'You know why I think there should be ten children in The Family?' said E (let's give her a name, shall we? Even though most all of you know her name. Let's call her Elfine, as from Cold Comfort Farm) just now.
'Because it would be a lot faster to clean up if there were ten children' she said.
I guess, but it would be a lot of work to have, as in give birth to, ten whole children. Elfine has been obsessing about The Family-how many of us are in it, what we're going to do next, the rules under which we all operate.
I've been obsessing about everything else, most particularly the future. This, combined with the absence of a reasonable computer, has inhibited my blogging abilities, or rather, completely hobbled them.
Much as I know I ought not be anxious about anything because my Heavenly Father cares for me so that I lack nothing etc. etc. bla bla bla, it is a trial and struggle to live every day as if that were true. I achieve it by moments, fleeting smattering moments interrupted by long periods of anxious worry.
The fact of the matter is, I don't want to put all of this in cyber space-'THIS' being the subject that concerns us day by day.
Are bishops good or bad?
Does God like bishops?
Will we Win? or will the bishop Win? (accompanied by pictures of sword wheeling bishops in front of castles with dragons and churches and black clouds)
If the bishop wins, what will happen next?
I could relate all of the questions, and their possible answers, and all the conversations and pictures drawn...but...I don't want to.
As we struggle along day by day in school, dining room table scattered with books and timeline cards and paper and crayons, and tea, honey, cinnamon rolls, oatmeal cookies, toast, bananas (what is it with the FOOD that has be consumed while studying-one vast tea break lasting from the end of breakfast to the beginning of supper), crumbs, blocks, knights and princess scattered far and wide over the floor, R (let's give him a name too, shall we? How about Romulus. These, of course, are subject to change as my whimsy takes me.) lying full length on the dining room table as we try to work, marker in hand, waiting to write and read and speak.
'What's that?' he points to my book
'What's that?' he points to my hair.
'What's that?' He holds up a cookie.
And so the long day wears on.
And the laundry piles up and the snot rolls out of all their noses and we wait and wonder what will happen next.
In the meantime, we'll probably go out into the snow and wind to buy milk, eggs, butter and juice. And later I will get to that tag (sorry I'm being to slow). And after that I will start making Christmas presents. And this evening I will start trying to butter Matt up into letter us go with him to this
(h/t Matt, Anglican TV, the whole world who woke up and got there before me)
And then I want to get to that question from long ago, about what we do for prayer in school. I've been trying to get my wretched machine to spit out the nice little cards I worked up to help us with this. I intend to post them and talk about our very nice Morning Payer routine. But right now I'm going to go look for a sweater because the snow has come upon me Too Early.