I used to make my boys do work together when they fought. I think yours are still a little young. Mine HATED working on something together.

I had some exciting news last night, too. Yesterday AJ went with one of the guys from church to a meeting in Sacramento. (Can't remember if I mentioned that or not.) He met lots of interesting people while he was there, including an 83yo man who runs 6 miles every day and credits his vegetarian lifestyle with his longevity and vitality. (Don't tell anyone, but that is more vitality than either AJ or I currently possess.)

He also met someone from a church in Vacaville who would like me to come do a program there. Maybe if I get around a little more I can improve from #8?

But what was most exciting was he met one of the important people from another publishing house, who remembered me from St. Louis, though he had never had a chance to read my book. He was very interested in the book about Peter, and gave AJ the contact information for the guys I would need to submit it to. It would be at least several months before I got a decision from them, but I will begin the query process right away.

It would be nice to lay all the responsibility on someone else, even if it took a little longer. Besides, they pay a bigger advance than R&H, though the overall rate is the same.

The Princess runs her stomach by the clock, and she has just indignantly informed me that it is several minutes past 12, and lunch is not ready. I guess it's time to go cook something. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

Very good idea about working together. I'll have to watch carefully or it will be just more of the same, but they obviously have excess energy that needs to be expended somehow, so I might as well benifit from it.

I laughed, and laughed when I read about the kids. It brings back so many memories - funny now, but a pain then.

I don't meant to make light of how it is. It takes so much energy to teach children. Or to endure their upbringing.

I hate to tell you it's often worse in their teen years, but if you can refrain from killing them, grand kids are a great reward for patience.

My children get along well now. Two years ago was the first Christmas as married couples for three of ours, and they asked if they could come home and sleep and spend Christmas morning with us. They all live within a mile of us, so we thought it an unusual request. They told us that they wanted their partners to feel the Christmas spirit that they had known growing up. We had a wondeful experiance, family gatherings are always special times. I know your mom teases you, but it's worth it.

Believer, on that funeral thread, I wrote what I felt. You should always do what you think is best. That's the way it works.

Good Morning T&L, you sleepy head. Did you wake up tired again?

SS

Neak, I hope it works - as far as publishing goes. That's so interresting, and exciting, but it's still a lot of work for you. Rest while you can.

SS

No, but it sounds like you could use a good cleaver. Or two! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

t&l

<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> There's another way? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Make that a triple order of cleavers, to go. Put a rush on it.

SS, I'm glad they made you laugh. It was pretty funny, especially hearing the squeeeeeeeees from the Princess. The ones where she was jumping came out more like squeeEEEeeeeeEEEEeeeeeEEEEeeeeeeeEEEeee!

If this publisher doesn't want it, self-publishing is a very viable option, especially since that's what we were planning to do anyway. I just need to hurry and finish my final going-through.

I just need to hurry and finish my final going-through.

You have my permission to do it as soon as your health is back up to where it should be.

Until then - well............ I don't know. Knowing you have kids, and their ages, mayby working on the book would give you a needed rest. I should just shut up, and finish my work.

T&L, I understand that some people wake up rested after a good sleep - I've never met one personally, but I have HEARD about it.

Now I'm yawning, I should quit talking about this.

SS

The major drawing card to working on the book is I get to sit down. Up until now I have not had good enough concentration to do very well, but I think that is ok now.

I do have to interject about forcing children to work together.... now naturally it depends upon the child, but I have to confess this. Since I was naturally the brattiest child in the family, I found ways to TORTURE my brothers when we were forced to work on projects after getting in trouble--I harassed them in every way possible, and yet convinced my parents enough to back me up and punish my brothers even more. Which in turn created more hate and bitterness between me and them. The middle child brother never quite forgave me until I married Flard--he's quite bad at holding grudges. I feel very sorry for being a devil as a child, but I would never force my children to work together, unless they could kiss and make up through it, otherwise it will leave a horrid bitter taste in one or both <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" /> To me, I was fine, because I almost always won the battles. Now my poor brother(s)... different song.:(

Flard at least got a kick out of hearing about my escapades. He used to try to egg me into being a brat, just so he could call me one <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" />.

is Neaksis writing a book?!?!?!? I did not know this!

So Flard calls me up, wanting to know the latest gossip on the Anderson clan, and then he told me he specifically made it a point to tell I.B. how much he despised Andersons so it would get back to them. Wowee. Well, I wonder how long it will take to reach me via Rachel?

I am in Tillamook, Oregon, visiting a brother for Christmas. Just the two of us. We're trying to out-cheese the other for gift ideas. So far, I think he'll be quite pleased with my gift--a "Napoleon Dynamite" T-shirt. I think its cheesy, but he would love to have one. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" /> A phrase, "Your momma goes to college," or "Tina (the Llma Napoleon hates), you Fat Lard!" or "Gosh!" or "Skillz" or "Numchuck Skillz" or "Liger" "Rex Qwon Doe" or something stupid like that. Boys. David is on a Napoleon kick as well I believe.

Anyway, I will sign off <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" /> and go to bed. Not much else to report over here. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" />

Mailed you a package yesterday, Gell. I guess you'll have to get it when you get home from your visit. It seems Flard's high moral standards (<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/tongue.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />) don't prevent him from trying to stir up trouble when he gets a chance. IB went off on maternity leave today, so if she wants to pass incendiary messages to her in-laws, at least she's got plenty of time. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> Better flame-proof your computer before the complaints start coming at you! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> Hope you have a nice Christmas, my dear. We'll miss you down here, though.

t&l

P.S. I may have published his embarrassing childhood poems, but at least I didn't use his real name! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

It's the same old book you've already heard about, Peter, Fisher of Men. Not that I'm not proud of her for writing it, but I've read it at least 6 times already, what with all that proofreading, plus one read for myself, and another for the kiddies...and it's not even published yet! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

OK, a quick Dervish anecdote before my patient needs something. Or something.

When we went to Journey to Bethlehem a couple of weeks back, Neaksis and I had all the kids (<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /><img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />) to supervise. The "journey" consists of a 45-min. tour, in the cold and the dark (NOT that I'm bitter!), of a large lot with little tableaus set up representing (surprisingly enough) a journey to Bethlehem. Each group joins the family of your guide, and follows them from place to place as they travel to pay their taxes, meeting Roman soldiers, shepherds, wise men, other travelers, Herod, etc. along the way.

When we first joined our group, the guide taught everybody to say "Shalom," and had them repeat it several times for practice before we set out. The Dervish dutifully repeated "Shalom," too, but a half-bubble off plumb, so to speak. Here's how it went: Guide, "Shalom." Group, "Shalom." Brief moment of silence. Dervish, in a high-yet-oddly-piercing voice, "Shalo-o-o-o-om." This sequence was repeated each time during the practice. When we finally set out and made our first stop, at the mapmaker's house, we did the whole sequence again as we arrived, and then when we left it went like this: Mapmaker, "Shalom." Guide, "Shalom." Group, "Shalom." Silence...

Dervish, "Shalo-o-o-o-om.......Noah, why we keep saying 'Shalo-o-o-o-o-om'?" <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

The Dervish Life Philosophy: You never want to let the fact that you don't have a clue what you're doing, keep you from full participation in it.

t&l

Neaksis (age 11)--1989

At Christmas time, my Grandma's house
Is really the place to be.
I like to help her decorate,
And set up the Christmas tree.
She's got little red elves and a mouse in a shoe,
Ten billion Santas, and some candy canes, too.
We carefully set them in just the right place,
And when we're finished there's not one empty space.
But finally everything's perfect at last,
And we all sit down for our Christmas repast.

The Bible says Jesus, His heart full of love,
Is fixing us places in heaven above.
He's building us houses along streets of gold;
There no evil will enter, the Bible has told.
So I like to rejoice, when I look at the tree,
At what God's preparing for you and for me;
And when all is ready, the time is just right,
Our Lord will return to end earth's dark night.
So the meaning of Christmas, I think that it's true,
Is this "Tale of Preparing" I've just shared with you.
He'll soon have them ready--those mansions so fair.
He's coming to get us...don't YOU want to be there?

t&l

Neaksis (age 12)--1990

When I was a wee, bitsy Christmas sprite,
I wished for more presents with all of my might.
I thought my parents were rich, you see,
And could make heaps of goodies go under our tree.
I craved all those wonderful things at the store;
No matter how many, I still wanted more.
I'd sit and imagine they ALL were for me;
I'd gaze, and I'd ponder, then whisper, "Let's see,
Now what could be in that big square box so nice--
A lovely tiara, with diamonds like ice?
And inside this round box, all wrapped up in green,
There must be some treasure that waits to be seen!"
But now that I'm older, a tiny bit smart,
I know that my presents all came from K-Mart.
Instead of a wealthy dad like Donald Trump,
Mine likes to forage for things at the dump.
Since I've found they've no money piled up to the sky,
I try not to expect all those things they can't buy.
I know though they're poor, they did all that they could,
To make all our Christmases happy and good.
But my heavenly Father? He owns everything--
The sky, and the stars, and the sweet birds that sing.
He gives me a life to live here on this earth;
He offers salvation, the gift of new birth...
And someday a home where we'll never grow old;
No diamond tiaras, but crowns of pure gold.
So I don't regret all the things I can't get,
For the best gifts of all haven't come to me yet.
I'm almost grown up now, and not such a pig;
So I want to share with you this secret so big...
God's presents are not just for me; they're for you--
And for all who'll accept what His Son came to do.

t&l

A Naturalist Dreams at Christmas by Flard (age 14)--1990

I went for a walk on a cold Christmas night,
Surrounded by signs of sin's terrible blight.
The stark, barren branches against the night sky;
The dry, fallen leaves where they'd drifted to die.

At my feet in the leaves, there rustled a mouse,
A stray from its sheltering, warm, downy house.
A fierce great horned owl swooped down on its prey,
And carried the doomed mouse to death far away.

Ahead lay some poor creature's scattered remains;
Just some fur, and some bones, and a few bits of brains.
It made me feel sad that God's world had been spoiled;
Its beauty imperiled, its purity soiled.

I awoke with the sun, and while I was asleep,
It had snowed in the night, with the drifts piled deep.
I looked all around, everywhere, high and low--
And everything shone with bright, white, gleaming snow.

It had buried the signs of evil and sin;
Just like God cleanses our hearts from within.
The blood of our Savior will cover our past;
It won't melt in the springtime; THIS covering will last.


After 1990, I reached the point of diminishing returns, and a cost/benefit analysis convinced me it was more trouble to make those boys write the poems than it was fun to send the finished results...so I gave it up and resumed writing my own letters. But it was funny while it lasted, and this particular one of Flard's has always cracked me up. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

t&l

That is very very good news about the book and the publisher. Another option for you to get it out there.

What has not writing a book BEFORE got to do with neaksis being considered or not? I mean even Dickens had to write for the FIRST time once!! Right?

tl those poems are gorgeous ... what happy memories they must bring of the times with the kids!

Aren't kids great!
That story of neaks brought back some very pleasant memories and some which are funny NOW.
Not that funny then !!! LOL

I remember one time when DS around 13 was teasing his big sister around 14 - usual stuff - DD being gooey eyed over some young man at school.
In the end I sent her outside to spread the hay over the potato plants and he to clean his room ..no way was I putting MY hand under that bed!

So then I hear more yelling, I did the big sigh thingy and got up to go outside and what do I find? DS had used DD's make up to paint a desert camo over his face knowing that he was not supposed to touch her 'girl' stuff *and was opening her diary just about to read it aloud when DD took after him with the pitch fork in her hands.

He dropped the diary and ran for it. I dropped everything and ran after her, and trailing along behind me laughing and falling over every few steps thinking it was a great joke was little Peter.
I have no idea what the neighbours thought at the time. The Simpsons or South Park live maybe!

<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> funny now!

A lot of these books list the life achievements of their authors, the professional societies to which they belong, their degrees, previous published books, etc., and etc., etc., and blahblahblahblahblah--I guess to lend credibility to their work. As a joke, when writing the bio for her first book, Neak, having no such professional qualifications, said she was the county champion in diaper changing and speed vacuuming...and was shocked when it appeared on the back of the book once it was published.

Here, Neak, is a sample bio for your sister: "Neaksis, age 27, single, attractive, shy but with an excellent sense of humor and a sharp wit, skilled cook and homemaker, seamstress, photographer, artist, and adoptive mother of 3 cute-yet-disturbed preteens, has an much more extensive knowledge of sexual perversions than you would expect from your average virgin maiden. (She disapproves of them. Don't get your hopes up!) In addition to hoping that you will purchase her book, she is also taking applications from eligible men of an appropriate age (under 90), attractiveness (please tell me your face doesn't stop clocks and shatter mirrors), wealth (do you have a job?), ambition (if your butt's been welded to the recliner seat, don't bother), and life vigor (must have pulse)." <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Why do I think that I'm not going to be the one who gets to write her bio for her? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/teary.gif" alt="" />

t&l

oh my tl

what will neaksis say after THAT one!!! hehehhe <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Now tl she may go out with any nice man except one in any Defence service. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

You know DD's song ....

Soldiers ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you a song then diamonds or gold
Letters half written and old faded photo's each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young
He'll probably just ride away
<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

But I guess if he's REALLY REALLY nice you'll just have to be happy regardless!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />