Modesty Surveys

http://www.therebelution.com/modestysurvey/browse
This is a very interesting survey amongst guys ages twelve and up.  Very worth checking out!
This, also, is an interesting video on the same subject.
This is so important!
http://www.thekingsbride31.blogspot.com/

Video of Friday's Storm

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhFxCA9ahWo

This is just the outskirts of the Storm, but still epic.  (Notice that around here people capitalize the 's' in Storm).   The people in the background are shocked that it's "So bad", but really, compared to what it was when it got to Danbury and my place, it's absolutely nothing. In the video, you see a huge mass literally moving over the town.  This was in the cities area.  By the time it got to my house, it had picked up to 80mph.  I was there, but I still can't help feeling shocked.  And this is just the beginning! 

God, you are great! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgvChz9cpyo

This one is mostly severed pine forests and fallen trees, plus a down power line.  It is just a tour of wreckage.

Inside An 80 mph Wind Storm

I guess my biggest summer news is that I almost died on July first. 

Hail Stones.  Not the largest by any means.

The barn I was in.

Side view of barn.

Explanation:  I was milking at Sheldon Nelson's, and it had been a 95 degree day, right?  So, it follows that I was hot and prayed for rain. (I was outside bringing in the cows).  So, 6 drops fell on my head.  Then nothing. 

After about 10 minutes, it started pouring.  And hailing.  I heard God tell me that, for some reason, I needed to cradle my head and neck in my hands.  So I did, and not even a second later, a golf-ball sized hailstone hit my arm covering my neck.  Ouch! 

For about half an hour or so, we milked (soaking wet).  Just the two of us were there, and I was starting to get nervous.  Because, you see, there was constant thunder rolling in the distance, the cows were acting funny, the rain had stopped, the sky was green, it was too humid, and the air smelled funny.  Not to mention it was dark as night, not black though, more of a forest green.  The power went out and came back on within a second.  This happened 3 times.  Finally, the fourth time, it stayed off.  Suddenly, the rain was back, harder than ever.  I could see nothing, and it was only seven o'clock.  I just stood there, not having any other choice.  Now, Sheldon is one laid back guy.  He NEVER panics or is upset about anything.  So when he hollered (panicked tone), "ERICKA WHERE YA AT?!?!" I freaked out.  He told me to run for the stairs, so I did, right behind him.  We tried to escape the barn, but we realized that the winds were gonna suck us out of the window.  So, he turned, and in an effort to save both of our lives, he shoved me down the staircase.  I hit my head on the railing or something, and passed out.  I rolled the rest of the way down the stairs, bumping and bruising and scraping blood vessels all the way.  I woke up with Sheldon pushing me up towards the door of the engine room, a small 6 by 8 foot room with no windows.  I was soaking wet, I couldn't hear anything over the roaring wind.  I sat against the west wall like he told me too, stuck my head between my knees, covered my spinal cord with my arms, and cried.  The reason I did this was that I could hear roaring wind, calves and calf huts and debris blowing around, and Sheldon outside yelling at cows.  Plus, I could feel the ceiling above me (the floor of the first story) starting to give, so I figured I needed to protect my head and spinal cord.

I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, and was cold and more scared then I have ever been before.  I could not feel any pain yet, I was just numb all over.  I cried and cried and cried some more.  Sheldon came back in, and I asked him if we were safe, if we would live, if we were gonna make it. 

His response?   "I hope so."  I cried quietly and he left to shove some more cows out. 

I only had peace in that dark room twice.  Once, when I stopped, calmed down, and realized, I am going to die.  I knew I was going to, and Sheldon did too.  He was acting unlike himself, actually running for safety instead of being daring and reckless, like usual.  I sat and thought for a few minutes.  If we were going to die anyway, why panic?  I'm ready, I'll just go to be with Jesus.  For a couple minutes, the fear subsided and I prayed something like this: "Jesus, I don't care that I don't get to work at camp this summer.  It means nothing.  I don't care about the petty arguments with my sister and who wins anymore.  It means nothing.  I regret all of this.  Please, Jesus, let Sheldon make it out of that stanchion room.  I know I won't live, but let him and his boys live.  Please, Jesus, let it be quick, without much pain." 

Then I wrapped my head in my arms again, and cried softly.  After awhile, the fear of dying was there, and I was panicking again.  I think Sheldon wasn't feeling great either.  Suddenly, (this whole time I had been listening to beams cracking and walls splitting) the entire barn collapsed.  I screamed, but I couldn't even hear it.  It was that loud.  I jumped up, panicked, then fell back down again, cuz I figured I had a better chance (if one at all) curled up in a ball than standing.  Then, (this was the second time I felt peace), I had a weird almost out of body experience where I suddenly (with my eyes open!) saw myself laying in a heap on the wet concrete, then suddenly I saw Jesus wrapped around me in such a way that if the roof caved, it would land on Him.  I cried softly, calmed down, and relaxed a little, knowing this was a vision, but thinking that it was sort of a comfort for death. Suddenly, death wasn't quite as scary anymore.  Almost welcome, just to escape the emotional pain I was feeling.  I felt a sudden urgency (I had felt this all the time) to pray for Sheldon's sons.  I did, then suddenly, as the barn was still collapsing, I saw the ceiling above me (the first story, I was in a basement) totally shift 6 inches off the concrete base.  Now, at least, could see.  I felt faint hope, because for one, I could see.  After half an hour of sitting in complete darkness by yourself, you cling to daylight.  For two, the wind had slowed down to a really bad thunderstorm.  That's pretty good for last night.  And three, Sheldon was yelling for me to come out.  I went out, surveyed the damage, the fallen trees, etc.   Then, he said to go back down, cause more winds came.  I went back, but first, I risked injury or death to rescue some kittens that fell out of the loft when it got ripped up.  They fell through a hole in the floor into the haystack in the basement.  I grabbed them, stuck the two of them in my shirt, and huddled back in the engine room.  Anyhoo, I ended up coming back out and looking around, then heading home. 

Those boys I was supposed to pray for?  They were about a mile down the road in a field, stacking bales in a tractor with their Grandpa.  They had a bale on the front of the tractor, and a gust of wind hit them, then the bale shredded.  That was when they decided to head for cover.  They all ran for the gas station next to the field, but it was locked.  So they ran for a bunch of bales they had stacked.  They crawled between the big bales and waited out the storm....they are thankfully all well. 

The injury around here is at 39 people, with more barns and houses down then I can count.  Our house has some shingles stripped from it, and a couple of trees down.  Also, our corn crib got shoved about 2 feet of its base.  My personal injuries are a huge scrape down my leg, headaches from hitting my head, and a very bruised backbone.  That's nothing compared to Mackenzie Clair, a girl from Hinckley, who was walking to her Grandmother's, trying to find shelter, and a tree fell on her.  She was 11 years old.

Milking. Whoo hoo.

Last week I started my second-ever summer job.  Milking for the neighbor!  Me and two of my sisters started working there, with nameless parent, and his three boys, age (11), age (10), and age (8).  I've been having a fun time, dippin tits and wiping bags and attaching milkers.  Shannah, on the other hand, loves the work, but does not have the same feelings for her co-workers.  Translation:  two out of three of them have a horrible crush on her.  I worked Tuesday, (Shannah worked Monday) and when I got there, age 8 walks into the barn and says, "Hi. *long pause* Soooo.....where's Shannah?"  I said, "She's at home."  He looked disappointed, then brightened.  "Soooo...when's she back?"  "Day after tomorrow."  He relaxed, grinned, and ran off.  So, Shannah gets there the next night, and immediately is not allowed to do anything.  Lifting buckets: "I'll do that."  Attaching milkers, "I'll do that too."  Now, if you know my sister, you'll know that she is a total spitfire, is a leader whether others want her to be or not, and says what she thinks before actually thinking about it.  This does not go well with when age 11 asked her, "So, who do you like better, me or age 8?  Which one of us is bossier?  On a scale of one to ten, which one do you like better?  Who's cuter?" 
My poor ten year old sister stepped back, and said "You're BOYS.  I don't really think you're cute!"
Hmm.  Poor boys.  They are still hitting on her a lot and running around shirtless for her benefit.
(Which, by the way, isn't really effective when you're eight).
Shannah has a history of young boys falling for her.  I have noticed that pretty much wherever she goes, someone falls for her.  It must be the freckles.  And, whenever that happens (which is frequently), she tells them off.  Once, we had some friends over, and they brought a friend with them.  This particular friend is a little girl-crazy.  Shannah finally got fed up with this boy, (we'll call him Bill) following her around and staring her.  She whipped around, cornered him, and said, "WHY are you following me around and staring at me and stalking me?!?! STOP IT NOW!!!"  Bill regained his composure and said, "You know what I do to girls that I like?  I follow them around and stare at them."  "So you like me then," she stated. "Yup." 
Now, I gotta hand it to that boy, he's got guts.  She did her Shannah thing where she twists her mouth up and nodded sarcastically.  "Hmm. Fine, but Mom is SO finding out."
He just hit on her again.  Mom finally came down on him and said, "Knock it off or leave."
My poor sis.

Maternity Hospital

Have I mentioned yet that me and my siblings (Eliza, Shannah, Wendy, Shane, Linnea) played some crazy games when we were little?  Once, my cousins were over, (Ashley, Isaac, Anna) and we decided to play maternity hospital.  Except there was once hitch.  We didn't want to just have a baby and leave.  So, we had a weird clinic where you had to come to the hospital once you found out you were pregnant, and you could leave when the baby turned two.  So, we found a nice little grassy area with trees placed in a line about 15 feet apart each.  We then placed a porch swing at the front of the line between two of the trees, and that was the receptionist's desk.  Now, what to do about rooms?  We took several snow sleds and horse blankets from the barn, and lots of sheets, blankets, and pillowcases from the house.  Then, we placed a sled at the bottom of each tree, and made the "bed" (which was the sled) with a horse blanket or two for a mattress, and blankets and sheets for....blankets and sheets.  The pillowcases were used to make a bunch of scraggly elementary school girls look pregnant.  I was the receptionist, ultrasound lady, doctor, nurse, surgeon, doula, midwife, maintenance man, laundry lady, maid, and counselor. 
Whew.  Each of the 5 girls playing (except me) were taken to their rooms, and I had a nice stack of baby dolls behind an unoccupied tree, just waiting until someone went into labor.  I bustled around, checking on women, then, alas, Ashley had a contraction!  I ran to her room, and said, "Ash, how far apart are your contractions?!"  The eight-year-old looked rather confused, and said, "Well, there's one here *points to elbow*, and one here *points to heel*. "  I heard a scream from the bed next to Ash.  Uh oh.  Shannah.  The  also eight year old looks at me and says, "HELP!  MY CONTRACTIONS ARE 3 INCHES APART!"  Panic swells the room as Anna, Wendy, and Liza all chime in about their various thumb contractions.  Shannah didn't know how to act like she was in labor, so she just sat halfway up and proceeded to have a seizure, screaming the whole time like here arms were being torn from her body.  Ahhh, drama.  They finally finished labor in about 10 minutes, so I went to distribute babies.  I looked behind me.  Uh oh.  The proud mothers all stopped, stared in shock, then started screaming.  You see, in all the laboring confusion, I did not keep an eye on the plastic dolls.  But someone else did.  The horrid sight before our eyes was Shane and Isaac, ages 6 and 4, running away with about 5 dolls tied by the feet to a stick they carried across their shoulders, yelling, "Hey, Isaac, let's go make soup!  HA HA HA!"
*Lots of screaming and yelling and laughing*.

Skating

We have never really been the skating type of family, but a couple of years ago, my sisters and I found a small frozen body of water by our house.  Huh, we thought, I've never seen this before...Oh, well, let's skate! 
Well, it wasn't long before we were sliding down that body of water that was flowing down a hill, (or so it seemed) before it froze.  We didn't really think to wonder about that, but we did wonder why the color was so bad, and why there were rock-like brown lumps frozen into it.  No matter.  We would just lick the ice until we melted all the way to a brown lump.  We did, and that was no rock.  It didn't taste like one.  We shrugged, and continued to do belly slides, getting soaked all the way, with our tongues out on the ice, licking all the way.  I was elected to go get Mom and see if she wanted to join the fun.  And we just couldn't figure out why she was angry.  You see, before the ground and "water" froze, our sewer pipe split and leaked down a hill, then froze. 
Mom had our poor 7 year old souls wash every inch of our bodies, and the garments arraying them. 
I wonder what those funny tasting brown rocks were?

Weird Things I Should Not Have Had To Say While Babysitting

1. Don't swing that croquet mallet at your brother's head!
2. Stop eating the grass!  You aren't really a horse!
3. Don't forget to get your doll out of the tree.
4. Put shoes on before you walk in the manure!
5. Hey!  Stop injecting air through a bike pump into the VCR!
6. No, we can NOT eat marshmallows for dinner.
7. I told you once, I told you a million times, do not hit your sister with a metal meter stick!
8. Hello, Mom, we have to take Wendy to the E.R. because Shane hit her with an air compressor hose. 
9. No, 6 year old boy, you may not drive the riding lawn mower around the puppy- and sister-filled yard.
10. Get your clothes back on, mister!  I have a video camera rolling!
11. No, darling 10 year old, you may NOT streak in the middle of January!
12. Alright, four and six year olds, strip down on the porch, run to the bathroom, and I will be in to turn the shower on cold in a moment.  You will also be scrubbing the floor later.  This will teach you not to swim in mud puddles. 
13. Never ever throw snowballs at 1800 pound bulls again, young lady!
14. Chickens are livestock, not toys.

More Haying Pictures

HOPE Picnic

Here I have posted all of the pictures I could find that would load of our HOPE (Helping Other Parents Educate) homeschooler picnic.  It was a great time, lots of playing Nukum and eating hot dogs.  These particular pictures, though, are of the Fire Tower in St. Croix Park.

Me and my buddy Lynae

My buddy Lynae again

Lynae's brother, Toby, at the very top of the tower

Mr. Armstrong almost to the top

Me at the top of the tower

Mr. Buzo and Lynae at the very top

Posting these was rather difficult, and a lot of the pictures that I attempted to load did not.  So, here are the few I was able to come up with. 

Haying, I Mean, Mowing the Lawn

The picture quality's not great, but at least you have some idea...

Recently, our lawn mower broke.  Huh.  This means, that, on June 11, we mowed the lawn for the first time all year.  So, naturally, the lawn was up to just below my hip.  We finally did get our lawn mower fixed, and then it couldn't handle the lawn.  So my dad brought in the hay rake.

Linnea (age 4)

So, my dad spent all day yesterday raking hay, and heaping it up into piles with pitchforks, and hauling it out to dry it.  This is sad!

Our yard.....

About a third of our lawn clippings.

Me, Wendy, and Linnea playing in the hay.

The Haybine did not get the grass short enough, so we are going to have to mow over it all again with the regular mower. 

City Girls + Fish Guts = Colossal Fun!

Two years ago, some city girl friends of ours came to our house.  They were so excited, they thought it was so wonderful that we have an actual farm with more animals than a house cat.  They are SO much fun to laugh at after they leave.  Well, on this particular time, they (Ally and Tori) decided that the cow manure and "urine" was too icky, so we should go for a walk.  OK, fine.  So we went down to the crick by our house, only intending to walk.  We got down there, however, and found a nice little treat: the crick was chock-full of 30ish dead fish, some cleaned, some not.  We grabbed our sticks, and set to re-fishing.  Hey, recycling!

The girls working on the fish.

Wendy, Tori

Gills!

We spent almost two hours pulling mangled walleyes out of the crick, then brought them up to our house.  Oh, the mothers we're SO happy!  Especially the city mom!    We dissected them, pulled their eyeballs out and squished the juice out of them, etc.  Don't tell me farm girls don't know how to have fun!

Dryads

Today, as I stood on a large tower surveying the countryside, and I was inspired by it to write here about Dryads.  Dryads, for those of you who don't know, are tree nymphs.  I have been inspired to write about what they look like.  I see them as ladies with brown or dark green dresses, flowy ones, with jagged edges like ripped paper.  They always have long hair, of any color really, with leaves in it.  Now, the leaves are a story in themselves.  If you happen to spot a Dryad, (which you won't unless you're paying attention and really looking for them, with the right intentions), you should know that the leaves of a very young Dryads are yellow, and the leaves of middle-aged Dryads are brown, and only the leaves of very very old Dryads are a fiery red.  If you happen to see one with red leaves, let me know.  They are extremely rare.  There have been only three sightings in the past 1500 years!

I have a question.  Have you made peace with your fairies yet?  I have to do that yet today.  Just take a branch off of a pine tree, set it by your porch, and wait.  If it turns orange, you are welcome on your own property, and the fairies and dryads will defend and protect you from the white-robed elves for the rest of your days.  In case you change and turn to a life of crime, and the fairies henceforth reject you, renew this gesture every ten years.  However, if it stays green for 10,000 years, you must leave the property immediately (permanently) or else they will sic the Centaurs on you, and the Centaurs will kill you.  So keep your fairies happy.

Robin Hood vs Nazis!

When I was about 4 years old, I saw the animated movie, Robin Hood.  That was when I decided that I was going to be Robin Hood when I grew up.  I also decided, that in the mean time, I might as well practice.  So, I donned my loincloth, and set about making a bow and arrow set.  Where I got the idea that Robin Hood wears loincloths I don't know.
I determined that my bow would be a plastic hanger, and my arrows would be colored pencils.  I held onto the hook, and drew back the plastic as far as it could go without breaking it, (OK, I broke some) loaded my pencils, and fired heavily at various domestic animals, parents, small sisters, etc.  I would then run around the house and whoop and holler like an Indian, and bribe people to play with me and be Maid Marian.  We would play this with the Sherveims.  That would lead to about 6 shirtless kids in loincloths whooping and hollering like the dickens.  

The Doorway--the ferns are the camo for the door.  See it?

Years later, when I was probably 12, the Sherveims came over.  We hadn't seen them in a long time, so we decided we were going to reminisce in the way of adding on to games we played years ago.  So, we went out to the woods, where we found a large patch of ferns.  We went back to the haybarn, and built a nice fort, then split into two teams.  Older kids would pick ferns 100 mph, and younger kids would continue on the fort.  We then used the ferns as camouflage, because, you see, we were hiding from the Nazis.  There were 11 kids playing.  We hid there for awhile, and then we decided that the Nazis were gonna  
                                                                                       show up.  So they did, and we performed this beautiful shooting scene, where we all died.  Then they "left" and we decided that that was too short and not romantic enough.  So, we redid it and this time, the Nazis came, and we ran for the woods with the small children.  On the way to our other hiding place, two people got shot, and we had to carry them.  When we finally escaped them, we all bedded down on potato sacks (it was about sunset by then) and proceeded to have an epidemic of Scarlet Fever.  Everyone had their own ideas as to what the symptoms were, so that was interesting.  One by one, they slowly and painfully died, and we had to "bury" them under bushes.  Me and Sadie were elected to be the faithful nurses and to selflessly care for and "bury" the "dead".  Then, in one final episode, we both got sick from a combination of exhaustion and Scarlet Fever exposure and died under the stars.  It was beautiful.                                                                                 

The actual inside, looking over the wall. The carpet is moss and ferns.

The tunnel entrance, with door pulled back.  Carpet is moss.

This is the large area that used to be waist-high in ferns. We cleared it out.

We Had A Baby!

My little sister's horse, Lacy, had a foal yesterday!  She was born during a thunderstorm, and we didn't even know it was happening!  My mom had to drive my dad to the farm, and on the way down, Dad saw a strange object in the pasture.  I have never seen the car drive up the driveway that fast since Dad was mad at some bulls.  (That time, though, he accidentally sideswiped mom's car).  We ran down there and pulled the horses (there are two, Lacy and Glory) up to their stall.  Lacy is Shannah's horse, and Shannah is ecstatic!  We thought we wouldn't be able to catch it, but she is sooo friendly and won't let us alone! 

Awwww.....

Kali is her name!

Proud Mama.

Froggy Queens

Today, we had some friends of ours over, the Sherveims, and we all went swimming.  It was so hot that the crayon we left out on the porch melted!  So, we went 6 miles down the road to Tamarack Lake.  It didn't take long before we realized, with the combination of plastic bags, potato chips, ant larvae we had been playing with, and lots and lots of minnows, we could easily go fishing.   
If you drove by Tamarack Lake that day, you would have seen about 12 children, with 8 of them involved in various activities such as:  hanging as far off the dock as possible without falling in, walking through shoulder-depth water with plastic bags for nets, diving and grabbing fish with their hands, and so on and so forth.  All of them were eating Girl Scout cookies and chips, while feeding the rest of the snacks to the fish.  Also, all were laughing and screaming.  
After about two hours of fishing and not catching a single minnow, we decided to catch frogs instead.  We (meaning me, Sadie, Isabel, Aubrey, and CeCe) went wading through knee-high swamp grass, mud, rotten logs, litter, old beer bottles here and there, and leaves, to find these frogs.  We (after much struggle) caught every frog we could find and put them all in a potato chip bag.  ( :
I, however, was not very gifted at the sport, and I chased a frog around in circles with the aid of a 6 year old in a swamp for several minutes.  I never did catch it. 
Surprisingly, we were not all that dirty when we came out.  The mud felt very good, and the 5 member Froggy Queens team conquered the 7 member Fishy Royalty team, as we caught and tortured (and killed some) 11 frogs, and they caught not one fish.  What's more, is that they had bait, and tackle (if you call plastic bags tackle), and we used our bare hands and not a stitch of bait.  And we STILL won. 
We got home, and decided to go outside once more and do a play.  This time it was just me, Sadie, Liza, and Shannah.  We did Parables from the Bible (dramatically, of course) with pizazz!  We did all we could to include as much drama as possible.  It was incredible!
 First we did the one with the man who is praying pridefully and dramatically in the Temple.  He is praying to get attention, and another man comes in and prays humbly, from his heart.  
I was the crazy proud man.  It was incredibly fun...
We then did the one where the old woman gave all she had (two coins) and was mocked for it.  I was the cameraman in that one.
In the next one, I was the man who mugged the guy who the Good Samaritan rescues.  I loved mugging my sister! 

Dating vs. Courtship

The difference between dating and courtship is huge.  I believe the latter, but this post is intended to start a debate, so feel free to yell at me in the comments box.  (No profanity, please).
My Observations on Dating by Mark Forstrom:
~The relationship usually begins with trying to impress the other person and trying to win him or her over, but the real person remains hidden behind a mask.
~The relationship is formalized by asking the other to "go out"--which is an undefined, temporary pseudo-commitment or contract of sorts.  In reality, the promise made is basically "I'll be somewhat loyal to you for now."
~ They rely on words like "I love you" and Facebook statuses and use pet names, flirting, teasing, good looks, and immodesty.  These are shallow ways to try to keep the relationship secure.
~ Life is much more stressful, complicated, and dramatic with so much riding on the status of the relationship.
~ They tend to become a clique of two, isolating themselves from others.
~ It becomes awkward to speak with or enjoy friendships with those of the opposite sex.
~ Old friends frequently become neglected or hurt, having been replaced by the boyfriend or girlfriend.
~ They often feel a sense of entitlement over the other person's time, attention, and body.
~ They experience great heartbreak and depression when they break up.  Both suffer, but the one who cared the most ends up the most wounded.

So what is the difference between dating and courtship?  Well, in a nutshell, three important keys to a biblical relationship which are often lacking in a dating relationship are these:
1. Marriage is the goal of the relationsip
Biblically, there is no reason to pursue a romantic relationship except for the purpose of marriage, thus entering into the relationship knowing that, yes, if God blesses this relationship, I intend to marry this person.  This takes the guessing-where-the-relationship-is-headed factor out.

2. The complete blessing of both sets of parents is given
God works through authorities.  Specifically in this area of marriage, it is so important to have the blessings of both sets of parents and their advice and guidance along the way.
This makes sure that your decision to court is not made by feelings, but on a good foundation.  This way, instead of two twitterpated brains thinking, you have four other solid brains.

3. The focus is on the spiritual vs. physical.
In courtship, the purpose is to build a strong spiritual relationship and save the physical entirely for marriage.
-Mark Forstrom, Sarah Mally

Courtship, as I define it, is Dating with commitment and the intention of marriage. 
Dating, as I define it, is a temporary relationship with no solid foundation and unsure intentions. 
If you disagree with me, that's fine.  I respect that. I personally define the dating process like this:
Fall in "love", date, give heart away, break up, get heart broken.  Repeat.
I want no part of this ever, thank you.

Abortion 101

Yesterday I was wondering, how exactly are abortions done?  Well, I looked it up, and here's what I got.

What are the first trimester surgical ones?
There are several types:
- Menstrual extraction:
This is a very early suction abortion, often done before the pregnancy test is positive.
- Suction-aspiration:
In this method, the abortionist must first paralyze the cervical muscle ring (womb opening) and then stretch it open. This is difficult because it is hard or "green" and not ready to open. He then inserts a hollow plastic tube, which has a knife-like edge on the tip, into the uterus. The suction tears the baby’s body into pieces. He then cuts the deeply rooted placenta from the inner wall of the uterus. The scraps are sucked out into a bottle (see color photo in back of book). The suction is 29 times more powerful than a home vacuum cleaner.
- Dilatation & Curettage (D&C):
This is similar to the suction procedure except that the abortionist inserts a curette, a loop-shaped steel knife, up into the uterus. With this, he cuts the placenta and baby into pieces and scrapes them out into a basin. Bleeding is usually profuse.
What are second trimester ones?
In the 1970s and ’80s the most common type was saline amniocentesis, or salt poisoning abortions.
These are not used much anymore because of danger to the mother. These are done after the 16th week. A large needle is inserted through the abdominal wall of the mother and into the baby’s amniotic sac. A concentrated salt solution is injected into the amniotic fluid. The baby breathes and swallows it, is poisoned, struggles, and sometimes convulses. It takes over an hour to kill the baby. When successful, the mother goes into labor about one day later and delivers a dead baby.
Is it actually poisoning?
Yes. The mechanism of death is acute hypernatremia or acute salt poisoning, with development of wide-spread vasodilatation, edema, congestion, hemorrhage, shock, and death. Galen et al., "Fetal Pathology and Mechanism of Death in Saline Abortion, Amer. Jour. of OB&GYN,1974, vol. 120, pp. 347-355
And other methods?
In the ’70s and ’80s, prostaglandin drugs were used to induce violent premature labor and delivery. When used alone, there was: "...a large complication rate (42.6%) is associated with its use. Few risks in obstetrics are more certain than that which occurs to a pregnant woman undergoing abortion after the 14th week of pregnancy." Duenhoelter & Grant, "Complications Following Prostaglandin F-2 Alpha Induced Mid-trimester Abortion." Jour. of OB & GYN, Sept. 1975
Because of these problems, the D&E or Dilatation & Evacuation method was developed and largely replaced the above. It involves the live dismemberment of the baby and piecemeal removal from below.
A pliers-like instrument is used because the baby’s bones are calcified, as is the skull. There is no anesthetic for the baby. The abortionist inserts the instrument up into the uterus, seizes a leg or other part of the body, and, with a twisting motion, tears it from the baby’s body. This is repeated again and again. The spine must be snapped, and the skull crushed to remove them. The nurse’s job is to reassemble the body parts to be sure that all are removed.
This sounds dangerous.
It is, but a report from the U.S. Center for Disease Control, Dept. HEW, stated that it is still safer for the mother than the salt-poisoning or Prostaglandin method. "Comparative Risks of Three Methods of Midtrimester Abortion," Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, Center for Disease Control, HEW, Nov. 26, 1976
It is reported that every year about 100,000 women are aborted by the D&E method, between 13 and 24 weeks gestation. Of this, 500 have "serious complications." This was still judged to have a "lower risk of morbidity and mortality than the infusion procedures." MacKay et al., "Safety of Local vs General Anesthesia for Second Trimester D&E Abortions" OB-GYN, vol. 66, no. 5, Nov.1985, p. 661
Any new methods?
Yes, intracardiac injections. Since the advent of fertility drugs, multi-fetal pregnancies have become common. "The frequency of triplet and higher pregnancies . . . has increased 200% since the early 1970s."
Since these are usually born prematurely and some have other problems, a new method has been developed. Assisted Repro. Techniques . . . , L. Wilcox, Fertl. & Sterility, vol. 65, #2, Feb. ’96, pg. 361
At about 4 months a needle is inserted through the mother’s abdomen, into the chest and heart of one of the fetal babies and a poison injected to kill him or her. This is "pregnancy reduction." It is done to reduce the number or to kill a handicapped baby, if such is identified. If successful, the dead baby’s body is absorbed.
Sometimes, however, this method results in the loss of all of the babies.
Are there 3rd trimester abortions?
A more recently developed method here is the partial birth abortion, also called "brain suction" or "D&X" methods.
- These are done after 4 or 5 months.
- 80% of babies are normal.
- Most babies are viable.
This is like a breech delivery. The entire infant is delivered except the head. A scissors is jammed into the base of the skull. A tube is inserted into the skull, and the brain is sucked out. The now-dead infant is pulled out.

One morning's work at a Canadian Teaching Hospital.

This is insane!  How can anyone ever believe that this is a "safe" and "merciful" and "painful" procedure?  The truth is is that they should not be calling it a "procedure" at all.  It is murder, hands down.  The breech delivery babies are 4 inches from being completely born, thus, 4 inches later, the Abortionist would be guilty of murder.  I call them "Abortionists" because they are not worthy of a prestigious title such as "Doctor" or "Physician".  I also call the places where the Abortions are preformed Abortion Mills, or Abortion Chambers.  Not clinics, because a Clinic is a place you go to be healed, and that is not the case with Abortion Mills.  50% of women who have an abortion later end up with Breast Cancer.   And never say "Pro-choice", unless you end this phrase with "...to kill".  Avoid using this in any other context like a plague. 

Join The Rebelution!

The Rebelution is a blog written by 19 year old average twin brothers who have a vision for this generation.  Here is their idea, as said in their book, Do Hard Things:
"Most people don't expect you to understand what we're going to tell you in this book.  And even if you do understand, they don't expect you to care.  And even if you do care, they don't expect you to do anything about it.  And even if you do something about it, they don't expect it to last.  WE DO.
....This book invites you to explore some radical questions:
~ Is it possible that even though teens today have more freedom than any other generation in history, we're missing out on some of the best years of our lives?
~ Is it possible that what our culture says about the purpose and potential of the teen years is a lie and we are its victims?
~ Is it possible that our teen years give us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for huge accomplishments--as individuals and as a generation?
~ And finally, what would our lives look like if we set out on a different path entirely--a path that required more effort but promised a lot more rewarding?
What we are challenging you to do is grab hold of a more exciting option for your teen years thatn the one portrayed as normal in society today.  This option has somehow gotten lost in our culture, and most people don't even know it.  In the pages ahead, you will meet young people just like you who have rediscovered the this better way--a way to reach higher, dream bigger, grow stronger, love an honor God, live with more joy--and quit wasting their lives.   
The word rebelution is probably new to you.  To be honest, we made it up.  We combined rebellion and revolution to form an entirely new word for an entirely new concept: rebelling against rebellion.  More precisely, we define rebelution as "a teenage rebellion against low expectations."

OK, this is me again.  I totally agree with these guys.  I am very tired of the "typical teenager" mold we are supposed to fit in.  Jesus did not say "Now go out into the world and be like everybody else", He basically said, "Break the mold!"  That is what I want to do.....I am reading their book now and trying to learn how exactly to do this.  For more information, go to www.therebelution.com

Emergency Rooms

I do not like emergency rooms.  I was in one Sunday night, for intense pain that turned out to be and intestinal wall infection, swollen lymph nodes, and an inflamed colon.  (By the way, two of my grandparents died from colon problems. Good to know).

Anyway, I got there, and the first thing they did was stick an IV in me.  Ick.  That was probably the most painful thing of all.  Emergency rooms are cold, white, and uncomfortable.  Lots of scary-looking appliances laying around.  Some people are claustrophobic, I have a weird fear of being tied to things.  Being attached to the IV thing was not good for me.  They then took me to a green room with other scary machines.  The smiling nurse with a name tag  that said "Deb" on it said "Alright, drop your pants to your knees."  Just like it was the most normal thing in the world.  I looked at her and said "Pardon?" "Just drop your pants, sweetheart." 

Sweetheart.  Humph.  Yeah, right.  I did what she said, laid on the table, and she placed a white cloth on me.  I immediately felt like I was getting an autopsy.  It is not a good feeling.  I focused on the sign above my head which had two little green men on it.  One had its mouth open very very wide, and the other had its mouth shut and its cheeks puffed out.  I observed them for a few moments.  Then I heard Deb in the background. "You'll have to hold your breath for about 20 seconds.  It is very important."  I panicked, already being a little thrown off from the pain.  I had several practice rounds, then she said, "Here is the real thing".   My bed went up about four feet, then started to go through a large tube, my feet first.  A bunch of machinery started going, and making lots of noise, and I went through the tunnel.  I heard an electronic voice say, "Breathe" then "Hold your breath". 

I did so accordingly.  The little green men on the sign lit up respectively. 

I was told this was a CAT scan, then the pain was so bad that I got wheeled back to my scary white cold room.

The doctor was gone for about an hour, while I sat in absolute boredom.  When he got back, he said, (He was Nigerian, so he couldn't speak English terribly well) "You do not have to go to Duluth, or have surgery, we think it is your colon and such, or it might be muusle spasms."  Yes, I know I spelled muscle wrong, but I spelled it how he pronounced it.  ( :  Moosles, huh? 

Thunderstorms

Yesterday, I decided that, because it was pouring and thundering, I would go for a walk.  So, I donned my medieval cape and began my quest down the drive.  I got to my destination, the creek, and stood on the bank, watching it swell, and wondering, "If I fall in, will I automatically drown, or will someone fish me out? And if so, who?  There's no one around for miles.  And if there is, it's weekend vacationing old people.  Not exactly an example of romanticism, whatever that is." 

So I wondered.  Then I began to sing.  Just because.   Then it really began to rain.  Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I had a burst of energy that drew me from my clouded morbidness.  I ran around, laughing and running as fast as I could.  It was a moment of insanity that I have not told anyone about until now.  But, hey, it was fun.  My cape was flying behind me, the flower in my hair was getting soaked, and I was happier than ever.  I almost slipped on the creek bank, so my moment of romantic morbidness almost came true.  

Anyway, I think I am the only one in my family that has an infatuation with thunderstorms.  My mom doesn't really care, my dad doesn't like them, and all the childrens are afraid of them.  Usually, if there is a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, my parents have at least three children in bed with them.  They draw the line at the ten and twelve year olds.  ( :  It's a little sad all the constant screaming and crying that happens at our house during thunderstorms, it's louder than the thunder. 

It generally ends up like this:  Dad in his recliner, Mom and 3 children in her bed,  2 older children screaming and crying and clinging to each other, me in my bed all by my lonesome, trying to sleep above the children's screaming (pillow over the ears works great). 

That Was Awkward.

My Dreams

To impact people unbelievably for Christ
To be the best I can possibly be for Him
To be involved in Youth Ministry
To love people enough to be Jesus with skin on to them
To return to New Orleans someday
To own a pickup truck that's jacked up above the wheels with double exhaust
To be a wife and mom 
To be a florist
To make my life count
To serve Jesus ultimately
To be completely holy and pure as unto Jesus
To have a ministry
To make a long-term missions trip to Crisis Response in New Orleans, LA
To bless people
To be a sunshine and a forever optimist
To always see outside myself 
To always remain a farm girl
To live each day as if it is my last, and, 
To have a love for Christ that encompasses all areas in my life so that when people see me, they see Jesus; to have a love for Christ that is so deep that I am able, through Him, to love everyone, even my enemies, as He has loved me; to grow my passion for people until it just comes out in anything and everything I do, to glorify Him; for every part of me to thirst and long for Jesus; to see myself and anything I do and ever will to as dirty rags compared to Jesus and knowing Him; to stay strong to all my convictions and to not cave under peer pressure but to be a light in the world and a sunshine for Jesus; yet to see all of this as dirty rags compared to Jesus.  

My Summer Projects

This summer, I have many projects lined up. I have recently learned that I will not be able to work at Grindstone Lake Bible Camp, and am extremely heartbroken about that fact.

But still, I have decided that this summer, I shall continue on two projects that I started a while back. One of them is writing my own language. I have decided to call it Nodlinoorian. It is from the ancient city Nodlinoor, obviously. This city has recently let out a plea to me, for they are not united, because years ago, they all were cast under the spell of an ancient war lord, named Hurnediis. (Pronounced Hernade-ies) This caused them to be divided, each group speaking a different language, and are still under the rule of Hurnediis to this day.(You see, he has drunk from the fount of Eternal Youth and Beauty, and has been around the age of 23 and a half for 3,000 years.) The only way they can possibly rebel and free themselves is if they unite under one tongue and join forces to fight the evil war lord. (Yes, I just came up with that now).So, I am writing a language for them. Once it is finished, I am leaving for Nodlinoor to help fight their battle against Hurnediis.

The other project is that I am writing a story. Basic story line:

Hannah Malchovich, spy and archaeologist, finds an undiscovered cave in the mountains. Or so she thinks. She brings her two closest friends up to the cave, and they explore the cave. They find that it is covered in writing in a nonexistent language, and embark on a dangerous journey to find the truth when they find mass burial mounds and other horrific things. Not to mention that the ground shifts whenever they touch a certain spot on the wall. But little do they know that an old man, who knows the truth, is watching them the whole time, with dangerous intent for whoever finds his secret.

New Orleans 2011

Yeah, I've been kind of avoiding this post, because, you see, there are a million things I want to say, but I am not too sure which ones to say.  Because, if I write the right ones, my ratings might go up too high and I would be put on Oprah or something, and that is not what I deem desirable, and if I write the wrong ones, I'll look stupid, among other things.  Never mind.
 Anyhoo, this spring a group of youth from my area went to New Orleans with the intention of painting houses and changing OTHER peoples lives.  Uh huh.  Sure.  We spent 22 hours in a smelly van full of teenagers, 14 girls and 14 guys.  Sound like fun?  It was incredible!  Before we left, our leaders kept talking about how we would bond a ton and other such stuff.  I thought, I think I already know all I ever want to know about these people, I'll stick with my close friends, not really talk to anyone else, and I'll be fine.  Yep.  Not gonna happen.  It turns out, you don't exactly get to choose who you sit by, and 15 passenger vans are extremely crowded, so you may very well end up like I did more than once: smashed between a wall and a guy you don't know very well.  I guarantee you, that was a brotherly bonding moment!
One of the first days there, a pastor from the Church we were staying at asked us what our expectations for this trip were.  I thought about it, and here is what I came up with.  No kidding, this is what I expected.  I expected:
1. For New Orleans to be basically a slightly larger Sandstone with a house that needed work here and there.
2. For the houses to still have water in them. (My logic: If the people left before the water got there, and never came back, and no one opened the doors or the windows, how was the water to escape?)
3. Not to have any fun whatsoever.
4. Not to be changed all that much.
5. For the people I was with, particularly the older kids, to be mean to me and stick up their noses at me like last summer (This did not happen, it must have something to do with being in a crammed 15 passenger van).
6. Not to hang out with the people I did.
7. Not to bond terribly much with people.
8. To be bored on the car ride.
9. To sleep on a hard floor.
10. For it to be about 50 degrees.(Ha! Not! 80 in the shade!!!)
11. Not to cry for the people (and I did, sadly).
12. Not to make new friends.
13. For the people there to hate us.
So there you have it!  And you know what, none of these expectations were true!  It was incredible!

I think another big thing I learned, besides all those mentioned above, was that I never knew how much I complained.  Because really, what in the world do I have to complain about?  I have a warm house, food, and a family that loves me, not to mention amazing friends. I have learned to say that that is all I need.
I also was told quite often by my friends that I am "sheltered" "stupid to the world" "uncorrupted" "too innocent" and "need to get out of home school" not to mention "will be shell-shocked in college"  "will never find a husband (like I need to find one)" and "should be shown more of the world".   Not sure how to take that.  Oh, well.  I'm just having fun laughing my hide off at them because of what they think is important.  LOL.

We painted and drywalled for 5 days, and then spent 22 more hours in vans.  Don't get me wrong, it was amazing!  All said, I learned a ton and will never be the same, in ways that I cannot express on paper. Thank you to all of those who supported me on this trip, both in funds and in prayer.

John Deere Green

 My new favorite song!  It's adorable!  Link to the video on the bottom of the post...I love this song.

They were farm kids way down in Dixie
They met in high school in the sixties
Everyone knew it was love from the start
One July in the midnight hour
He climed the water tower
Stood on the rail and painted a 10ft heart
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said that he should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

They settled down on 80 acres
Raising sweet corn,kids and tomaters
They went together like a hand and a glove
On a clear day from their front yard
If you look and know what to llok for
Off to the east you can still read his words of love
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said the boy should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

Now more then once the town has dicovered
Painting over it ain't no use
There ain't no paint in the world that'll cover it
The heart keeps showing through
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said that the fool should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

Ahh,paint it green boy
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said the boy should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

John Deere green
They were farm kids way down in Dixie
They met in high school in the sixties
Everyone knew it was love from the start
One July in the midnight hour
He climed the water tower
Stood on the rail and painted a 10ft heart
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said that he should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

They settled down on 80 acres
Raising sweet corn,kids and tomaters
They went together like a hand and a glove
On a clear day from their front yard
If you look and know what to llok for
Off to the east you can still read his words of love
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said the boy should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

Now more then once the town has dicovered
Painting over it ain't no use
There ain't no paint in the world that'll cover it
The heart keeps showing through
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said that the fool should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

Ahh,paint it green boy
In John Deere green

On a hot summer night
He wrote Billy Bob loves Charlene
In letters 3 foot high
And the whole town said the boy should have used red
But it looked good to Charlene
In John Deere green

John Deere green
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8gSJtYae8bQ

You see, I am a total romantic, and I think the greatest vehicle ever made is a tie between the John Deere Tractor and the Huge Pickup Truck.  I am dead sure that my first car will be the biggest pickup I can find, with oversized tires, two exhaust pipes up above the cab, etc.  My only disappointment with that dream is that, legally, I have to have a muffler.  Shoot. 
I have also been informed that I have to choose between exhaust pipes and no muffler.  They don't coincide.
Rats.  Which reminds me of another song.

Pickup Man
Well I got my first truck, when I was three,
Drove a hundred thousand miles on my knees
Hauled marbles and rocks, and thought twice before
I hauled a Barbie Doll bed for the girl next door
She tried to pay me with a kiss I began to understand,
There's just something women like about a PickUp Man

When I turned sixteen, I saved a few hundred bucks
My first car was a Pickup Truck
I was cruisin' the town and the first girl I seen
Was Bobbie Jo Gentry the homecoming queen
She flagged me down and climbed up in the cab, and said
"I never knew you were a Pickup Man!"

You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I've got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man

Most Friday nights, I can be found
In the bed of my truck on an old chaise lounge
Backed into my spot at the drive-in show
You know a cargo light gives off a romantic glow
I never have to wait in line at the popcorn stand,
'Cause there's just something women like about a pickup Man

You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
But I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I've got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man

A bucket of rust, or a brand new machine
Once around the block and you'll know what I mean

You can set my truck on fire, and roll it down a hill
And I still wouldn't trade it for a Coupe DeVille
I've got an eight foot bed that never has to be made
You know if it weren't for trucks we wouldn't have tailgates
I met all my wives in traffic jams,
There's just something women like about a Pickup Man

Yeah, there's something women like about a Pickup Man.

Owww, Drive that pickup son...
That's right..

Amen!
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=pickup+man&aq=f

The Great Cootie War

DISCLAIMER: The names of the people in this story have been removed to protect the very guilty.
Yes, I remember the great cootie war.  Who doesn't?  It was the solace of my life, the entire meaning thereof, until I turned 13.  Then I had a horrible realization that, maybe, just maybe, cooties DON'T ACTUALLY EXIST.  Imagine that!  But before that is where the real story lies.
You see, I was an intense captain of the girl's team in the Cootie War.  Our family went to a Church almost totally consumed by the male species, and I was one of the few girls there, so I figured that it was my job to exterminate the congregation.  I had two other ladies with me, one of which was the "Let's kill 'em, who cares if we get in trouble" type, and one was of the "No, no, we might get spanked" type.  I was in between, though I more often tended to be of the troublemaker type. 
We would wait and wait for Church to end each Sunday so that we could run outside.  The infested race always beat us to the playground, so the whole setup (swings, slides, ladders, fort, etc.) belonged to them.  We got the corner by the gate.  They would stand in the fort and mock us cruelly,  while we would stand on the ground and mock them cruelly.  It was quite funny to watch. 
One of the worst (but of course the most fun) endeavors we attempted was when the worst troublemaker of our group happened to find a ladder, a bucket, and water.  Recipe for disaster.  It went something like this:
1. Coax a boy to stand underneath the rain gutter.
2. Stand ladder against wall while distracting male specimen.
3. Fill bucket with water and ice.
4. Keep boy distracted.
5. Crawl up ladder.
6. Dump water down gutter on boy's head.
7. Run.
8. Get spanked and go home.
9. Revel in mission accomplished and sore bottoms.
Do you see now how amazing my life was from age 3-12?  I was terrible, and it's probably best that I was homeschooled. 

Your Royal Wedding Guest Name

Your guest name for the wedding is constructed as follows: 
1. You are a Lord if you are a guy, a Lady if a girl.
2. Your first name is the name of one of your grandparents.
3. Your middle name is a combination of the name of your first pet and the name of the street you grew up on, hyphenated.  Example: Buster-Elm.
My royal name is: Lady Betty Bob-Horseshoe.

Cute Video

This is adorable!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Nh49a8q2E4

"Do you know why I became a pilot?"
"No, why?"  "For the fun of it.  Why else would anyone do anything?"
-Amelia Earhart

20 Random Things That Make Me Smile, In No Particular Order

1. Friends
2. The thought of my future flower shop
3. The thought of my future children (hopeful)
4. Bath and Body Works
5. Bubble Baths
6. Chocolate
7. Flowers
8. Good books
9. Babies
10. Rain
11. Dancing in the rain
12. Poetry
13. Chick Flicks
14. Jazz
15. Floor hockey!
16. Pasta
17. The thought of one day returning to New Orleans (I miss it soooo bad!)
18. Comedians
19. Social Events (...any social event, for that matter....)
20. Writing silly dramatized fiction short stories

Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass. It is about learning to dance in the rain.

A boy writes a letter to God.
"Dear God, why do you let such terrible things happen in our schools?"
God answered, "Because, son, I'm not allowed in your schools anymore."

Never Take A Dare

I guess I should talk.  I took an extremely stupid dare today.  My cousins were over, and we decided to play Dare.  (we are not allowed to play truth or dare, but we figured Dare was ok).  We made Dare teams: Eliza and Ashley, Ericka and Shannah.  We took turns daring each other to do certain things, and if they didn't, they had to do such and such a thing.  We played this in an alley between two huge feedlots, each stacked (literally) 18 inches deep in poop.  A veritable breeding ground for dares!  Ash and Liza had to walk the length of the feedbunks, balancing on the edge of the aforementioned, which was about an inch thick, without falling off.  They did, so they had to (in penance) climb INTO the feedbunks and crawl 20 feet down them inching like a worm. They did it without complaint. After all, it could have been worse. 
So, after various dares, like hanging upside down for 20 seconds straight, riding our little colt that bucks if you put a blanket on him (we did not do that one), singing "I Love You More" to the cattle as loudly as you can (we didn't do that either), and hanging off a rope ladder and singing (this one was in bad taste, this was not my idea), "Burp and Barf and eeeeeeeeeeee..." (Hold the eeeeee for ten seconds, please)  We got to me and Shannah's dare. Walk through three feet of poop wearing our good tennis shoes.  I did it. 
My mother was shocked to see me come running in the house barefoot, saying "Don't worry, Mom, they got my shoes out."
And I am surprised we did. We all gave a shriek, envisioning what our mothers would say.  Or do.
So I ran through 18 inches of poop barefoot. Serves me right. As I was approaching the feedbunks to get out, I heard Ashley gasp with delight. I whirled. She said, "Look in the poop! Hookworms!"
I gasped and ran faster yet, my feet freezing. I gave a howl on the way down the alley, with only one sock on.  The girls were busy hookworm watching and digging out my tennis shoes. My mother was angry. I wonder why.
She ordered me to go wash my shoes immediately. Later, when I told her about the hookworms, she made me take that antibacterial stuff and wash my feet with it.  Ick.  I also found out that hookworms are too small to be visible, and they were actually ringworms. What a relief. That sure made me feel better. NOT.

My Top 10 Favorite Quotes

1.  "From the moment I met you, your arrogance and vain conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others, has persuaded me that you are the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry."
- Elizabeth Bennet to Mr. Darcy after his proposal in Pride and Prejudice

2. "Did you see all the diamonds those ladies wore?" sighed Jane.  "They were simply dazzling. Wouldn't you love to be rich, girls?" "We are rich." said Anne staunchly. "Why, we have sixteen years to our credit, and we're happy as queens, and we've all got imaginations, more or less.  Look at the sea, girls- all silver and shadow and vision of things not seen.  We couldn't enjoy it's loveliness any more if we had millions of dollars and ropes of diamonds.  You wouldn't change into any of those ladies if you could....you know you wouldn't, Jane Andrews.
-Anne Shirley to Diana Barry and Jane Andrews in Anne of Green Gables

3. "Liar! Liar!" shrieked suddenly from the now open trap door.  Miracle Max whirled. "Back, Witch--" he commanded.  "I'm not a witch, I'm your wife-" she was advancing on him, an ancient tiny fury- "and after what you've just done I don't think I want to be that any more!"
-The Princess Bride

4. "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or others of their daughters."
- Jane Austen, in Pride and Prejudice

 5. "Your son has behaved abominably!" Lucy said angrily.  "No, he has not behaved abominably," said Mr Emerson.  "He has only tried, which is what he ought not to have done."
-A Room with a View


6. "It is true neither of us have anything to tell," Marianne stated. "You because you share nothing and I because I conceal nothing."
-Marianne to Eleanor in Sense and Sensibility

7. ".....I don't expect to be a bride myself, I'm so homely nobody would ever want to marry me-unless it might be a foreign missionary.  I suppose a foreign missionary mightn't be very particular."
- Anne of Green Gables

8. "Even although we meet as strangers now, I still love her with an inextinguishable love.  It makes me very sad at times to think of her.  But really, Marilla, one can't stay sad very long in such an interesting world, can one?" 
-Anne, referring to her former best friend, Diana, in Anne of Green Gables


9. "Dr. Jones?" Elsa inquired. "Yes." He answered.  "I knew it was you. You have your fathers eyes."  He smiled.  "And my mother's ears. But the rest belongs to you." 
-Indiana Jones, upon meeting Elsa in Indiana Jones.


10. "A lady's imagination is very rapid. It goes quickly from admiration to love, then from love to matrimony." 
-Mr Darcy, speaking to Miss Bingley in Pride and Prejudice