Archive for September, 2005

ummm…what were we talking about?

September 30, 2005

As the apple among the trees of the wood, so is my Beloved among the sons. I sat down under His shadow with great delight, and His fruit was sweet to my taste.

Song of Solomon 2:3

Maybe you can’t tell from reading my blog, but I think most people who know me in real life would agree: I am not a wordy person.
I’m not painfully shy or reluctant to enter conversation. I’m just used to sharing the airwaves with more than the average number of family members, so I really don’t talk a lot.
I like to think that I’m a better listener than a talker, but I’m afraid my short-term memory (or more accurately, my lack thereof) may affect my ability as a listener too. Does it really count as listening if it’s going in one ear and out the other? What matters: how much you retain, or how much you care? Obviously, I hope and believe it’s the latter, but try convincing someone who actually has a short-term memory.
On the upside, my friends can confide in me without worrying that I’ll blab their secrets about, because we all know that amnesia will strike within 2 hours. I’m like Dory on Finding Nemo.
But…ummm…what were we talking about?
Talking.
I’m afraid I don’t praise my husband aloud nearly enough. I’m afraid that he doesn’t even suspect what a wonderful guy he is, because making moon eyes and buying him pork rinds (which he claims he actually doesn’t like, even though he used to eat them a lot) just don’t communicate my respect and admiration fully. I guess this is where words can speak louder than actions.
I need to start telling him how much I respect him for, well, his memory.
His ability to think outside the box.
His critical thinking: thanks to him, I can no longer listen to rock music, blissfully oblivious of the lyrics.
His determination when he faces a daunting project; he pushes himself to the limit, knowing that if God puts a task before him then he *is* capable of doing it.
His willingness to teach me, an insufferable know-it-all desparately in need of his instruction.
He complements me perfectly (and compliments me very nicely, I might add).
I am so thankful for him every day, and I fail so often to tell him!

Lord, thank you for my husband. Thank you for creating me to be a
helper to a man who loves you and selflessly serves those in his care.
Help me to build him up daily!

Speed bumps, ticks and other hateful things

September 29, 2005


Well, this isn’t something I was excited about sharing, but it’s certainly a noteworthy event in my life right now. On Tuesday night, I bumped my tailbone really hard. I didn’t quite go into shock like I did the last time this happened, but I couldn’t help wondering: Is twice in 10 years excessive? It sure feels like it happens too often.
Two days later, it’s still quite painful. I now hate speed bumps with a special sort of passion formerly reserved for ticks and leeches.
There is a bright side to experiencing great pain and anguish every time you sit or lie down; I’m uncommonly motivated to, well, remain standing. Yesterday, once I made it out of bed, I didn’t sit down all day.
Boy, did I get a lot done.
Maybe God wants me to budget my computer time a little more carefully. I’m gonna play it safe and assume that’s what He wants, because if this is Lesson 1 then I don’t want Lesson 2.
I’ll try to keep up with my blogging, because I enjoy it, my husband likes my blog, and I want to set a good example for our young budding writers.
I will, however, try to resist the urge to check for new comments and email every 30 minutes throughout the day. I wonder if I can make it for a whole hour at a time?

An Alphabet of Fatherly Virtues…

September 27, 2005


Observed in a Certain Father by Seven Young Ladies.

Affectionate
Built our house
Christian
Diligent
Encourages us
Forgiving and Forgetful
Generous
Hard-working
Intelligent
Just
Kind and Kingly
Loves his kids
Muscular (Masculine was also discussed; Maniacal was suggested but voted down)
Noble
Observant (Kaitlyn observed that this is not always good: for example, when Dad looks into the bedroom and observes a mess)
Poetic (Dearest Father, Apple of our Eye and Jewel of our Hearts, we beseech you to meditate upon the word “vapors.”)
Quite nice
Rough-houses with his children
Spanks us so we’re not brats
Tough
Unselfish with a rented ‘05 Mustang; also, Unflinching when he trades punches
Valiant
Wise
Xtra energetic (250 push-ups in a day, and often walks several miles)
Youthful
Zealous

Deja Vu all over again

September 27, 2005


The dog is back. Again.
Did I forget to mention that she had left us…again?
Barely 24 hours after we bailed her out of doggie jail, she took off again, this time trailing a 20 foot leash. The leash proves that we tried, right?
My Hardworkin’ Man went traipsing through the woods later that day yelling, “Lady!” I wonder what the neighbors thought?
Two days passed, and we called the sheriff to see if she had been picked up, but they hadn’t seen her this time.
At 3 days, we notified the neighbors.
And then we settled down to wait, trying not to mention the obvious: poor Lady was undoubtedly somewhere in the woods, her leash hopelessly entangled in the brush. Would she escape in time?
Late this morning, 4 full days after Lady left us, Lydia spotted somebody walking slowly up the drive, trailing 4 feet of leash. It was Lady. A humble Lady. A small and sad Lady. A boy-am-glad-to-see-you Lady. A thirsty Lady.
Golden Retrievers are supposed to be fast learners, but we have no illusions about Lady having learned her lesson; We’re just hoping maybe next time Lady will chew through the leash a little faster.

A Wall House

September 27, 2005


Our Becca will be so happy!
At her last dental checkup, 4 year old Becca announced that she wanted to live at the dentist, because “the dentist has green walls, but we just have a [dry]wall house.”
If you read my husband’s blog, you know that My Hardworkin’ Man stayed up until midnight texturing one of the bedrooms last night. The job isn’t done yet, but Lord willing we will have the living room and 1 bedroom (not Becca’s, unfortunately) textured and painted by Saturday.
These will be the 2nd and 3rd rooms to be painted.
We worked last night until we could work no more: we called it a night not because we ran out of steam, but because we ran out of mud for texturing.
I guess God decided it was our bedtime. I’m glad He did, because now we’re eager to move on rather than being exhausted from having worked half the night.
I’m so excited about resuming progress on our “homemade house,” another term borrowed from our children. Doncha just love the way their little heads work?

When Children Cook

September 25, 2005


Let me start by saying I’m very neat when I cook. If I spill a little baking powder, I wipe up before moving on. I wash bowls and utensils as I use them. I put things away as soon as I’ve used them.
My house is not perfect, but if I am simultaneously happy and cooking, you can be sure that my kitchen is clean.
Yes, I’ve heard it said that the only good cook is a messy cook. I’m sure it was a messy cook who first said it. But I don’t buy it. When I’m in the middle of a mess, I’m distracted and stressed. I don’t cook well in a mess, so I clean up as I go. It’s that simple.
It took me many years to develop these habits fully. My children are younger than me – you realized this, right? They have not been cooking for many years; therefore, sadly, they have not yet perfected the art of clean cookery.
So now we have a system when the older girls cook.
The system is this: they cook, I stay out of the kitchen.
They are 10 and 12, so I trust them to call me if they start a fire they can’t put out themselves. Otherwise I just stay busy elsewhere in the house. I’m speaking figuratively, but I suppose the Fire Rule would apply literally just as well.
Sometimes I don’t know ahead of time that one of them is cooking. If I hear a scary noise, I ask from the other room, “Should I not come into the kitchen right now?”
They clean up when they’re done. Then, and only then, I enter the kitchen. I sample their wares, glance around the kitchen, and everyone is happy.

The Mail Fairy

September 23, 2005


When you’re raising a large family on a single income, it’s nice to make a child feel special without shelling out a special amount of cash:
We have a little tradition in our house, which my 9yo sister nicknamed “the mail fairy.”
I like to frequent freebie websites and order free samples for my children. I occasionally will order something for other people that might be interested – like my 9yo sister.
Since free samples are unreliable to say the least, I make it a secret; this way nobody is disappointed if a sample doesn’t arrive.
But if it does arrive, somebody’s day is made. “Mail for me? Why? How? Who? It must be The Mail Fairy!”
Some of the freebies we have received:

  • stickers
  • color books
  • those little plastic tooth flossers
  • utility knife
  • Ensure
  • Pantene Pro-V shampoo and conditioner
  • memo pad and clip board
  • Nascar poster (this went to my 9yo brother)
  • personalized ball point pen
  • coupon for a full size candy bar
  • snack bar
  • a poorly done CD
  • a poster of horse breeds
  • coffee and tea samples
  • much, much more

All of these were free for the asking. I found most of them at Spoofee’s Free Goods page, although there are many other freebie sites out there.

The Spoofee home page lists great deals every day from major vendors all over the web: Staples, Amazon, Buy.com, etc. Scroll down to my post about bookcases for an example.

The gender scale has tipped a little further…

September 23, 2005


As if the male gender wasn’t already rare enough in our household, the scale just tipped a little farther. No, we’re not expecting a new baby.
We just, well, forgive me: we just retrieved our 2-weeks-missing Golden Retriever from the local animal shelter. Lady is back! And she is happy with all the heartfelt, bubbling-over drooly joy that only a Golden Retriever can muster.
Who even knew that the little town nearby had an animal shelter? Well, apparently one of our neighbors knew when they placed the call to have our sweet Lady dog-napped, but we won’t dwell on that. When, by God’s good providence, I just happened to hear somebody mention the shelter, I whipped out my trusty green notepad and jotted down the name of the place.
From the beginning, the children were sure that Lady was there, but I tried not to get my hopes up. But I needn’t have worried.
I did a little sleuthing to acquire the number, called the shelter and left a message, and settled down to wait.
Well, if you can’t expect a small town to have a listed phone number for the animal shelter, then obviously they won’t actually staff the animal shelter.
Three days later, we received an exciting call: there was indeed a sweet young female Golden Retriever at the shelter. The nice lady knew only that she had been there about 10 days. She said that if we could come between 9 AM and noon, we might be lucky enough to find the gate unlocked and the cleaning crew at work. Otherwise, we would need to call the sheriff’s department and see if they could spare a deputy to come show us the animal shelter inmates.
Getting viewing privileges was more easily said than done, and involved getting on a first name basis with the sheriff’s dispatch, but in the end it all worked out.
As soon as we were able, we all piled out of the living room and into the stuffy Suburban; out of the Suburban and into the shelter; back to the Suburban and over to the cold room at the sheriff’s department; and back into the now steaming hot Suburban, which would be even steamier when we were joined an hour later by a highly excited, heavily panting, very slobbery golden girl.
But Lady was ours again!
We brought her home, washed off some of the kennel odor (which she seemed very willing to be shed of) and took turns being slobbered upon, while we hatched out new and better plans for keeping a very intelligent and ambitious dog confined. Our dog may be bad, but life is good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Green Notepad Project installment #1

Olives no more?

September 22, 2005


The suspense is killing me.
We recently dined at The Olive Garden. We love The Olive Garden, and we thought they loved us. They were always nice to us, and seemed to enjoy our company.
But now I’m not so sure.
After our last visit, I used the online feedback forum to say something like this…(as the reply I received did not quote my original message, I will be recreating to the best of my ability):

We enjoy eating out with our 7 daughters. We generally find our servers to be cheerful, competent, and eager to please, and we generally tip 20-25%. Many restaurants reserve the right to add a mandatory gratuity to the bill for larger parties, but it has never been done to us. Never, that is, until our last visit to The Olive Garden.
On August 19, we visited your Round Rock location with our 7 daughters. Our children were neat, quiet, and well-behaved. They made very few requests of our server. We received many compliments on their behavior and appearance from both patrons and staff.
When our bill arrived, we discovered that a “mandatory gratuity” of 18% had been added. This was insulting to us and unfortunate to the server, who would have received significantly more had the tipping been voluntary.
Our server maintained that the mandatory gratuity was store policy and the decision was not in his own hands.
If this is true, our family will need to reconsider patronizing The Olive Garden…

Here is the reply I received:


Dear Kim:

Thank you for your interest in Olive Garden and allowing us an opportunity to respond.

We have noted your comments concerning the addition of a gratuity to your check. As indicated on the inside panel of our menu and on your guest check, we add an optional gratuity to each guest check on parties of eight or more. The 18 % gratuity is to ensure our server receives the tip amount that is generally considered “standard” for service that meets expectations. As you might imagine, the potential gratuity from each party becomes very meaningful to your service provider. One way you can let us know how we did is by how you reward your service provider. We hope that all of our servers warrant at least a standard tip, however, should you feel a tip is unwarranted, please discuss your concerns with the manager on duty. Of course, if you felt the service was exceptional, you can also leave an even more generous tip to reflect your delight.

Again, thank you for sharing your comments. We consider you a valued guest and hope you will continue to think of Olive Garden for your dining occasions.

Erich
Olive Garden Guest Relations

Is it just me, or does it look suspiciously like a form letter?
Needless to say, we were less than pleased with the response above. My dear husband drew up his own reply and sent it to me for polishing. Here is what we are sending to Mr. Guest Relations:
Erich,
I’m sorry, but I disagree. If the mandatory gratuity were a safeguard for the server, you would add no more than the minimum acceptable tip. If The Olive Garden were truly concerned about protecting servers, you might even tip the server yourself when his customers fail to do so.

But a mandatory gratuity of 12-15% would still be offensive to me because we are a neither a “party” nor a “group.” We are a family. I’m disappointed that The Olive Garden does not recognize the difference.

An automatic additional charge (of 18%, no less) is not a gratuity:

A favor or gift, usually in the form of money, given in return for service.

This is a surcharge:
An additional sum added to the usual amount or cost.
This is a penalty for bringing our 7 daughters to your restaurant. The couple in the next room whose toddler screamed incessantly was not required to pay a surcharge. Their child (just 1) made everyone’s meal less pleasant. But there were no additional charges on their bill because of that.
We know many large families; nearly all of them train and require their children to behave well in public. Large families recognize that children must be trained to behave well. We don’t want restaurant managers to cringe when we enter.
We spent $120, with no dessert or alcohol. Our children were quiet and undemanding. We made very few requests of our server: 1 drink refill/child. 1 extra plate. 2 boxes for leftovers. We checked the floor for dropped items before we left. We used the restroom several times, but were careful to dry the counters and pick up stray paper towels – which were there before we arrived. Perhaps the surcharge helps with the water bill?
Let me close by reiterating: we understand that most restaurants give servers the right to add a “mandatory gratuity” to larger parties. However, this was the first time the large party surcharge has ever been imposed upon us. Until our last visit to your restaurant, we have always been treated as family.
We will miss our Olive Garden dining, but we are looking forward to eating in an establishment where our family is treated like family.

Sincerely,
The Coghlan Family

Would anyone care to hazard a guess on the reply we will receive this time? Has anyone else dealt with this problem? We hate to give up The Olive Garden – it really is my favorite restaurant – but this is the first time we have ever felt…well…discrimination against large families, for want of a kinder term.

The Basement and the Spoon

September 20, 2005


Ok, I’m not sure if this is method or madness, but here’s a fun little story.
When we lived up north, our house had a basement. It was a nice one as basements go, but still a little dark, a little dank, and generally creepy if you’re very young or somewhat timid. It wasn’t a place that our children wanted to be.
Our basement had a few notable features, among them a washer, a dryer, and a freezer. Ah, the freezer.
Common kid ice cream stayed on the ground floor, in the little freezer that made up the top of the fridge. Big buckets of store brand neapolitan, cookies-n-cream, chocolate. Good stuff, right?
But what lurked in the basement? Downstairs, alone in the cool darkness, is where I learned to love Moose Tracks, and Bear Claw, and other equally irrelevant Alaskan names for new permutations of chocolate and nuts and caramel.
Let’s just say that keeping up with laundry in those days was not a problem. I’m still a little surprised that they never asked why I needed a spoon to do laundry.