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As promised, they story continues! We got to visit Kiki from January 26th to January 27th. It wasn't sure if we were able to go due to my old Grandparents and her big sister at home who is also getting older. She is turning 15 sometime this year. But in the end my Dad stayed at home to take care of everyone and we were able to go. To be honest, I was a bit happy that he did not come with us, because I love those little trips with my Mum. My Mum drove on the highway on our way to Kiki so we were able to save some time. She did not do this for years, but said that now she needs too. So one of the things Kiki already managed to do is to get my Mum to drive on the highway again. What follows is what happened on day 1, day 2 will be in a separate post.
We picked her up at her foster mummy at around 11am and drove to our rented apartment. This time more prepared for her needs, and of course she barfed. Haha! But it was all together much better than in October with her in the car. In the end she even walked into the box by herself on the backseat, no need to shove her in.
We took everything inside and decided to use the good weather and go for a walk. (By the way, she recognised that apartment instantly!) She walked like a champ, we went for about an hour or so, and the trail was pretty steep at times and she really had to work to move forward. We walked a part of the so called "Franconian Redwine-Trail". The weather wasn't that great, so the view is not the best, but you can get a hint of it from the pictures. I included a picture from Google of a vineyard. You can see the white letters and above this vineyard was the trail. (And that is were we took the pictures.)
We also met several people and a few dogs. She was nice and friendly to every human while still being not too friendly and she did great in figuring out if the dogs were okay to say hi to or not. It is good to see that her living together with so many dogs gives her incredible social skills.
After a coffee break at the apartment we went for a second walk around the town. Same there, she did pretty good. Although we noticed that she was a bit anxious walking next to the road on a narrow sidewalk, which considering her size and the size of cars is normal and healthy I guess. I just picked her up and carried her until we got to a nicer area. Obviously this is something we will work on when she is here. She "picked out" a little keepsake book with poems at a communal book shelve and we ran "home" again.
She was pretty knocked out for the rest of the day and we noticed that like tired little children she went to my Mum to snuggle. It was so sweet to see. She fell asleep in her arms.
I think that night she slept pretty well. Day 2 will be up in the next days.
Oh and do you guys notice her red harness? I got that for free from someone on Facebook. It fits her perfectly and she looks so cute in it.
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Considering all the NRAAS mods I downloaded, you'd think I'd have thought about a homeschool one... well, now I have!
It's getting chilly in Appaloosa Plains, so I gave Amanda a more suitable outfit (I often do this for my Sims).
Babymaking time again...
Chloe is a Genius (yeah, I know, another trait that seems bizarre for a fundie), so she enjoys playing chess.
Chris likes getting to know people. Unfortunately, he's having to look away from Gracie Loveland's big... er... chest.
Awww, poor baby Calvin... I forget why he was upset. Maybe it was hunger?
Peek-a-boo! Chloe and Caleb are good friends. And yep, Amanda's outfit changed, she's pregnant again.
It's snowing! With the Taylors, I had set it so that the game was in permanent summer mode because Joey was a gardener and it was easiest, otherwise plants went into hibernation and never revived. Neither parent is into gardening, so I don't need to worry.
Chloe only attended one day of normal school. On Monday morning, she enrolled in homeschool. You collect assignments either from City Hall or downloaded from the computer.
Here she is completing her first assignment!
Another promotion for Chris - now he's the mayor!
Calvin's a toddler! And the youngest, for now...
Chloe can't do many sister-mom duties, but she can give her little siblings a bottle.
Do you want to build a snowman...
Chris threw a campaign fundraiser. It was pretty successful! He raised over 22,000 Simoleons!
Oh come on, Chris, your wife has been in labour three times already! After a short freakout he used the computer to work from home.
TWINS! And, they're girls! Welcome to the world, Clara and Connie!
Caleb is now a child! I don't know why Chloe's talking about the theatre when she's never been...
Naturally, Amanda has a wish to have another child. Because 5 aren't enough. Chloe is close to becoming a teen, so she'll be able to do sister-mom duties.
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By Maggie Mae,
Veruca in the Nut RoomSpoiler
You've got to hand it to OG Veronica. She inspired this.Spoiler
Alas, this is the book. Wonka warns his guests about the NUT ROOM by saying "Whatever you do, don't go into THE NUT ROOM. If you go in, you'll disturb the squirrels."
Wonka explains that the squirrels are trained to shell walnuts. Mike Teavee, being the reasonable one in the room, asks why squirrels instead of Oompa Loompas. Let's not get me started on food safety standards and efficiency of using a series of trained rodents to shell food that is supposedly meant for human consumption. Or that Wonka's "reason" is that Oompa Loompas always break the "walnut" into two pieces. I'm not sure that's true. Growing up, my grandmother always had a bowl of whole roast nuts and a nutcracker. It wasn't a cool, fancy one that came to life at night, though.
It was this one.
And we all had to share it, so me and my mom and dad and cousins and aunts and uncles would be (insert current slang for "hanging out" or "waiting") around the kitchen table, probably playing cards, catching up, or even passively "watching" daytime TV or breaking news on an 8 inch black and white TV and sharing this bowl of roasted nuts. And a relish tray. There would be bread and butter pickles (Recipe to come), pickled apples, pickled peppers, pickled olives and maybe if I was lucky, a cracker or two.
Anyway, so Wonka is an idiot who insists on only using whole walnuts that have been in squirrels mouths. The squirrels tap each nut to check for freshness, then they toss the bad ones.
Veruca, predictably, wants a squirrel.
Squirrels are very cute. My very spoiled cat also wants a squirrel. I no longer leave youtube videos of birbs and squirrels on for him when I leave the house after the great TV disaster of 2018.
All Veruca has at home is two dogs, four cats, six bunny rabbits, two parakeets, three canaries, green parrot, a turtle, a cage of white mice, a bowl of goldfish, and a "silly old hamster."
Veruca sucks. But her parents suck more. I hope her staff is taking good care of this menagerie.
Veruca begins to throw the temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums. Her parents try to appease her - her mom promising a squirrel later, her dad trying to buy one from WIlly Wonka, who won't sell. Veruca sees this and charges into the squirrel room to try and grab a squirrel for herself. Silly girl has clearly never seen a squirrel before. Presumably London has squirrels. Maybe she just is so sheltered that she never noticed the noisy, destructive rodents.
She enters the room, and 100 squirrels attack her. The lead squirrel knocks on her head and declares her a "bad egg" and down the chute she goes. Her parents soon follow suite. This is after a discussion about what chute it is and what it contains. Mike is concerned about who is eating potatoes and fish and cabbage, which I suppose is an adequate question if you assume that Mr Wonka's living quarters are separate from the factory as is standard in the US. Nevertheless, Wonka responds sarcastically.
Regardless, the chute goes to the incinerator. Mr. Salt is "extremely cross about this" despite the fact that his daughter might be "a bit of a frump" (Is that a kindle error? Should that say "Grump?") I do applaud Mr Salt's ability to remain a shady business mogul thru and thru. "I think you've gone a shade to far this time, Wonka!" Anyway, as I said, they follow her down the chute. Both parents lean over the hole, calling for their child, and the squirrels knock them in, head first.
Oompa Loompas sing a song about the garbage that Veruca is covered with and how smelly it is.
Seriously. She's like, the worst, and somehow she gets off the easiest. Probably because she's playing the Carmelita Spats game. She's cute enough that she even enchanted Wonka a bit.
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I have been a part of two churches in my life: One was a toxic church which drove to seek fundamentalism in my teens as my parents insisted in being of part of it. The other was a perfectly decent and kind church that was pleasant for me, but this experience drove me away from church due to my family’s drama. At the former, my parent’s excuse was that they felt like they were “missionaries” to that church.
I am starting to realize more and more that my parents’ determination to be the “true Christians” in their churches is a way for them to bond in an otherwise dysfunctional relationship. Of course, the fact that they were/kind of are still participating in such a strange mission is quite a dysfunctional act itself. Although it was hurtful at the time, it’s been fascinating in retrospect how they would twist bad behavior of my dad sometimes into attacks of satan through people in the church. While it was annoying my mom stayed with my father, I am grateful she would call him out on most of his shit. But sometimes, things went very awry...
As silly as this sounds, I have a hard time sharing this story with my husband because he already has such strong opinions about my parents, but I remember my ex at the time was a lot more sympathetic to my family and he was astounded at this situation: My dad apparently was checking out a woman at church (no surprise). This took place at the good church, the one I went to as an adult with family. So my mother thought the only logical explanation for this particular situation was that...
the woman is a witch.
I know. The most embarrassing part? I believed it for a minute. Now, this turned into what is an almost 4 year long battle. I quickly realized what bullshit it was after the first couple of months, but I have since been neutral in appearance and intensely skeptical on the inside. I once even went to my church’s parking lot in the middle of the night one night to “anoint” a place the woman would usually stand with frankincense and a prayer so she would leave the church. Oddly enough she didn’t come to church for several months. Anyway, it’s all completely ludicrous and I am ashamed of my brief participation of what is basically an out-of-control coping mechanism for my mom. But things kept getting worse: my mom believing this gal put curses on people in the church, how she would not walk past the woman so she herself would not get cursed.
One time, service was over and I was in the front of the sanctuary talking with the only other person my age in the entire congregation. My family have always been backseat people, and they were gathering their things there and talking with various folk as everyone filtered out. I noticed my parents come and sit towards the front, a little ways from where this girl and I were standing. They both looked annoyed, so I ended my conversation to see if they needed to talk with me (my brother and I drove separately from them most of the time so there was no need to leave together). No, the “witch” was standing by the exit speaking with the pastor, and they did not want to walk past her. I KNOW.
Now, I do not care for this woman in the first place. She does come off as ingenuine and there is something that rubs me the wrong way, but I do not possibly think she is witch. What I disbelieve even more than that is the power she could have on folks in the church if she was. I quit attending regularly after an incident that deserves it’s own blog post took place, but I have gone periodically since. One time during one of these visits I was in
line for food talking with a family friend and the gal was standing near me, so my mom comes up behind me and puts her hands on me and says “I’m protecting you”.
No, you’re not mom. You’re protecting your false sense of security by demonizing this woman. And you wonder why I won’t go to church with you.
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Last Friday in to Saturday we had freezing rain followed by a couple inches of snow here in Iowa. Where I live we had two inches of snow by Saturday morning. Not much but enough to cover the ground and make travel interesting. It was mostly done by Saturday evening but I had picked up pizza since I didn't want to risk going out and having the weather take a turn for the crappy.
It sounds like tomorrow we're going to have some freezing drizzle which has the potential to make the morning commute interesting. At least with my new job they allow me to work from home when the weather is bad or around holidays.
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I hate the holiday season, just hate it. I used to love it, but 20 years ago today the police came to our door to make the worst notification they are tasked with. Our daughter was just 21.
We do Christmas, we have had little kids for the past 17 years, so we have to do Christmas, but I just wish I could go to bed Thanksgiving night and wake up mid January.
Welcome back to 66 Goodbook Avenue! We've now followed the Edens for two decades, and the f*n is only multiplying.
As the Edens continue to expand rapidly, they rejoiced that
Godtheir pastor changed his mind about bunkbeds! They are allowed again (I found a mod that worked with the updates). Behold the truly space-efficient boys and girls dorms.
It's a good thing there are a lot of teenagers ruling the roost now, as the littler Edens are out of control. The girls in particular really have a lot on their plates. Here, Deuteronomy does laundry while Genesis cooks, Chronicles does dishes, Ruth practices the violin, and Numbers entertains the useless boys.
Similar to the Duggars, the first five Edens have actual identities and personalities, and after that, they all run together. Also similar to the Duggars, there is a group of middle boys (with one girl in the middle, Ruth!) who run completely amok. #7, Judges, is a particular PITA. Here he is on the left with a fellow Howler, making one of 666 messes this year. Timeouts have done little to curb his destructive tendencies, so Adam and Eva are praying for a fundie behavioral remedy. Look out Judges!
The eldest of the Howlers, #6 Joshua (not that anyone cares), became a teen this year. He was a very good, nondescript kid who became a little romantic. Guess we'll check up on you in 5 more years, Josh!
Meanwhile, the above-16s were invited on a mission trip to scary Salvadorada with their youth group.
Exodus was delighted that the Lord laid it on Maya's heart to attend as well! They spent their first evening
revisiting their baptismsswimming in the vacation home pool. Genesis was relieved that Maya at least tried to cover up her rockin' bod.
I mean, damn, girl
Over the trip, Exodus was really attracted to Maya's COUNTENANCE and heart for
working outthe Lord, and they got to know each other much better.
Exodus truly was pleased that the Lord led them to be of service in...he can't remember the country.
Genesis enjoyed it as well. Not only was it a break from her regular duties, but also she got to see how modestly and non-sluttishly the other women there dressed. She made sure Eva shared her [Genesis'] thoughts on Facebook.
While the group was on the missioncation, Eva gave birth to #16 (a full TWO YEARS after #15!) Welcome the world, Psalm! We can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for you!
Fortunately, the teens were back in time to make birthday cakes for the twins' fourth birthday (the blondes in turquoise). For the first time since Genesis, the Edens only had one toddler at once! They are indeed slowing down! (since the fertility decrease when Eva turned 35)
Notice I said slowing down, not stopping.
The sweet fellowship continues, and Eva's womb hasn't quit yet! Adam and Eva are the only ones who still seem surprised that yet another blessing is on the way!
Ok but back to the teens we really care about. At the end of 2029, Exodus was turning 18 (Genesis is already a legal adult I guess, but with no romantic prospects in sight she may as well be 14 to her parents). He and his parents thought he was ready to enter the next season of life. So he invited Maya to the art museum...
"Doesn't this painting of the outdoors remind you of when were outdoors helping those poor people in...Albuquerque?"
gave her a rose...
and asked her to enter into a courtship relationship with him. She said yes!
How exciting! No word yet on how the rest of the family feels about her pants and short hair, but Exodus thinks she is fiiiiiine inherwalkwithChrist.
So there you have it. We go into a new decade with baby 16 and one more in the oven, a missioncation, a courtposal, and everyone growing up! Until next time, Edens out!
Last week my daughter's school called to let my husband and me know Twin B was going to be tapped in to National Honor Society. This is a goal B has worked towards for years. She was nominated last year and was devastated when she didn't get in but she took that disappoint and she was determined to make it in this year; and she did it!
My mom was still alive when Twin A was selected for National English Honor Society a few months ago and we are all proud of both of them; however, NHS has a ceremony and more prestige than NEHS.
When we got the phone all from school about B's NHS tapping my first thought was "I have call my mom so she can come to the 'tapping in,' too!" Then I realized right after that I can't call her. I cried the entire tapping ceremony because I know my mom would be so very proud.
On an another note, I have a friend whom claims she is a medium and offered a session as a gift to me. She met my mom a couple times seven or eight years ago but we never really spoke of my childhood nor does she know my family. We met in rehab and were in the same group but she didn't know anything about my parents nor did we ever speak of the really personal things in our lives, that was saved for one-on-one with our councillors and doctors. We have kept in touch as a group but I haven't spoken with just her in years. I went into her house with skeptical optimism and with an open heart. Well, l was able to voice record the almost 2 hours I was with her and she knew so much, in such great details, and even answered questions I had written on a piece of paper in my pocket that I didn't tell anyone about. I figured if she was the real deal I would get the answers because my mom knew what I wanted and needed to know.
And one last thing, I was always told my parents planned their pregnancy for me. I asked my dad and he refused to give me any other answer except this: When your mom found out she was pregnant she wanted a girl. I said "Yes, Dad, but was I a PLANNED pregnancy?" He just said "Your mom was so happy when you were born and the doctors said you were a girl." I said to him "Yeah, Dad, I get it, I wasn't planned, I was a surprise!" He just chuckled. LOL!!
Long time lurker, coming out on this blog because I don't know where else to talk about this.
Last Friday, I called the Southern Baptist Church in which I grew up, to ask them to NOT hold a memorial service for my mother. I spoke to the senior pastor, and can I just how much I truly hate that condescending, pastoral tone?
I voiced my opinion because my father requested this memorial, and my siblings support this. Problem? My parents have been divorced for over 30 years. My father remarried, a widow in the church who also raised her children in that church. So my father has attended this church for forty years, and it's pretty well "his" church, the last 25 or so married to another lady from the church.
Before the divorce, my mother stopped attending. After the divorce, she felt very uncomfortable, judged, and unwelcome. It wasn't so much that people supported my father over her, it was a lot more about my mother had a weak, submissive personality and my father bulls right over people. He made sure she felt uncomfortable. The church in general doesn't do well with divorced people, dead people are so much easier. Topic for another day.
My sisters are going to take my mother's ashes into my father's home. This was the home my parents bought when we first moved to the community, when I was going into high school. My father kept the home in the divorce and his second wife moved into it, and now it is legally his/her home.
My father pushed for the four children to chose him over Mom. For the most part, my three siblings went along with it and for years and years would visit my father, stay in his home, drive his car, eat his food, etc. Next to nothing for Mom, not even when she had TIA's and then a stroke.
Now my father is acting like a grieving widower. My mother refused to acknowledge her imminent death, and the only request she made was to be cremated. Because she did not specify anything, they have taken as this carte blanche to do what they want. Not what my mom would have wanted, which was definitely not that church and absolutely most definitely not to spend a weekend in her ex-husband's house.
My mother lived with me, I was divorced single mom, for almost 20 years. She went to live with my sister in another state, across the country, five years ago because my sister signed her out of the nursing home. She lived in my sister's house for about six months, developed new health issues, and suffered a major stroke when meant she ended up in a nursing home far from home, with only the one sister around.
This is not about my mother coming home. She chose to stay away from that church for over 30 years. This is not about my father respecting or honoring the mother of his children. This is about my father, who abused my mother all their married life, pulling the upper hand to show my mom is still really all about him.
I can't express the rage I feel that they are yet again marginalizing my mother. That ex-husband has no place at her memorial. I can't even imagine how my father's wife must really feel about this. My father never had nice or kind word to say about my mother, and I don't know if the wife understands he doesn't have any good words for her either. My father is a misogynist, to the core. He is also rascist and abusive and other unpleasant things.
I refuse to attend. I don't want to make it about me and how I'm not there because my father is. I want my mother to be honored and respected, because she deserves that. She was a teacher for many years, she loved her children and grandchildren to the best of her ability, and I believe with all my heart that my mother really tried to be the best person she could. She was fragile, I now believe she was in major depression for many years, and my father was a jerk to her.
My siblings continually chase after my father for his approval. They don't like because I won't bend the knee and beg daddy to love me. I had actually developed a healthy distance between me and their toxicity, but my mother's death forced open the door to my siblings and it has been pure hell ever since.
So the reason I have developed this hate-on for the SBC minister is that I kept emphasizing they are divorced, it's inappropriate, my mother's toleration of necessary interaction with my father should not be construed as forgiving and forgetting how he abused her and mistreated her for the 20-something years of their marriage. I said my mother did not request it and would not have wanted it, that this was about doing it for my father and completely disregarding my mother.
That jerk kept giving me this song and dance about how they would open their doors for anyone who asked for a funeral or memorial, like it's so holy they wouldn't turn anyone away. Guess what? If this was a gay man, you better believe they would not agree to it. But because this is a white man who has attended church there for years, it doesn't matter how, the oldest daughter, feels about it. You know, the wimmenz who are not good at submission should be talked to like a small, stupid child.
I pointed out that the deceased had not requested it, and in fact had demonstrated by living out her last 30 years by never attending that church again, had made it clear she did not want anything to do with the church. But, you know, she's dead, and the only person who matters is the male, so his wishes prevail.
It is nothing more than a way for my father to assert, yet again, that he's the person who matters, and that mother doesn't count for jack squat. This is why abusive men love conservative churches, because the very nature of it is to NOT VALUE the female.
My sisters want to have the memorial on a Sat and inter the ashes on the following Monday - and to keep Mom's ashes at his house. I feel disgusted, sick, appalled, enraged. All the work I've done to balance myself and find a life outside their bullshit is gone. The only way I can find my way back to center to completely shut myself off from the process. I've apologized to Mom over and over. I have confronted everyone I can think of to stand up for Mom and have been shouted down at every turn. People are not too fond of those who grow up churched and then chose to leave it and refuse to play the church culture games. My Mom should not be in that church or in my father's house.
I feel defeated and depressed. How can my siblings be so thick? How can they dishonor and disrespect her like this? I cannot explore it or try to understand. I have to step away from it.
If you read this, thank you.
I truly do not know some days what I am supposed to believe anymore.
I believe in God, and I believe that Jesus is the only way to God, which will probaby get me into trouble with certain people.
But people can, have, and do use the name of Jesus to lie, to manipulate, and to exploit. I've been there.
People use the Bible to "prove" that they are right about everything.
I am supposed to support immigrants and open borders . . . Or I am supposed to support border security.
I am supposed to support women in ministry . . . Or I am supposed to follow the versesthat say "women can't preach"
I don't dare post this onFB because I don't want to get into an argument with people there. But even here, I'm afraid of coming off as too conservative or too fundy.
And it just seems that to know what the Bible really says, I have to do university-level study. And I am just too overwhelmed at the moment to do it.
News these days is fake. I don't know what fact-checking sites to believe. And even when I share fact checks, there are the people that scream that "they're liberal and they're biased!" All news seems biased and I don't know who's telling the truth.
"Think for yourself" carries the undercurrent of "as long as you come to the same conclusions I do".
"Let love lead" translates into "you don't love me if you call me out on my behavior, so you have to agree with everything I do/say."
There's no one I can really tell everything to, except for God. There's some subjects I don't want to delve into even with my BFF even though she's assure me that I won't lose her friendship.
It has become exhausting just trying to live from day to day at times. I don't know who to trust. And the day in, day out of living is just exhausting. I have to do work for pay this afternoon. I can't keep the house clean. I'm trying to write and I'm stalled. I'm 55 and running out of time to write everything I want to. I have a son with a disability that needs to be provided for and the mechanisms of doing so are just plain overwhelming. And the longer I put stuff off, the harder it's going to be for him. My husband talks about "We" doing this stuff, but it usuall ends up being "me" because I'm the one with the time to do it.
And I haven't done any sewing or knitting or crocheting in months.
It's our baby's birthday today 😊 He's had adventures, a,new fridge to scale, & a new doggie to argue with. He & Mina are still working out their lap domination dynamic.
Our favorite kitty decided to help himself to daddy's muffins I made the other night. I woke up to discover a shredded zip lock, and half a muffin clean gone. He'd left tooth marks in several others. Honey discovered said muffins halfway down the hall into Thor's room.
The muffin destruction was great.
I lub my baby.
So, a while ago I mentioned in my last entry, that my sister and I share a language we have made up ourselves. We were chatting again as usual, and I noticed that we sometimes write cities and countries as they should be in Finnish or English, and some we turn into our language. I'll list some of these down - have a guess and/or a laugh!
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AKA Beyond Jordan
- I’ve gotta say, the aerial shots are enjoyable.
- PP says the goal of the trip is to visit as many biblical sites as possible. I do not believe that showcasing the holy land was ever the only goal of the film from the very beginning based on what I already know. Like the #FreePalestine he attached to the description of the film on Youtube.
- PP isn’t even 100% sure the Israeli govt will let him in.
- Watching PP and Roger Jimenez joke about all of the countries PP has been banned from is eye roll worthy. It’s not really something to be proud of.
- Airplane shots are pure filler. We get a shot of a random Jewish guy donning tefillin on the plane.
- They let PP in. It’s almost as if he’s not as important and (in)famous as he thinks he is. 🙄
- The generic ~eastern~ music is predictably here to remind us we’re in the Middle East.
- PP washes his face with water from the Jordan river. He says it’s kind of salty.
- Listening to Jimenez preach at Herod’s fortress is such a snooze fest.
- We see the Dead Sea and a member of PP’s entourage points out how there is all this salt on the shore, but the first thing I see is litter. PP dives in headfirst and gets salt in his eyes. They all then proceed to float in the Dead Sea like you’re supposed to, and it’s supposedly one of the weirdest things EVER. 🙄
- They go to the Church of the Nativity and PP manages to avoid making an ass of himself on camera. We get to hear the tour guide sing the Lord’s Prayer in Aramaic which his kinda neat.
- PP gives Bethlehem’s water a rave review.
- PP moans about all of the idolatry in Bethlehem and the “false religion.”
- I start passing skipping the mini sermons that come with each site around this point.
- At Petra PP talks about why he was hesitant to visit the holy land before now; He doesn’t support the “modern, fake state of Israel.” Blah, blah, blah. Then he goes into how all of the sites they’ve visited so far aren’t even in Israel. He makes it a point to tell the viewers that at this point, they haven't even gone to Israel and everything we’ve seen so far has been in Jordan or Palestine.
- They hit the rewind button to show us how this trip REALLY went. They arrived in Amman, Jordan and crossed into the West Bank.
I paused at this point because I'm tired and can only watch the Pisser for so long. The film is almost 2 hrs long. I can tell the focus is probably shifting from "look at all of these cool holy sites" to PP whinging about Israel real soon.
I posted this in the coloring club (or whatever it's called). But I'm conducting a bit of an experiment since I've managed to find my way to where I can post a blog entry. (it doesn't appear as an option now under Create - well it does but it comes up blank)
This is my most recent project. I've got a couple of smudges that make me batty when I see them. Otherwise, I've very happy with how this turned out.
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Hi guys! This is my first blog post and I hope some of you will find this content intriguing. Apologies in advance for poor grammar - hopefully I get better with time. The two games I'm considering playing are vastly different from one another. Harvest Moon (recently renamed Story of Seasons) is a series of life and farm simulation games with the main objective of each game being to rebuild a farm and/or town and to befriend the townspeople. Corpse Party is a horror adventure RPG - decidedly different from Harvest Moon. More about their plots and origins below:
Harvest Moon: More Friends of Mineral Town:
Originally released in 2003, Harvest Moon: More Friends of Mineral Town (henceforth referred to as MFoMT) is the third Story of Seasons game that focuses on the female perspective.
The player is sitting alone in her apartment, thinking about how tired she is of her life in the city. She wants something new, and as she's looking in the newspaper, she sees an advertisement in the newspaper about a farm for sale.
She decides to purchase the farm, and goes there to see it. Upon arriving, she meets with the mayor, Thomas, who is surprised to see that somebody has replied to the advertisement. Although the farm needs a lot of work, Thomas says that the people of Mineral Town are desperate for a person to revive the farm. The player decides to live on the farm, and the game then begins.
Originally released in 1996, the plot of Corpse Party concerns a group of Japanese high school students who, after celebrating their school's culture festival, are telling ghost stories when a sudden earthquake transports them to a dilapidated schoolhouse in an alternative dimension that is haunted by the ghosts of people who have been trapped there. The main playable character is Satoshi Mochida, a kindhearted high school student who is teased by his classmates for his cowardly nature. Three of the other characters are students from Satoshi's class: Naomi Nakashima, Satoshi's childhood friend; Yoshiki Kishinuma, an intimidating yet good-natured student; and Ayumi Shinozaki, the class representative. Rounding out the group is Yuka Mochida, Satoshi's younger sister.
The game's story is split into five chapters, each focusing on different characters and featuring multiple endings that are achieved based on the player's in-game decisions: a "True Ending" required for the game's progression; and several "Wrong Endings" that are unlocked when the player performs events irrelevant to the main storyline. Characters also possess hit points (HP), which measure how much damage they can take before dying, in some instances leading to a wrong ending. As players progress through the game, they will unlock ten optional "Extra Chapters", vignettes that focus on the game's side characters and expand the storyline.
If I post about Corpse Party, I will include a NSFW warning, trigger warnings, and keep everything under spoilers, as it's quite... disturbing.
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to nor do I intend to advertise Story of Seasons, Harvest Moon, Harvest Moon: More Friends of Mineral Town, Corpse Party, Nintendo, or Natsume.
I mentioned in one of the threads that I'd attended a charity dinner where JK was speaking and had a theory that I wound up defending in a Tumblr challenge a few years back.
My theory is that Molly Weasley had her own Deathly Hallows in the final battle.
While viewed as a children’s story, or a physical quest, there was much more to the Deathly Hallows than that, the mastery of death could lie not just in objects, but in the right mix of people. The theory, hotly debated amongst vigilant believers, was in current contest as those three Hallows were united as they dueled against Bellatrix Lestrange.
There was Luna, the Resurrection Stone, the girl who fed thestrals, missed a mother and danced in and out of everyone else’s version of reality. The girl whose haunting alternate ways so often helped others get back to themselves when feeling lost or alone asking nothing in return, helping them resurrect who they were when they vulnerable.
There was Hermione, the Invisibility Cloak that had shielded others so many times, often invisible and unthanked in her constant support of everyone. The cloak’s true gift lay in the ability to shield others, not just a single wearer and never tired out. For Hermione had never left Harry’s side, had helped Hagrid for ages on his case for Buckbeak, had knit hat after hat for house elf rights, had been the constant plan maker to hide them from trouble. The girl who was tortured to shield others.
There was Ginny, the Elder Wand. The girl who stood toe to toe with Voldemort in a very private battle for months on end and ensured the only causality would be herself. If it is assumed the castle wasn’t doused with Flelix Feliciats, then Ginny was actively thwarting the giant, murderous creature she kept releasing while blacked out from killing. Chamber opening, rebellion leading, unmastered Ginny who showed Tom Riddle having a thing was not the same as being able to use it.
Their mistress was one Molly Weasley, who could selflessly possess the attributes. A daughter by blood, a daughter by heart from across the hill, a daughter to be. When faced with a depraved killer who had felled notable duelists, Molly could not be beat. The mother in her, the fresh grief she had might have been enough, but her Hallows ensured Bellatrix would never harm again.
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I want to preface this by saying I am kind of embarrassed that this is my third blog post here in a row and if other people don't start posting let my insecurity be on your heads.
Also - I am well aware that I'm FJ's Jill Duggar of food photography. I'm terrible ... snark away, judgey people.
I love cranberry-orange muffins and in company meetings I'd make sure they ordered one for me from Panera, but I prefer mine because they are slightly less sweet.
The three bears reference is because I always bake these in 3 sizes: Jumbo, regular*, and mini muffins.
I have three kids and this is one of the few things they all love. Sometimes they like the jumbo when grabbing one as a breakfast muffin on the way to work or school, we all love the regular, and mini-muffins are great when you want just a little bite without eating a whole one...because for me breaking into a whole muffin means I'll try to save for later but will finish it in short order so mini-muffins are perfect for those times you need a little taste of happiness without making a cupcake sized commitment.
*regular being typical cupcake tins.
This is my grandma's recipe. I am sure she got it from Ocean Spray originally and tweaked it as it's similar. This is for a double batch which will make a tray of each size (6 jumbo, 12 regular, and 24 mini.) It is also good in loaf pans as cranberry bread, but muffins leave less crumbs on my counter. Those of you who have neater families who wipe up their own counter crumbs may enjoy the bread, this recipe makes 2 loaf pans.
- 4 cups flour
- 2 cups sugar
- 1 tbsp baking powder
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 tsp salt
- 1.5 cups orange juice
- 4 tbsp melted butter (or Imperial margarine)
- 2 eggs, well beaten
- 4 cups fresh cranberries* halved or lightly pulsed once in food processor.
(*I do not use nuts in this recipe. If you prefer nuts then cut the cranberries to 3 cups and add one cup of pecans)
- Preheat oven to 350
- Butter tins or line with cupcake liners...I'm a big fan of spray butter
- Sift together dry ingredients (flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.)
- Mix together wet ingredients (OJ, butter, and eggs.) Add melted butter to OJ before adding eggs so they don't scramble from the heat.
- Pour wet ingredients into the dry and mix together by hand until just combined. Like with all such muffins do not over mix or you will get a very tough end product.
- Fold in cranberries until evenly dispersed throughout the batter, again don't over-mix. You don't want them whole, but not minced - big chunks are best. I use my food processor on all 4 cups at once and pulse it once.
- Regular - 1 ice cream scoop of batter per muffin.
- Mini - 1 melon baller scoop per muffin
- Jumbo - 1.5 - 1.75 ice cream scoops per muffin.
- Loaves - split the batter between 2 loaf
- Regular - 25 minutes
- Mini - 15 minutes
- Jumbo - 30-35 minutes
- Loaves - 50 minutes
Done when tops are golden and butter knife comes out clean.
(posting now but will upload pics from phone shortly.)
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Earlier today, I was at work with my Google Play Music on shuffle, and a song from the OBC recording of Annie popped up randomly. Weird, but whatever. It was one of my favorite musicals as a kid and I still have a bit of a soft spot for spunky red-headed orphans (see also PIppi Longstocking, Sansa Stark) Of course I listened to the entire thing, including a bunch of early mixes I hadn't heard before. I grew up in the time of tapes, and we were poor for a good portion of my life. I still remember my first walkman and the first two tapes - Amy Grant, Heart in Motion, and Annie. So I've listened to it a few times. (Eventually I also got an Ace of Base tape, a Madonna Tape, and some early 90s R&B, before moving on to CDs). Anyway, so I'm listening to some early mixes, and it hits me.
I love musicals.
This wasn't a revelation. But I love musicals because they are political. Every single one I've ever loved is political at it's very core. Annie - wealth disparity, the New Deal, history, Hoovervilles, all wrapped up in a shiny happy broadway theme. Rent - AIDS crisis, HIV stigma, poverty, wealth disparity, journalism integrity, the American Dream. Newsies - history - newsboys strike, Christian Bale singing with Bill Pullman, poverty, journalism, wealth disparity. Cabaret - rise of fascism while everyone parties. Les Mis, Chicago, even Mary Poppins has a liberal political message/history lesson in the middle of it. Sound of Music. Fiddler on the Roof. West Side Story. South Pacific. Avenue Q.
It appears that my favorite musicals (other than Mamma Mia, which we should just not talk about because I will fight you if you hate it) are the ones about living in poverty and doing the best you can with what you got. Not throwing away your shot, if you will.
Which brings me to a different memory.
I was talking to a guy on skype. He had lived next door to a very close friend, and he was dating a different "friend" of mine from high school. This was in the early 2000s and everyone was talking about the election, Bush V Gore, the Patriot Act, Ralph Nader, John McCain, and assorted topics. This guy was literally the first person who didn't even humor me with my "you should vote for x person in the local election." He was just "no. I don't vote." And even with his reasoning, I could not accept that. I still can not accept that. I don't understand that viewpoint, and I probably never will. It's been at least a decade since I talked to that guy, and I just don't get it. What do you do all day when you aren't political? What do you talk about? When you talk about "how to make the world better" what do you say? Is the number of people who hate politics at all correlated to people who hate musicals?
Which brings me to how does anyone hate musicals? I know they exist and are out there but why? Is it like my hatred of country music? They hear it and have the same full body uncomfortable feeling? That's so sad. I feel like I owe so much of my knowledge of history to my love of Broadway, as these groundbreaking musicals inspired me to study things in history that I probably wouldn't know about otherwise. I wouldn't have read Allan Ginsburg's Howl without Rent. I wouldn't have read The Berlin Stories without Cabaret. Fictional characters set during war time give the audience a grasp of what it was like for those who aren't Generals or State Politicians.
BTW. If Cabaret comes to your city, go see it. It's topical.
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I remember being about two years old (I have a long memory) and watching my dad plug in Christmas lights. That was probably the last year our family celebrated Christmas.
Both my parents grew up celebrating holidays like most of middle-class America, but as they began their slide into fundie-dom they started reading tracts and booklets about the evils of holidays. They believed that Christmas, Easter, and Halloween were evil throwbacks to paganism that had been perpetuated by the Catholics (who, of course, weren't "real Christians"). I'm linking here to something similar to the many booklets we had around the house: http://blowthetrumpet.org/AChristmasDefenseHowGodsPeopleJustifySin.htm
This refusal to celebrate holidays set my family apart, even from the fundamentalist Christians we associated with, and definitely caused a lot of confusion when people casually asked us kids what we were doing for Christmas, and we told them we didn't "do Christmas." We got asked a lot if we were Jehovah's Witnesses, since that's who usually comes to mind as not celebrating holidays. Sometimes people asked if my parents were Christian, because the idea of a Christian not celebrating Christmas was so astonishing.
Birthdays were only grudgingly allowed: we normally had just a family gathering, similar to the Maxwells' descriptions of their birthday celebration. It was often pointed out that the only birthdays mentioned in the Bible were the birthdays of evil men (Pharaoh and Herod). Also it was seen as being likely to draw to much attention to one person and make them self-centered.
This story has a bit of a happy ending, at least for me. After I left home, I embraced holidays with a vengeance. Christmas was amazing, my children got Easter baskets from my in-laws, Halloween was a pure delight of dressing my kids and taking them trick-or-treating. Now that I've left Christianity, I still look forward to the holidays. Christmas/Yule/Winter Solstice--whatever it's called, it's a time of joy and giving and yummy food. Halloween--it's a joy to watch my children enjoy what I didn't, with no fear of "Satan" to hinder their steps. The cycle of the seasons is cause for celebration, even if "Easter" isn't really a thing for me. And I want my children to feel special on their birthdays: to know that they're important and valued.
This rejection of holidays stemmed from anti-Catholic and anti-Pagan attitudes. It was promoted as being "God's way," but all the tracts reviled Catholics and Pagans, making it obvious that the real problem was with other people's belief systems. Of course, we were the ones with the "right" understanding of the Bible. As with everything else.
Nowadays, my parents still don't celebrate religious holidays, except for having or attending a Thanksgiving meal (apparently there's some justification in the Bible for "a day of thanks," don't ask me). They are free to do whatever they want on the holidays; meanwhile, at my house, there will likely be a delicious dinner cooking and a living room full of loved ones.
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I'm making my first attempt to cook rice in my Instant Pot. I am completely incapable of making rice that isn't either mush or crunchy, no matter what I do. Here's what I have done so far:
1 c. wild rice
2 c. water
1tsp better than bullion veggie because it sounded good.
Put in pot and set to 25 min per https://www.platingsandpairings.com/cook-perfect-rice-instant-pot/.
Prayed Rufus' blessing on my endeavour.
Blogged about it on FJ. Updates to follow.
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The title explains it all: My MIL is moving back to the region where husband and I live. We are state line to her home state (and mine), so she will be uber close to us. NEITHER of us is excited or looking forward to this B moving back with her mother (who is also not excited).
She's not a job type person, and already told GMIL she cannot get a job because she's unskilled. She's not even 60 yet. The unspoken truth is she is going to wait for her mother to die and leave her the trust fund she's expecting. It feels like a page from a fundie soap opera because I cannot even with the amount of laziness bullshit from her.
I'll have more updates later. She's supposed to be back by October 1st, but we don't know if she's going to cancel and try to "work things out" with her abusive, bipolar, alcoholic husband (for the second or third time).
In case you were wondering, my MIL is nowhere near fundie or even religious.
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I don't know what happened but suddenly my depression has disappeared. I'm looking forward to the future.
I have gone as far as starting an exercise program I found on YouTube. It's for people with mobility issues to get them moving forward. I've been able to do the first episode three times. Today I purchased some hand weights designed for walking but they will fit in my hands without exasperating my hand pain.
My t-shirt fit better this morning because I'm already tightening up in my upper body. My pants were too long so I know I'm moving forward. I did need to use my cane when walking to and from the courthouse, but overall I'm feeling stronger. I'm looking forward to doing the program tomorrow.
Keep at it.
Find a picture or pictures of bicycles. When I drop some weight I'm buying one! Mobility this winter in SoCal will be so much easier.
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I'm old, so I apologize for using a blog for this because I can't find the jibber-jabber place to post random things like this.
You know where the ads are on FJ, right? We all do, and 9 times outta 10 I couldn't tell you what the ad was for because I just ignore them. But Sears, somehow, popped up with an ad for power tools. Lots of power tools and tool boxes. And a Windola (maybe not exactly a Windola, but I'm close). After clicking on her and finding out you can do so many different things with her I decided I'd lingered long enough on the ad. Gods know what's going to show up on the ad space NOW since I showed an interest in a poseable life-size barbie doll.
Has anyone else been blessed with this abomination or is it just me?!
17 minutes ago, FiveAcres said:
Maybe she thought parenting would be easier with offspring than siblings?
Jill seemed to find joy in being with her younger sibs, and seemed to be happy in the roles of sister-mom, child rearing, crafts, reading, music... Conversely, much of the time she posts things with her own boys, she seems overwhelmed. Maybe it’s the isolation that bothers her because she also had chores other than childcare in the TTH too. Maybe she’s lonely for the constant, close-to-her-own-age companionship?
Interesting story. I can relate. I was raised by original fundies, with toxic family dynamics exacerbated by crazy religion. Even though my parents left the headcovering, dresses only Mennonite church when I was 5, they were still stuck in so many crazy beliefs, and patriarchy. Dad was a weaker person than mom but she tried to be a good submissive wife, and the manipulations and resentment that resulted were toxic. Dad also went religion shopping, a lot, so we had some pretty weird Pentecostal variations, lots of demons.
Free Jinger has been invaluable for me, as I still unpack my childhood and the horrific influence of religion. We were not homeschooled, and I managed to get a degree, and has a good career and now I am retired.
There are 4 of us sisters and we have all picked abusive men, but none of us are with them now. I am sure this has a lot to do with our father, and religion. I accidentally got pregnant, at 34, and the sperm donor took no responsibility, and I raised an amazing daughter, who is about to turn 27.
I wish you the best with your marriage and career, and I am very interested in your story.
Poor Jacob -- he's left with the two nitwits alone since his brother jumped ship. I feel sorry for him as he's trapped. Why doesn't his mom take him?
52 minutes ago, catlady said:
sometimes I think that GHaw likes him some manly football and some manly weens-n-gravy while he watches, and the Supper Bowel rant stemmed from his team not making it that year.
but he *is* an ass, so I'm probably wrong.
Well, the distinction would be which kind of ass he is - the kind who is a big pouting baby because his team didn't make it, or the kind who condemns others for enjoying a little recreation instead of paying him to thump away at the Bible.
He claims to be the latter, but he's also an ass if the former is true.
Either way, I think you've got him pegged.
He's an ass.
22 hours ago, NoKidsAndCounting said:
I'm calling it now - Science Evolution Forsyth, first of her name, breaker of fundie values, queen of her own throne.
and hopefully? good at science. Otherwise - that's just mean.