Parkwells: /* public libraries */ copy edit - add more about contributions of women's clubs

Public libraries: copy edit - add more about contributions of women's clubs ← Previous revision Revision as of 15:17, 10 May 2009 Line 89: Line 89: The earliest example in England of a library to be endowed for the benefit of users who were not members of an institution such as a cathedral or college was the [[Francis Trigge Chained Library]] in [[Grantham]], [[Lincolnshire]], established in 1598. The library still exists and can justifiably claim to be the forerunner of later public library systems.The beginning of the modern, free, open access libraries really got its start in the U.K. in 1847. [[Parliament]] appointed a committee, led by William Ewart, on Public Libraries to consider the necessity of establishing libraries through the nation: In 1849 their report noted the poor condition of library service, it recommended the establishment of free public libraries all over the country, and it led to the Public Libraries Act in 1850, which allowed all cities with populations exceeding 10,000 to levy taxes for the support of public libraries. Another important act was the 1870 Public School Law, which increased literacy, thereby the demand for libraries, so by 1877, more than 75 cities had established free libraries, and by 1900 the number had reached 300. {{cite booktitle=The History of Libraries in the Western Worldauthor=Harris, Michael H.year=1984city=Londonpublisher=Scarecrow Press}} This finally marks the start of the public library as we know it. And these acts led to similar laws in other countries, most notably the U.S. The earliest example in England of a library to be endowed for the benefit of users who were not members of an institution such as a cathedral or college was the [[Francis Trigge Chained Library]] in [[Grantham]], [[Lincolnshire]], established in 1598. ...

Ft Worth Turkey Trot

This was the first year that I have ever done a Turkey Trot other than Austin. The Austin Turkey Trot is HUGE. There are games for the kids, music, people in Pilllsbury suits walking around....it is a Turkey Day Festival in and of itself. So, I was sure what to expect from Ft. Worth.Getting there wasn't hard and finding a parking place was fairly simple. I think we ended up about two blocks from the actual start, parked in front of someone's house. We had about an hour to kill but still had to pick up our packet. The packet pickup lines were no where near as long as the Austin lines but there were few volunteers and they were not doing a good job of keeping folks in their correct alphabetical lines. So, we stood in line, drinking our coffee, eating our Clif Bar breakfasts, people watching. Oh, and BIG bonus points, here, as it turns out dogs are allowed and the Ft Worth canine population was well represented.When we finally made it through the line, we were told they were out of shirts and we would have to sign up for them to send a shirt to us. Also, the chip pickup was at another table so, as Kent had a chip and I didn't care if I was timed or not (let me point out that normally I would run the Trot with one or more of my dogs and this was the first year I had not done that. I missed my Eden and we almost went back for her.), we skipped it and went to find the start of the 10k and to do our 2 mile warmup. When we had first arrived there seemed to be about 3,000 people milling around, listening to the band play, eating free yogurt and doing warm-up exercises with Jane Fonda. As we headed towards the course, we noticed that more than half the participants were gone. We concluded that most of the folks were doing the 5k which started about 50 mins before the 10k or the 1 mile walk which started with the 5k. As we took off on the course, for our warmup, we noticed that the 5k'ers were making their way to the finish (quickly, I might add) and were having to dodge around the walkers, many of which had their pooches or baby strollers. That probably could have been better planned. So, deduct points for possible collisions or dog bites.We finished up our warmup, headed back to the car (which was conveniently close) and took off a couple of more layers of clothing. By this time it was probably in the upper 60's low 70's. We headed back to where we thought the start was located. Turned out we weren't completely right. As it got close to time, they herded all 500 or so, of us, into a parking lot where there was a white line drawn on the ground. As Kent handed me his gloves, camera and shirt, which I wrapped around my waist with my own long sleeve shirt (not very aero dynamic at this point) I heard a faint 8...7...6....5... I yelled to Kent, "GO...GO...GO" and pushed him the direction of the start. With no starting mat to run across Kent needed to be as close to the front as he could get when the gun went off. Correction here, when the guy yelled, "GO". (most of the racers couldn't believe we had started as it was 2 mins early and not many people had heard the countdown). So take off points for an unorganized start and double negative points for no National Anthem. (how do you know a race is about to start without a national anthem?) First mile was down hill...then, from there, it was up, down, up, down, up, down. I mean, I thought Ft. Worth was flat. You basically ran up and down a hill on one block, took a corner another corner and paralleled the same street with the same hills in it. There were water stops about every 2 miles, however, at some of the water stops there was a total of two people working. There were not too many people out on the course, cheering, but the ones that had come out of their houses, coffees in hands, were all smiles and cheers. The last 200 meters was totally down hill which provided a strong finish, if you have anything left in ya, and a great picture as you churn your way over the finish line. The after race celebration was on, with the "We only know one melody" country band and the awarding of giant trophies to the winners of the different age groups and races. The results were posted within 15 mins of our finish so add points for efficiency. However, turns out that the normal standard champion chips were not used at this race so we had to go convince the results guy that Kent came in 4th in his age group and 10th over all. For some reason the woman who promised him she had written it down when he crossed the mat never conveyed the information to anyone that matter. Whatever, it was the principal of it cause, in the end, you only get hardware if you get top three in your age group. So, with no tshirt and no trophies, we loaded up ourselves and headed to a 7-11 for drive home coffee.

Drive, walk, motorbike or Cycle to your destination.

Have you ever noticed the amount of homogeneity that exists in the roads of the western world? I am pretty familiar with California and spotting a motorbike is as rare as spotting a mosquito. It seems like vast majority of them are, infact, on the same type of vehicle ( a car) and hence are most likely to take the same route/direction given two places. And so Google Maps, Yahoo Maps and all of these guys have just one type of route. Fair enough.Bring India in and the equation changes quite phenomenally. Just like our people, vehicles on our roads are of various types. Between two and six wheels, we have all the kind of Vehicles known to man kind running on our roads and each one of them is as important as the other.Now, let me build a hypothesis on top of that previous statement. Arguably, The same person travelling between the same two given places may take a different route depending on the kind of vehicle he is on.I, for one, prefer the side roads (gallis) and small roads that are less polluted and less crowded over main roads when I am on a motorbike. I am willing to ride a few hundred meters extra if I can skip a few junctions/signals which are a big bottleneck on traffic speeds. But when I am in a car, I would rather stick to the main roads because the condition of side roads are unpredictable. Plus, you never know if that big gravel truck is parked blocking the entire street. But, whenever I take the cycle, I really want to avoid main roads completely if possible, because, they are simply not safe.There are very many ways to get to a place. Sometimes, you want to take the fastest route, Sometimes the shortest. But the kind of vehicle never used to play a part. But, now it does. At Yahoo! India maps. Search for a route and watch out for buttons on the right pane. Choose the one that fits you well and drive safe and with a smile.

Mouzz!!!

Here he is! The rat formerly known as Soul but now known as Mouzz. He just didn't seem spiritual enough to be called Soul. But really, how would you know if a rat was spiritual or not? Anyway, Mouzz it is.He's been a very good boy so far. He's only bitten me once but it wasn't that big of a deal. I've been bitten by horses, anything less than that isn't really worth talking about. Mouzz is particularly fond of yogurt chips and peanuts. But, as you can see from the pictures, he's kind of a full size rattie. Actually he almost looks like a guinea pig, doesn't he? Gracious me.I've been trying to spend as much time as I can with him but since he doesn't live with me (THANKS, ANDY) it hasn't been easy. I think he likes me though. He'll sit in my lap and give himself a bath. I've also been the recipient of a few rattie kisses and occasionally he'll perch on my shoulder. Since I've only had him a week I think we're doing OK.Plans are in the works to get Mouzz a friend (tentatively named "Plague") once I get the funds together for a new and improved cage. Ratties need a LOT of space. And since Mouzz is neutered we'll probably go for a girl rattie. I'm beginning to think ratties are like the best pets EVER. Just don't tell DeeDee and Andy I said that.On the knitting front there's not much to report. I'm working on a plain ol' stockinette sock and that's about it. I am not the inspired knitter these days. Rather depressing, really ... However! There is something mildly exciting happening on Tuesday. Well maybe "mildly" might be a stretch. Tuesday, January 27th is my 3 year bloggin' anniversary. See what I mean about "mildly" being a stretch? Anyway there will be a "leave a comment that day, win fabulous prizes" contest. If for no other other reason than I think this is the first time I've remembered my anniversary. Go figure.

Hartzell and Lin lose on appeal

I was going to round up the economic news, with this excellent piece from Taiwan News on the ECFA framework and how poor the government's case is for it as the centerpiece of the blog post, but after reading all the ugly news, from real estate investment at 2 year lows, to the 37.5% drop in exports last month, I was a candidate for therapy.Fortunately, a friend flipped me the decision of the appeals court in the case of Hartzell and Lin v. US over whether the US has some kind of sovereignty over Taiwan (previous blogpost with plenty o'links). Lin et al have lost their case, on the grounds I noted in the earlier post, that the question of sovereignty over Taiwan is a political question to be decided by the other branches of government. The Court makes its point (my emphasis):Appellants argue this is a straightforward question of treaty and statutory interpretation and well within the Article III powers of the court. It is and it isn’t. The political question doctrine deprives federal courts of jurisdiction, based on prudential concerns, over cases which would normally fall within their purview. National Treasury Employees Union v. United States, 101 F.3d 1423, 1427 (D.C. Cir. 1996). We do not disagree with Appellants’ assertion that we could resolve this case through treaty analysis and statutory construction, see Japan Whaling Ass’n v. American Cetacean Soc’y, 478 U.S. 221, 230 (1986) (“[T]he courts have the authority to construe treaties and executive agreements, and it goes without saying that interpreting congressional legislation is a recurring and accepted task for the federal courts.”); we merely decline to do so as this case presents a political question which strips us of jurisdiction to undertake that otherwise familiar task. See Gonzalez-Vera v. Kissinger, 449 F.3d 1260, 1264 (D.C. Cir. 2006) (“We need not quarrel with the plaintiffs’ assertion that certain claims for torture may be adjudicated in the federal courts as provided in the TVPA. We simply observe that such a claim, like any other, may not be heard if it presents a political question.”).The Court's decision is not without a certain wry humor:Identifying Taiwan’s sovereign is an antecedent question to Appellants’ claims. This leaves the Court with few options. We could jettison the United States’ long-standing foreign policy regarding Taiwan—that of strategic ambiguity—in favor of declaring a sovereign. But that seems imprudent. Since no war powers have been delegated to the judiciary, judicial modesty as well as doctrine cautions us to abjure so provocative a course....and the final paragraph:Addressing Appellants’ claims would require identification of Taiwan’s sovereign. The Executive Branch has deliberately remained silent on this issue and we cannot intrude on its decision. Therefore, as the district court correctly concluded, consideration of Appellants’ claims is barred by the political question doctrine. Accordingly, we affirm.Good job, judges.UPDATE: PDF of decision is online

Slumdog Millionaire

I have heard it said that if you want to know what the British Army was like in the Nineteenth Century, take at look at the Indian Army in the Twentieth.p Well, if you want to get back in touch with your inner Charles Dickens, watch Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire, a tale of two young men surviving on their own wits in modern Bombay.p It's a splendid movie: well written and acted, and visually captivating.p Without giving too much away, the main character appears on the Indian version of "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?"p He is stunningly successful and this leads to his immediate arrest on suspicion of cheating.p In a rather brutal interrogation, he is asked to explain how he knew the answers to each of the questions, despite the fact that he was a former street urchin, with no education.p His answers and memories are the device with which the movie tells its story.p Though that story is a rather simple fairy tale, it is a Dickensian fairy tale and that creates a powerful resonance.p There were moments in the movie when I half expected someone to belt out a number from Oliver!p Perhaps the most interesting thing about the story is that its protagonist, Jamal Malik, is a person of almost perfect honesty.p In explaining to the police chief how he knew the answers to the quiz questions, he ends up confessing to any number of petty crimes.p Why do you do this, the incredulous officer asks?p "When someone asks me a question," Jamal replies, "I give him the answer."p The police officer lets Jamal go because he realizes that the young man is simply incapable of lying.p That honesty has some connection to the fact that Jamal is someone in whom love never, ever dies.p But the story is not naive.p Jamal survives only by the protection of his older brother, who shares none of Jamal's scruples, and is far more aggressive.p Slumdog Millionaire is not one you want to miss.p

Black and white twins

The Fixer

An Iraqi father poses with his two sons."Fixer" is apparently an Arabic word that means, "I don't wait in lines". Like almost all western companies in Iraq, we employ locals to act as "fixers; to get us through the snags and complications of operating in a foreign land. They use any means at their disposal, some of which can be pretty unsavory, to get us in a position to do our job.I went to the airport this morning, our lead fixer and I were flying out of Baghdad on the same flight to Amman. At the first sight of a line he didn't even break stride, walking purposefully right the the front of the 30-person line, grabbing my passport as he went. The cacophony of groans and gripes was deafening to my sensitive western ears. The fixer seemed to be energized by it, and pressed on; business class seats, boarding passes, luggage tags all within seconds. I was looking for a corner to hide in as the symphony of disgruntled passengers grew.This scene transpired not only at the check-in desk but also at Immigration, the boarding ramp, and the bus taking us to the plane. Nothing would deter him. He was like a pitbull. I meekly followed along, afraid to get lost in the throngs of unhappy (pissed off) travelers. I secretly reveled in the "fast track", but was painfully embarrassed at the means to get there.On a side note, while on the airplane we were handed a form, what at first I thought was an Immigration form for Jordan. Dutifully filling in the blanks I got to the question, "Do you have diarrhea?" It went on from there; "How long have you had it? Medications? Doctor's note?" Not something that you see everyday. They were apparently looking for cholera coming out of Iraq.

Interpreter of Maladies

I was indifferent when I read Lahiri’s The Namesake, but I really liked this book. Possibly she’s better at short fiction—I note her new book is short fiction again.The stories focus on Indian-Americans, primarily those like the author who are second generation, who have become Americans in ways their parents have not. In the title story, the main character is a taxi driver/tour guide, trained as a linguist and translater whose other job is interpreting for a physician who doesn’t speak all the languages of India. The patients tell him their symptoms and stories and he translates for the doctor. In the story he’s taking an Indian American family to see some monuments. They are visiting parents and feel compelled, by custom rather than personal interest in their origins or in the monuments themselves, to see the sights. The family is well dressed and presumably economically successfully. The boys have braces on their teeth—something which seems unfamiliar to the interpreter of maladies. The parents bicker; the children fuss—they’re relatively unattractive as people, almost the stereotype of Americans abroad—herded through ancient monuments they knew nothing about, carrying their ubiquitous cameras and plastic bottles of water. They ARE Americans of course and the fact that they have Indian parents seems to count much less than their lives “back home” in New Jersey. Meanwhile the interpreter of maladies fanaticizes that Mrs. Das will fall in love with him and enable him to be magically lifted out of his hum drum and difficult world into hers.In another story a little girl speculates on the visitor to her home who stayed a year. It was in the 1950ies and he’s on a research grant from his country, but from the part of Pakistan that was at war and then broke off to become Bangladesh. He worries about his family in Dacca with whom he’s lost contact. He’s in a difficult position, on a grant from a country he no longer belongs to. Lilia, the girl, reports his behavior without understanding the political situation. In another story I liked a lot, an eleven-year-old boy goes to a babysitter’s after school. Mrs. Sen is an Indian woman who’s not really accommodated herself to New York—she can’t drive, despite lots of lessons—and calls her husband at work when she needs something though he tries hard to make her more self sufficient. But she and Elliot, the boy, who lives with a divorced and dispirited mother, form a significant bond and when Elliot is taken away after Mrs. Sen finally drives to the fish market with him and has a minor accident, both lose out to the more conventional ones—Mrs. Sen’s husband and Elliot’s mother.In most of the stories at least one character seems out of step and Lahiri zeroes in with a great deal of feeling and absolutely no sentimentality.

Fun For All!

Anytime anyone spouts advice on a blog, you should probably take the advice with a grain of salt.When I spout advice on my blog about anything -- especially about relationships -- you should take it with a whole, giant margarita glass rim of salt. Plus the tequila.I am sharing this with you now because it's been on my mind a lot lately, for a few reasons. Mostly because I've just entered into a new, wonderful marriage...and thus, it seems like a good time to remind myself why my first marriage went up in big shooting orange flames.(I am also sharing this with you because I was not kidding when I said I was going to start blogging like mad. Muahahahahaha!)Luckily for the internet, the entirety of My Relationship Advice can be boiled down into just two pieces, as follows.(And don't worry, we'll be back to all kinds of blogging hilarity any minute now.)* * * * * * *Piece of Advice Number One:Being Passive-Aggressive is destructive to you, to your partner, and to your relationship. It is also dishonest. It is your job, as a grown-up, to say yes when you mean yes and to say no when you mean no. If you aren't sure how you feel, it's not your partner's job to figure it out.Being passive-aggressive can take on about a bajillion forms, and I am pretty sure there aren't enough blogs in the world to cover them all. Especially when there are so many cute cats to take pictures of.But there are some really really straightforward ways to avoid being passive-aggressive in your relationship. Trust me on this.If your partner asks you about something you don't like, do not say "okay" if you don't mean it. The moment you say "okay" or "fine" or "sure" or "I guess so" -- even if you sound kind of sad when you say it -- the onus is on you. You don't get to say yes if you mean no. You especially do not get to say yes if you mean no and are going to spend the next days, weeks, or even years holding it against your partner.Now, this can get tricky, especially when the whole point is that you wish you weren't being asked the question in the first place. You want your partner to know the answer is "no" without you having to be the one to say it.Let me use an example from my current relationship.Last Thursday, Ish asked me if I'd mind if he spent Saturday afternoon with a friend. I looked at the calendar and realized it was Valentine's Day. I immediately felt hurt. I was, momentarily, at a loss for what to say.If I said "Sure, fine," I'd be lying. I didn't feel fine about it, and that disappointment in me would likely seep into our relationship.If I said, "No," I'd feel guilty for saying so. I don't want to force my husband to spend Valentine's Day with me.What I really wanted was for him to not have asked the stupid question in the first place. You know? And that was what I said to him.I told him that I felt bad that he'd rather hang out with a buddy on Valentine's Day than with me. I didn't like saying it. I felt a little stupid and exposed, and I wished he'd just magically known where I was coming from. Like, of COURSE I would want to spend the day with him.But then his response surprised me. He apologized, and said he didn't see it that way. He didn't think much of the "holiday" and had no idea I put any stock in it -- we'd never had a conversation about it. He said we'd already made special plans for that morning and evening, and thought a few hours in the afternoon wouldn't make a lick of difference.Let me just say that this example would have gone very, very differently in my first marriage.I dunno, I've just seemed to witness this a bunch lately with some couples I know. The case of, "I said it was okay because I love him and want him to be happy!" Which is very nice and wonderful and good if you can live with your making-him-happy decision. But if you hate your decision and it makes you unhappy, and you find yourself complaining about it, and even perhaps adding it to an arsenal of "Things I Do For Him Because I Love Him"...um. I don't think it takes long for that arsenal to breed resentment. And that resentment will come out eventually.Which brings me to...* * * * * * *Piece of Advice Number Two:All the improved communications in the world can't make the person you're with be a different person. If your partner wants something other than what you want, (or simply IS something other than what you want) you either have to accept it or move on.This seems kind of "duh"-y, but it'll sneak up on you.No matter what relationship you're in, there will come a time or two or forty when you realize you have very different ideas about something. You'll want one thing and your partner will want another.In my first marriage, we spent a lot of time figuring out how to communicate, how to compromise, how to find common ground in those situations. Yay for us.But...if we were so good at figuring that out, why were we still so unhappy?Ah-ha! Because there is ANOTHER part!What we didn't realize for far too long, what no one told us, was: Okay, yes. All relationships require compromise. But there is such a thing as too much compromise.It's great if you can be all honest and forthright about how you feel in any given situation, but what if your partner seems to never want what you want?I knew of a woman whose husband couldn't do anything right. He mishandled bill-paying. He was a bad driver. He went about vacation planning all wrong. He couldn't even load the dishwasher properly. The list went on and on and on.Of course, what this really meant is that he wasn't doing things the way she would have, or the way she wanted him to do them. These were all just surface-level issues, but they all pointed to the same thing: he wasn't what she wanted him to be.I know plenty of couples who have very little in common, who come at everything from almost entirely opposite perspectives, and who absolutely delight in each other's differences. But the flip side of that is exhaustion -- feeling like everything is a compromise, and that every compromise is a struggle. You wish that just once you didn't have to "put up with" something to get your desired result.And all of this is my long-winded way of saying it's not, actually, always easy to recognize it; sometimes we get too deep in. Sometimes the little things that bug us are really just the little things. But sometimes they're not.You have to be honest about the difference. And it's probably a good idea to move on if you (allow yourself to) realize you're angry at your partner for simply being who he or she is.You will both be happier for it.* * * * * * * *Okay, so yes? No? Do you agree or am I nuts? Am I missing a big point in here?Also, is this stupid for me to be blogging about?* * * * * * * *~ Previous entries you might want to read ~Related to this post: The one at the beginning of my divorce story where I realize my husband will never want to go to the stupid party with me. From the archives, mid-February two years ago: A post about PORN CHARADES! With no pictures because I accidentally renamed them all in Flickr. Oops. (But rules for Porn Charades can be found in the comments!)

A little scrapping and some hot chocolate

That about sums up the contents of this post!I have not scrapped a lot lately - my mojo seems to have been on holidays somewhere.....but it does seem to be creeping back in, thanks to the wonderfully inspirational Ali Edwards. For the last 2 years she has created a 'December Daily' journal - a visual and tactile treat, to record the daily events of December whether Christmas related or not. So this year I have decided that I am going to do this too. In fact I have already prepared the 'bones' of the album using lots of old supplies and the trusty crop-adile, have stocked up a little on some new Christmassy supplies and am ready and raring to go. (I will photograph and upload what I have done so far tonight).The process of doing this has really inspired me and I feel like scrapping just for fun for the first time in quite a while. It's a bummer about work!~! I would rather be home scrapping at the moment.On the weekend my girl & I went to the local shops and while there we had a little brunch in one of the many cafes there. I love doing this - it's so nice to have this time with Rebecca and to see how much she enjoys this 'grown up' type of activity. She loves a hot chocolate and this was no exception. Luckily I had my trusty point & shoot camera in my bag to capture the froth moustache. Rebecca was trying to drink this so carefully as it was so beautifully presented and she didn't want to spoil it.Today I did my first bit of Christmas decoration shopping - I don't decorate my home until 1 December but I love the process of collecting the goodies. I love the over the top country style of Christmas decorating seen in many American home design magazines and every year I have been buying a few more pieces to build up my collection. I am also making more. Stay tuned. Now I am off to watch the Melbourne Cup - I know nothing about racing but it's a fun social experience anyway!(Edited to add pics of December Daily journal - I did say it was just the bones at this stage - I am going to decorate the cover soon!)

To Disclose or Not

I just started a new job, hence the decrease in posts, and I find myself in an odd situation. My supervisor wrote a letter announcing my arrival and briefly stating my past experience and expertise. It was a nice thing to do and a well-written letter. Many of my employees have read the letter and commented on it already.Mentioned in the letter and relevant to the job, is my foster care work. Though I'm not working directly in foster care, the overlap between foster care and my job makes it worth mentioning. The thing is, most people only get into foster care because they were a foster kid or knew a foster kid. People always seem to want to know which it was for me. In my last job, it was known to pretty much all of my colleagues that I grew up in care and I was okay with that. I'm not sure that I want to tell everyone at my new job though. For starters, in my last job, I was encouraged to socailize with my colleagues, thus making it okay to disclose more personal information about myself to them. Here, I am a supervisor and socializing with employees outside of work has been discouraged by my boss. My thought is, if I am not to hang out, perhaps I am to keep my personal life to myself in general. This won't be easy, since I have only been there a week and some of my employees have already started asking about my background. What am I supposed to say if they ask how I got involved in foster care? If I don't disclose that I was in foster care, they may still figure it out, since I am only 24, but having over two decades of experience advocating for a person with disabilties helped land me this job. If I explain that my mom is disabled and lives in a home for people with disabilties, a smart person will put two and two together to realize I was in foster care. Also, I do trainings for foster parents on the weekends and frequently have articles published in magazines, newspapers and on-line. I am fully identifiable by the accompanying photo and/or biography. Once they figure out I was a foster child, they might assume I had solely negative foster care experiences, since I did not disclose this in the first place. I am far from ashamed that I was in foster care, but I wonder if it would be unprofessional to disclose such personal information to my employees. It feels like it might be crossing some invisible line.My husband disagrees. His opinion is that being a foster kid and the child of a person with a disability are job credentials in this case and thus it is okay to state those facts. In his opinion, making this information known will only make it more clear to my staff and others with whom we interact as a company that I have the kind of know-how and compassion needed to do my job. It will send the message that I care about vulnerable people and will not accept things that are not in their best interests.I'm not sure yet what I will do. If I do not disclose, this will be the first time in my life that I have not done so. I have always been very upfront about it in school, at other jobs and with friends. I have taken every opportunity possible to educate people about foster care and recruit people to be foster parents if I think they would be good at it. On the one hand, it makes me feel good to enlighten people about foster care and potentially bring more people into the circle. On the other hand, I've always felt a little bit exposed by disclosing my past. It might be nice to not feel emotionally naked for a while.

gave birth

Today is Sarah's 6 month birthday. Really where has the time gone? I can't believe it's already been 6 months since I gave birth to this precious little miracle! While in actuality 6 months isn't a long time, it does seem like she's always been here. Those of you who have children probably know what I mean. While she is new, she fits so perfectly in the family that it's like she's always been around. This is a time of great reflection for me. I think back to those days when we didn't think we would be able to have more children and to that day when I found out I was expecting. I remember those first few weeks home with her and all the adjustments that had to be made. And now to today, all the things she can do and who she is. She's found her feet She loves to jump. She could jump for hours. Even when she starts to get tried of it she still jumps while she's whining to get out.She's found her thumb. The little stinker :) She such a mix of both our older girls, it's amazing! We wondered, when we were expecting her, what she would be like because Abigail and Leah are complete opposites. Well we got a little of both of them in her. She loves her sisters! She thinks they are so funny especially Abbi. The girls are great with her and are so helpful. The most wonderful thing I love about her is her snuggliness. She loves to rest her head on my shoulder/chest and she loves it when we are cheek to cheek and I talk to her. She giggles this most wonderful giggle. I can't thank the Lord enough for her. And during this time of the year when we celebrate Christ's birth I also thank Him for sending His son to die for us.

Sky-Terra

Sky-Terra

Donna Hay's Apple Pie

Every single time I pick up a Donna Hay magazine or a Donna Hay recipe book, I end up with a very strong urge to bake or cook everything that's featured in it. Most of the time, I actually do end up baking something. There's a certain magic that her books have. Everything from the way the recipes are written, to the clear concise instructions to the plain and simple yet so delectable photos. Everything about her books just make you want to pick up the spatula and start churning out baked goodies.When it comes to Donna Hay, I have no complaints. I only have praise. Today is another of those days where I say more good things about Donna Hay. I haven't baked much this year so I was clearly suffering from a serious baking deficit disorder. So much so that the moment I started baking two apple tarts for the two Christmas parties that I attended, I must have let my guard down and got bitten. Yes, by the baking bug. It's a very good thing I insist. My friends will agree and I'm sure my family won't protest.The joys of baking, the immense pleasure derived when your prepared baked good goes into the oven to complete its life cycle. Then there's the nose twitching knee jerk reaction whenever the prized baked good lets out the most irresistable aroma. Till this day, I still literally jump and run to the oven the moment my nose picks up on the toasty, buttery, lip smacking smell that charges through the old rusty Moulinex. I get high on these buttery smells.Flipping through a Donna Hay recipe book gives me that same high. I can picture myself with the finished baked good and looking very happy. I imagine Donna Hay giving me an approving nod and a thumbs up sign. I am also very optimistic because I think every thing I bake using her recipe will end up looking as beautiful as the ones pictured in her book. I'm an easy sell I think. But it's okay.Yesterday I couldn't help but flip through my Donna Hay Modern Classics Book 2. This one has to die for cookies, biscuits, slices, small cakes, cakes, desserts, hot puddings, pies and tarts. The first page got me so excited and by the time I reached the end of the book, I was hyped up and on a high. I wanted to bake something. I wanted something that would make me very happy.And there it was on page 157, and it spoke to me:An apple pie it was. I must say it was the photo in the book that had me sold. It looked just like the ones Enid Blyton always had by the window sill, in all her story books. Enid Blyton was my literary crack when I was a child and I have not forgotten. I had never made a pie as well. The only thing close was the apple tart. But tarts are different from pies.So after getting my groceries, I started prepping. I made the sweet shortcrust pastry, refrigerated it for 30 minutes. I cooked the granny smiths and let it cool. When it was time to lay out the pastry, I went round looking for a pie tin. Then I realised I only had a tart tin. Pie tins and tart tins are different things. But time was running out and I had no time to get a pie tin so I made do with my tart tin.Laying down the pastry case ove the apples was a challenge. I had to be careful not to tear it. This recipe also called for some egg wash and sugar (to sprinkle over the pastry).Here's the pie out of the oven:I couldn't help but help myself to the first slice. It was really good. The apples were slightly tart but it was good with the pastry.Now all that's missing is a scoop of good vanilla ice cream.