh.. we've not eaten that in a while.  I'm not aware if Julia ever made it.. it's definitely NOT French, and vegan to boot. :)   In my attempts for my family to eat healthier, and buying the organic stuff and shopping a little here and there at the hippie store..  well, I feel that Julia's recipes are NOT, in fact, the opposite of that.  Julia believed in using fresh ingredients.  Non processed.  She liked "real" food.  She didn't like the silly food fads.  I have thusly dubbed my "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" as "The Butter Bible".  LOL  I can pick and choose.  We all can. :)

Miami, Bono, Ducks, & French Fries

My third date with Bono was June 29, 2011.  LOL  Okay, so not really.  It was, however, my third U2 concert, and first one for me in Miami.  Second U2 show for my husband and daughters.  I could tell you about how awesome the show was, but honestly there are no words to describe it.  U2 puts on the best show, and currently have the biggest stage in the world.   It looks like a giant claw... Bono calls it a spaceship... and yes.. you find yourself elevated...  it's a soul touching, mind-blowing experience.  I still can't get through the show without sobbing like a silly school girl. *blush* All the band is amazing, and Bono knows just how to pull the fans "in" to make it feel intimate.  They are famous for a reason.  They are the best at what they do. :)   I can hardly wait til next tour! :)

At any rate, we went down to Miami Lakes, Florida a day early.   The drive only took five hours, and I am proud to say that I drove most of it myself.   As a Florida native, I am used the lush green of Florida.  In North Florida where we live, it's green and sub-tropical but with a lot of the "woodsiness" of Georgia.  Miami, however, was even more beautiful.  Always I've heard what a terrible city, making it sound like hell on earth.  That is not what I found.

Miami is like North Florida, only less of the "woodsy" and more of the "tropical".   Yes, it was just as muggy and hot as the rest of the state, but with the differences I noticed, I overlooked the heat.  During our four day stay, I encountered other U2 fans, literally from all over the world.  Funny, we fans can always find each other.  Most of the fans wear a U2 tee shirt the duration of their stay... my U2 Sister Angela has an assortment of U2 shirts she wears.  I don't *yet* own a U2 tee shirt, but I have (now) a U2 hat, and a lanyard my teenage daughter made me, that has made quite a few people, (for the last two shows), stop me and ask how I got "that backstage pass!"  LOL Oh wow.... I WISH!!! :)

Our U2 base camp, (haha), hotel we stayed at was owned and operated by a Cuban family.  They were so NICE and friendly and courteous!   All the staff was great.  We ate at a Cuban restaurant the day of the concert.  We couldn't read the Spanish menu.  My lovely friend Angela taught me how to order french fries (papas fritas), in Spanish, and helped us order lunch. ;)   Her Spanish isn't perfect either, LOL, so our friendly Cuban server went to find someone bi-lingual in the kitchen to translate. :)   We did get our orders, and I have sworn to myself that I will learn more Spanish before the next time we go to Miami.  We can't just live off of papas fritas.  :)

One thing I noticed in Miami is at many intersections, there is someone selling fresh flowers.   We don't have that here, and I thought it was funny and sort of charming.  Another funny thing I noticed was the ducks!  At the two restaurants we went to, there were ducks waddling by outside. :)

I loved Miami.  Yes, we saw BAD sections, (from the expressway) that we vowed to never go in.. (READ:  DO NOT ever go to Miami Gardens!)  But mostly, the city was beautiful and welcoming and a joy to visit.  U2 show or not, I loved our stay in Miami.  I was surprised as we were leaving, as I'd found I was a little sad to go.    

The name "Miami" means "big lakes".  I considered this as we were leaving, and then how "Miami" sounds similar to "mon ami".   Perfect.  Goodbye for now, mon ami Miami.  Can't wait to visit you again.  Besides, I'm always ready for another date with Bono! :)


ETA:  Interesting note: Bono is the only person who has been nominated for an Oscar, Grammy, Golden Globe, and three times for a Nobel Prize.

Pride, Veils, and Vindication

A few years ago, I bought  myself and my daughters  chapel veils to wear to mass.    I noticed the only ones  wearing them were the old  Italian ladies who sat on  the front pew.  I was in  the back pew with a 9 yr  old and a legally blind,  autistic toddler.   I  watched the ladies.  They  seemed very holy to me.   Their reverence.  Their  piety.  Their unquestionable faith that had them there  every single mass, rain or shine,  no matter what.  The clinking  of their rosary beads.  I was  humbled. I watched EWTN.    I saw  ladies walking in to mass  wearing veils.  I noticed  some were long black ones,  like the ladies I had seen.   Some though, had these  cute round ones... sort of  like doilies, atop their  heads.  Like a more modern  take on a veil.  "Now, I  could do that.." I privately  mused, and thusly ordered  myself a "doily" one, a  longer, more traditional one  for my eldest daughter  who didn't want to wear  "a doily".  I even bought  a triangle shape "baby" one  with ties on the ends for  my toddler.   We donned  our veils, and went to  mass, heads held high. The little old Italian ladies  weren't there.   Did they  switch parishes when I  wasn't looking?  Were they  attending that super-early  mass I couldn't get to,  (because I'm too lazy to  get up that early)?   Regardless, they weren't  there.  And we got stares.   Not so much the kids.  But  I did.  I felt silly, awkward,  and out of place.  This felt  like the equivalent of having  the back of your dress  tucked into your panty hose.    We never wore them again. A few years later, we started attending a more traditional parish.  Veils were worn more, true, but  still not a huge amount of ladies wore them.  And not just the "old" ladies either.  Women younger than me were wearing them.   But still, I heard a few snide comments made by a remote few non-veil wearers behind their hands.   I considered mine at home.  I'd bought a few more  here and there, but the veils were doomed to sit  unused in my drawer as I was too embarrassed to  try wearing them again.  And I didn't want to be  the topic of conversation if I did wear them.    Time passed. About two years ago, I slowly started feeling led to  start dressing more modestly.  Not that I was  dressing "trampy", but suddenly I was more aware  of my skin being "exposed" (or my daughters) and  what was that saying about my family's reverence?   Yes, yes, I know God loves us even in rags and  smelly.   It's not a fashion show and I get that.    That's not where my thought process was.   My  thoughts were that I AM IN GODS HOUSE and I  need to show reverence and respect.   Not that I  wasn't before.. I was... but suddenly I felt exposed  if the sleeves of my blouse were too short.  I wanted my skirts longer, my shoes closed toed.  I started  taking a wrap with me to mass, so I knew in my  heart I was modest and covered and my arms not all sticking out.   The time or two I forgot my wrap, I  felt indecent and exposed... not a good feeling to  have. Fast forward to early 2011.  Lent was coming.  As a Catholic (I think we all do this), I wanted to use the Lenten Season to grow in my faith, pray more, attend mass more, and over all be a better Catholic.    I was listening to one of priests one day, and he said that we need to make ourselves "smaller" and "less" to make God "bigger" and "more".   Less of "me" and more of "Him".   My life is what He has blessed me with.  And it's His to take away, add to, and so forth as He sees  fit.  I am His.  And with that, I realized my sin of  Pride.   Yes.  Pride.  I got up every morning before going to mass and would wash and dry, mousse, curl, tease,  and spray my hair before mass.   If I'm not going  off anywhere, I don't even do that for my own  husband.  I only get up, shower, let my hair dry naturally, pull it back in a ponytail and put on a  house dress.   God didn't care what my hair looked  like.  He cares what my heart and soul "look" like!!    I considered the humility of Our Lady.  I considered  the humility of the nuns I've seen.  The humility of those old Italian ladies I'd seen before.   That's when  it dawned on me... their humbleness and humility...  that was something I wanted.   So, I decided, that was going to be my goal for Lent.   For forty days of Lent, every time I went to mass  I put on a black veil.  Long enough I could tie it up under my hair so it wasn't hanging down.  It felt  weird and awkward.   I got stared at.  I felt like a  fool.  Comments were made.   "Oh, I guess now you don't have to do your hair any more."  (Said in a condescending way) "I thought about doing that once, but I realized I didn't 'have' to." "Only grandmothers wear those!" "Father such-n-such said we didn't 'have' to do that.." But, Lent was forty days long.  This wasn't about me.  This was about making 'me' "less" and God 'more'.  This was about letting go of pride.   About showing humility before God.   Not just about  wearing a veil in mass, but wearing a veil on my  heart.  I bought the books, "Holiness for  Housewives" and "Apostolate of Holy Motherhood".   Women's libbers would have had a cow.  I didn't  care, and DON'T care.  I've never been for that gobbledygook anyway! I decided, well, if at the end of Lent I am still  feeling silly and embarrassed, I'll stop.  And if  anyone asks I'll just say I was doing it for Lent.    Good plan, right?   Lent ended.  It's July.. I'm still wearing veils.   The remote few people who made "meow, meow"  little comments stopped with their commenting.   (thank goodness).   And I am still wearing a veil  every time I go to mass.  (ETA:  As of 7/21/2013  I am still veiling, and plan to veil the rest of my  life). Finally, today, my girls and I attended the "daily"  mass at noon.    We walked down to the front pew  (our normal place) and as always it was beautiful and then when mass was over... I had a surprise.  A lady walks up to me, and says, "What a beautiful veil  you're wearing!   Where did you get it from?"   I thanked her, and told her where I'd ordered it.   (it's the handmade black lace doily looking one)   I briefly told her of how I'd started wearing them.  She was smiling and nodding... and says that she "had"  to wear them when she was young, and would like to start wearing one again but didn't want a long one.   She loved the style of mine. :)  She was encouraged  to get one.  Vindicated at last!!!    I admitted to this lady that it had been a source of  pride for me.  That I had basically "made" myself  wear them during Lent.  But I'd actually learned  things BY wearing them.  No, I don't have to make  such a fuss putting a lot of product in my hair to look "good" for "other people".  Mass isn't a fashion show.  Wearing a veil taught me to quit fussing over "looks"  so much.  (so vain!)  Also, (and I can't believe I'm admitting this), but I am SO DISTRACTED during mass...   I sit in the front row for two  reasons... one... so my visually impaired child can  SEE what's going on... and so I am not distracted  by kids kicking the pew in front of them and so forth and so on.  I can tune it all out better if it's going on behind me.  The veil helps more than you think, too.  When it's hanging down on the sides, it's sort of  like "blinders"... which is good.  Helps me keep  my eyes on Jesus. :) Some people don't like veils.  Some do.  I saw a  recent poll, and it seems that most people do wish  that women would start wearing them again,  but  most are unwilling to 'start' it at their own parish.  I totally get that.  It's nerve-wracking when you feel  like the lone weirdo. :)    There are other ladies at  our parish wearing them, so it made it a little easier.   Though sometimes at the noon weekday mass I am  the ONLY one wearing one.  But I'm past that.  I  don't care now if someone thinks it's odd.  *laughs*  I'm certainly not looking funny at you because  you're 'not'. :) Veiling (for me) is a personal thing.  Something I do  not for 'me', but for Him.     It does help that I'm not getting weird looks any  more. :)  LOL P.S.  I invite you all to read my friend Sue's blog  entry, "Pondering"...  it goes very much with this topic. http://www.sueelviswrites.com/2011/07/pondering.html ETA:  I've been asked where I get my veils... so  here you go. :)   Checkout:   http://www.modestyveils.com/  and also http://www.headcoverings-by-devorah.com/

BFF's, Acceptance, Faith, and Catholic Bashers

Warning:  I am blogging (complaining) this particular entry... quite honestly because I don't have a "BFF" to call up and whine to.  Blogging is a good outlet for me...  I can get things off my chest, talk about things, and if someone is interested (or bored) they can read... and if they don't care to read, that's fine too, and I've not wasted their time.  

Okay.  Now that I've got my defensiveness out of the way...  let me just say how angry Catholic bashers make me!!   An acquaintance posted wanting 2 main differences between Catholic and Protestants.  I posted that we Catholics love and respect Mary and do not "worship" her as many think that we do, and that she is blessed and chosen among women.. she gave birth to Him, and loved Him and nursed Him.  So she deserves our love and respect.   As a convert, I know first hand that most Protestants virtually ignore Mary unless it's Christmas time for some inane reason.   The other difference I listed is that Jesus founded the Catholic Church Himself, and St Peter was our first Pope.   Protestants came about when some didn't like how things were run and so they "protested" (which is where Protestant comes from) and they wanted to do things their own way.   They don't agree with each other either, that's why there are so many different denominations of protestant out there.   When Protestants left the Catholic Church, they took the bible with them that we ALL used, and took out the parts they didn't want.  And that's why the Catholic bible has more books in it.  It's not that we have extra... the Protestants just don't have them all.   Look, I was raised Southern Baptist.  It was not something I "got" overnight.  I was freaked out by the extra books.   I was freaked out by Mary and Saints and rosaries and everything else.  But I learned, and I understood.  When you learn the history, then you KNOW.  You can't help but know.   This is not me being critical of Protestants.  There are some fine protestant churches out there and some very wonderful Christians out there who love God with all their hearts and have beautiful prayer lives.  I don't deny that.  But for pity's sake.  The question was, "what are two differences?".  Yes, there are many more, more that I could have chosen to name.  But I chose those two.   And what do you think the response was?   BURN THE CATHOLIC!!

Well, not in those exact words.  But I got chewed out, and ripped to shreds.  How Dare Me!!   One thing that seriously irks me, is that everyone is so hell bent on "open-mindedness" and being "accepting" and "tolerant".  What a load!!  What that spells out to me is that I am supposed to be "tolerant" of whatever horse-noise they want to come up with, and I'm supposed to smile and say "that's nice".  AS LONG AS I AM NOT TOO CATHOLIC About it!! 

So here's a newsflash.  I am a Catholic.  A hard-core, dyed in the wool, Pro-Life, faithful to the Magisterium, kneeling, rosary praying, holy card carrying Catholic!!   I may not be the best Catholic.  I may be sinful and not the brightest crayon in the coloring box sometimes.  I may not be very good at Apologetics.  I may not know all the answers and facts.  But I do have one thing... I have FAITH!!    

Oh.... wait.  I do have a BFF.  His name is Jesus. :)

My Catholic Arsenal

My Catholic Arsenal I am blogging about this, (and I don't know how long it's going to be), for a friend of mine who shall remain anonymous in this blog for her privacy.   She is a recent convert, and with very deep faith.  God has His hand on her.  What she has discovered, as I did since I'm also a convert, is NO ONE learns everything in RCIA.  Well.  Maybe if Padre Pio taught your RCIA.   Haha.. but for most of us, it seems, as thorough as they try to be, there is so much information they cannot possibly cover everything.  So they teach the "meat" of it, (sorry to my vegetarian/vegan friends), because as we all know, you have to learn to crawl before you can walk. I attended RCIA when I was in my early twenties.  I did learn a lot from Father who taught the class.  But even as holy, kind, and deeply committed as he was, a lot of things I didn't learn.  So, (drum roll please), this is my little "101" on what I have and what I do and why.  Just things I have learned that I 'didn't' learn in RCIA.  This is all for my dear friend, but anyone who can glean from it, or heck, add to it, please feel free to be my guest. :) Number one, I believe a Catholic needs a bible, a copy of the Catechism, and a rosary.  When I went through RCIA, we were recommended to the The New American Bible, but I noticed that Father used and preferred for himself The New Jerusalem Bible.   So that's what I have.  Okay, well, actually I have both.  But the New Jerusalem is my favorite.    Any Catholic bible will do.  If in doubt, do an internet search, or talk with your priest and find out what he recommends.    Next on the list is a good copy of The Catechism of the Catholic Church.  You can get it in hard back or paper back.  Until you get one, you can find it online at http://www.scborromeo.org/ccc.htm, and I'd bet the family farm they have apps you can get on your phone.   So, why do you need a Catechism?  Because it's a basic "rule book", so to speak.  Any question you have can be looked up and answered.  You can see what the Church's stance is on anything.   Not to mention, it helps you learn your faith.  I cannot recommend it enough.   Some of them can be pricey.  I bought mine at a thrift store.   Look around.  You'll find them.      Lastly, but most certainly not least, a rosary.  Make sure, please, that it's a Catholic rosary, with 60 beads.  Please get it blessed.  Any priest will be happy to bless your rosary, or anything else, if you ask him. Other things:  I have in my home a "pie safe" cabinet, which is basically a table that opens up like a cupboard in the front with shelves inside.   You can start small... such as a paper holy picture and a small candle.  I put mine on my pie safe table, and thus started my little table shrine.  My little place to keep holy things.   I've added to it... I bought a table top crucifix, (which I had blessed) a couple of very small "dollar store" statues, (figurines, really, also I got blessed), and put them on top with a candle holder.  Inside I keep my stuff.  Candles, candle holders, blessed salt, holy water, blessed oil, and more.  When I buy a box of salt, a box of tea lite candles (or votives), I take it in and ask the priest to bless it for me.  If the smoke of a candle is carrying my prayers to Heaven, I'd prefer that the candle be blessed.  Also, since the Church has a yearly Candle-mas service to bless all candles, I can't possibly be the only nut who does this.  Hahaha.   So I know that any time I light a candle in prayer, I'm doing so on a blessed candle.   I also buy the candles from church...  They're $3 each, and so I can buy 3 or 4 and they last a while.  And.. I get them blessed.  In our parish bookstore are the glass candle holders identical to the ones they use on the Church alter.  This is important!   A lot of candle holders, YES, even "safe" ones that you buy from the store, will sometimes burst.   Church candle holders are specially made for candles to burn for hours at a time.   They certainly aren't going to risk burning down the Church, so I feel quite safe using those same candle holders in my home.   Bear in mind, it *is* a candle, and accidents do happen.  So please use safety precautions as you would with any other candle.   WHILE I'm on the subject of candles... do NOT buy those crazy grocery store candles with the Saints on them.  Apparently a good many of them are used in Santeria which is voodoo and a lot of their candles look like ours.  It's hard to tell the difference sometimes, so my best advice is DON'T RISK IT and just get the ones from Church.. you know they're not going to sell you anything crazy.   Better safe than sorry.     I have been told by different folks that you ought to have, (and no, I don't yet but I plan to), two pure beeswax candles (blessed) for emergencies.  Keep them in a brown paper bag in the refrigerator and have them literally for emergencies.   I admit readily I am a little uneducated on this, and so perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it.  But, it was mentioned to me, and so I'm just sharing the info.  Once again, I say, better safe than sorry.  Sometimes all the details don't really matter when good old fashioned faith is more than enough. :) Blessed salt.  You can buy any box of regular table salt from the grocery.  Take it, still sealed, to your priest.  He will bless it as usual, but then he will open up your salt and pray the exorcism prayer over it.   He will sprinkle a little out and make the Sign of the Cross.  Then you have yourself a nice box full of blessed salt.   I will tell you now.. go ahead and take 2 or 3 boxes or salt....  Father will NOT think you're nuts.  And that way you only have to bug him once, and you have enough blessed salt to last a pretty long time.   So, what do you do with blessed salt?  Well, it's a sacramental.   Walk the perimeter of your property, pray for protection for your home and sprinkle a little as you walk and pray.  Walk through your home and pray protection for your home, sprinkling the blessed salt across thresholds... and anywhere you think you'd benefit.  It's not a 'good luck charm'.  It's a sacramental and a matter of faith.   You can sprinkle a few grains in your car, add a pinch to the pot when you're cooking supper, toss a small pinch in front of an abortion clinic as you pass by, and the list goes on.    I do not put it into a salt shaker, but I will not hesitate to add a pinch to a pot of soup, (NOT for seasoning.. for blessing!) and if you can manage it, add a pinch especially to the food of a person who is (such as an ornery teenager), in need of a blessing! :) Holy Water and Blessed Oil.  Okay.  You can take any bottle with a tight fitting lid and use it to store holy water.  Take your clean, empty bottle to the Church and ask where you may fill your bottle.  I have a few plastic holy water bottles I've bought at our parish bookstore, and I keep them filled.  I usually fill a couple of small bottles, that way I always have a full one when one gets empty.    So, what do I do with holy water?  Bless yourself.   Get a holy water font and put it by your front door, and bless yourself every time you go to walk out that door.   And bless yourself again when you come in..  your home is the Domestic Church.  We need all the protection we can get!  Bless yourself, bless your children, bless your dog.   When nerves are frazzled or there's been arguing, spritz holy water into the air.  Cleanse your home.  I've been known to add a drop or two to a a pitcher of iced tea or Crystal Light... an added blessing!!  If you are ill, you can take a tiny sip of the holy water too. Blessed oil.   When you're at the store buying your salt, pick up a bottle of 100% pure olive oil.  (I buy extra Virgin), and have it blessed too.  Use it like you would holy water.  Use it to bless your loved ones, and to bless yourself.  You can also use a small amount on a wound, and it will help heal it.  Yes I've done this, and YES it did work!!   Okay folks, it's late.  I will do a "part 2" on this later. :)   Good night and God Bless!!  +JMJ+

Happy Birthday Granny!!

Happy Birthday to my Granny....

I've not blogged in a week, and irked at myself.. I had things I wanted to blog on, and took pictures and everything.  But life gets in the way, and I suppose it wasn't really important anyway.

Tomorrow is my dear Granny's 84th birthday.  

Here's Granny with her fifth great-grandchild.. my gorgeous little niece, Rebecca. :)  Isn't she just a doll!?!?

Granny was still young when I was born.  I was her first grandchild.  She was still young enough, she could have had more children still.  But she'd stopped years before, bearing only my mother and my aunt.   Short neat hair she'd put a "rinse" on, and blue eyes that looked at you and meant business.  Smart, quick, matter of fact, trim, neat, tidy, and full of the quintessential Southern pride.  Third eldest of thirteen children, raised in the flat lands of South Georgia.  How Southern?  She did, and to this day pronounces "our" as "a-ver", and "window" as "winder".  :)   Love it.  She is one of the remote few people I've known who has a heavier Southern accent than I do.  *laughs*

She married young, to her sweetheart.   They loved each other, and were happy.  Married over 60 years.   It often struck me, how even after all those years, they still held hands, and my grandpop still thought my granny was the prettiest girl in the room. :)   

She's widowed now.  She's the mother of two.  The grandmother of seven.  And the great grandmother of six.  

Happy Birthday Granny.  I love you!!

Why We Homeschool

Why We Homeschool The background:  My youngest child was born legally blind and with global delays... and some autistic tendencies.   She started receiving OT, PT, Speech, Cognitive, & Vision Services when she was slightly over a year old.  It was all part of "Early Intervention", which was what all families with special needs children were enrolled in, regardless of your income.  In order to continue to receive services, we were obligated to enroll her into the public school system into a special needs "box class" on her third birthday.   Putting my three year old who couldn't even talk yet into a room with strangers was upsetting and scary.  If anyone abused her, or if anyone mistreated her in any way, how could she let me know if she couldn't even talk? Frightening though it was, I did do basically what I was told to do (*miserable sigh*) and put her in the class.   God help me, it was hard.   We were blessed though, with a sweet teacher who genuinely loved the children and was gentle, patient, and kind.   My daughter was in her class for 2 years.  When she was 4 and a half years old, she was finally toilet trained, and could finally talk. (not clearly, but at least she could now communicate).   She "graduated" into the Kindergarten "box" class, and though I wasn't as crazy about the teacher, the assistant was a Godsend and so I knew my baby was safe with her.  :)   At the end of that Kindergarten year, the school board lost funding for the class.   I was told that my daughter would go to the nearby neighborhood school, and she would be mainstreamed.  I knew this was wrong.. but what could I do?   All I heard about was the "No Child Left Behind" program.. well, guess what?  My child was about to get left behind.  And no one cared. She entered the first grade... she could identify a trapezoid, but couldn't say the word...  she had a huge vocabulary that amazed her speech teachers, yet she couldn't even properly pronounce even her own name.   I had this brilliant child, but something was "mis-firing".  I couldn't explain it.  I still can't.   She did well, all in all, that first year.  She learned to read very simple books.  She learned other basic "first grade" lessons.  But she learned slowly... and she couldn't keep up.  When she learned something, she KNEW it, and wouldn't forget any of it, but it took her longer to 'get' things.   The school decided to retain her.   Unsure of what to do, but knowing that it wouldn't be fair to her to pass her... it would put her even more behind, I agreed to her being retained. Her second year of first grade was slightly better.   Each morning they still had to have a fellow classmate walk out to get my daughter.. she would come to the carport where we moms dropped off our children, and I would watch this little girl who was a full year younger than my daughter take her by the hand and patiently lead her to her classroom.   Every day, the same thing.. because my daughter knew what "facetious" meant, but couldn't remember where her class even though she was in the same classroom for two years.   I was delighted at the end of the year when I was told she would be passed to the second grade... but at the same time.... nervous.  How would second grade be?  Work load would be harder, the kids another year older, and already she was getting teased.  "Why are your glasses so thick?"  "What's wrong with you?"  "Why does one of your eyes look funny?"   My daughter already was learning that she wasn't like the other girls, and that was upsetting to her.  It seemed the other kids were advancing.. and she was too... but more slowly.   I talked to the guidance counselor.   And the teachers.  We had numerous conferences, and I was told point blank that "this was not the right setting" for my daughter. Well, duh.  That much I knew.   Everyone agreed, what she needed was plain out, one on one schooling.  Who could provide this?  No one they knew of.  "Maybe a special, private school", they told me.  Riiiiight.  My last name isn't Rockefeller.   She started second grade.  Only a few weeks in, and I could see it happening again already.  She couldn't keep up.  The rest of the class was finished with a lesson and she was still trying to understand what they were doing.   Such a smart, smart girl, but just very slow at "getting it".   She needed more time.  And a mainstream class wasn't getting it.   Her vision teacher contacted me and told me that with her newest updated lenses she now no longer needed vision services.  BUT, her "special needs" teacher that visited her for 15 minutes twice a week knew good and well that she needed large print.  The two teachers ended up in a shouting match... one insisting my daughters work be copied as large print so she could read it, and the other telling him that it wasn't necessary.  God bless that special needs teacher.  He was the best... and he knew what my daughter needed.  But he was being stretched out to cover a LOT of kids, and he just couldn't do and be all that was needed for these kids.  Way to use, and I mean USE a good teacher.   It still makes me mad, even today, how the best teachers out there are the ones that they seem to "stick it to them" the worst.  Its not right.  The good teachers that care deserve better.  And it goes without saying, so do the students.  I digress. My daughter couldn't stay with this great special needs teacher unfortunately.  She was in this mainstream classroom, falling further behind by the day.  It was upsetting, and we felt like we had no options, no choice, and no voice.  We prayed about it.  And then, we made a choice. There was no way I could possibly do a worse job.  I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but surely I can teach my nearest and dearest the basics in elementary education.   I withdrew her from school.  Lord have mercy, I was scared to death.   I half expected the cops to show up and arrest me for being such a bad mother as to not send my daughter to school.  I considered going through the school board for her homeschooling... and decided that NO, I wanted to wash my hands of them, (they'd left a bad taste in my mouth at this point), and my daughter needed the freedom to learn at her own pace, without stress, and develop a love of learning.  I opted for an umbrella school.  Unschoolers, they called it.   I'd never heard this term before.   But, after freaking out, calling and emailing the lady who ran our umbrella school a dozen times, I finally started to relax a little.   My daughter had a little trouble at first, as she is a creature of habit, and she missed her little friends at school and being with the other kids.  She cried at first, and I wondered if I'd made the right choice.   I had joined a homeschool group, (local) prior to withdrawing her from school, (which is how I learned about umbrella schools), and after much thinking and discussion I slowly started buying workbooks, and finally found the Seton curriculum, which is approved by the Catholic church. :)  We use it, and some Catholic Heritage.  I am terrible at math, so through the advice of a friend and fellow homeschooler, we chose Math-U-See for our mathematics.  (And by the way I cannot recommended Math-U-See enough!  It's the best!!) Five months after withdrawing my youngest child from school, I finally withdrew my teenage daughter as well.  She was in middle school, and, without getting into too much here, she was in a bad situation, in over her head, and going downhill fast.  Long story short, I got her out of the hell she was in, and brought her home with us.   Having spent many years in public school, she took close to a year to de-school.  But eventually, she stopped dyeing her hair black, stopped the unhealthy things she was doing, the acting out, and slowly she let her wall down... one small piece of a brick at a time.  Lot of praying for her, lot of worrying, lot of bending the ear of our priest, (Thank you Fr Ed!), but THANK YOU JESUS I got my daughter back!  She is now open, sweet, fun, loves going to mass with us, and oh my goodness she talks to me all the time now!  I got my baby back! When people ask why I homeschool, I try and explain.. but this isn't something I can just put into two sentences.  But I can tell you this... and you can take it to the bank.   My eldest daughter is now happy, healthy, well rounded, smart, and loves life.  I got her back.. and I mean that literally.   My little daughter is learning by leaps and bounds.  In some subjects she is two grades ahead, and in some subjects she is two grades behind.  BUT she is learning every day, and she is learning at her own pace.  And she is HAPPY!!  We don't do tests... we don't do the "FCAT" (Florida's Conspiracy Against Teaching)  (thanks to my friend Angela for that one! Love that! LOL!!)    I don't worry myself with quantity.. I'd rather have quality.   And we have that now.   Do I have any regrets about homeschooling my kids?  Absolutely.  And it's this:  My ONE and ONLY regret, is that I didn't homeschool them from the very beginning.   My girls are precious gifts.. my own beautiful gifts from God.  I love every day with them.   I love that my kids are not having to line up for food, attention, or to use a public toilet..  I love that on cold rainy mornings they can sleep in, and then do math in flannel pajamas while sipping hot cocoa.  I love that my daughters can, anytime they please, go outside and swing under our big tree... or lie back in the grass and photograph the birds and squirrels.   The world is our classroom.  The funniest thing I've personally learned about homeschooling is that you never know what you CAN do! :)   I never thought I'd have the patience to homeschool.  But I can, and I do. :)  And best of all, I am getting time with my children... I'm not missing out anymore.... and in all truthfulness,  a lot of times I am learning right along with them. :)   Homeschooling isn't something you "do".  It's a lifestyle.  And we love it!!