I have German class today – And I am weary of the amount of work that I have to do because the teacher is functioning at a pace that wears me out… we started with 30 people in the class & last Monday were down to 5. We’re getting through a lot more material, a lot more homework, a lot more intensity with 5 than we did with 30. Frau Carson, please. Let up a bit.
The Bean is prepping for a women’s retreat for our church family this weekend… which means me flying solo while she wraps up loose ends. She has stress, esp. about wanting the weekend to be beneficial for the ladies that go; & not like the horror stories of “women’s retreats” that so many people have experienced. Stories where they’ve been rejected, judged, & made to feel unacceptable for being unique & believing that being a godly woman doesn’t mean submitting to a cookie-cutter creation…
Next week this time, I will be in Deutschland. Hooray. And “oh my.”
Youngest bro (YB) & his wife reproduced – born Monday at 3 p.m.ish via C-Section, after labor & an attempt to turn the gargantuan 7 lb 6 oz baby failed. Baby went without a name for 2 days, as in typical YB fashion, he waited as long as possible to make a decision. Name it (her, I know, her…) Ellie Grace. I had a dream that it was Elanor, like Samwise’s firstborn – from wikipedia, which anyone can contribute to, so you know you can trust the info you find there…
More recently J. R. R. Tolkien created an alternative meaning for this name using his made up Elvish language Quenya. In his novel The Lord of the Rings Elanor means “sun-star” (el: star, and anor: sun), and is the name of a golden five-pointed flower that grows in the woods of Lothlórien and the given name of a golden-haired child.
We haven’t seen the baby yet because it (she) is 45 km away in a hospital & because the hospital has a rule: no one admitted who isn’t 12. I have a 10 year old daughter, The Weez, that I refuse to not allow into the room if the rest of the family is in there. Talk about torture. We took it up with the hospital & they offered up the sage advice, “Just tell them she’s 12.” Oh. You mean, lie. Tell my daughter to lie. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? How about no. Pound sand Carson Tahoe Hospital.
There’s more, but I’ll save it for later. If you made it all the way through this post, you deserve a prize. Go get yourself a cup of great coffee, or whatever foo-foo drink you like, & drink it, all the while thinking, “I’m rewarding myself for reading all the way through that post.” Cheers to you.
I did it! I made it through this post . . . however, I had to start drinking my foo-foo prematurely . . .
Well, have fun in Germany. I met a German student this past week while hanging out with two girls from Poland and Norway. He was a great kid. Like those German kids. They have a lot of spunk and life on them! (I know that’s a generalization but hey). If you plan to come over to Budapest and want to meet the team, give me a call. +36709386694.
Congrats, unkul woowie.
I refuse to spend money on a foo-foo coffee drink right now, so instead I will indulge in a cherry coke zero as my reward for getting through this post.
You really need to stop calling your niece “it” before she learns to talk. Don’t worry, you’ve got time. :)
That is horrible that they told you to lie so that Weezer could go in.