A brief overview of the last few days

I TITLED THIS PAGE BEFORE I WROTE IT. IT'S NOT BRIEF AT ALL. BUT READ IT ANYWAY. And please don't be offended...

Our laptop, our only computer fried like an egg on summer blacktop Thursday. A computer friend came over and confirmed it. We're not sure if we'll be able to extract a load of valuable information on there that had not been backed up yet (tho a lot of it has). We'll have to wait and see until I get a new computer. That's a terrible feeling. But oh well. I'm not even gonna jinx myself by moaning about it anymore. Money money blah blah blah.
I'm still healthy today.

Speaking of health, little E has been having a few seizures the last few days. We doubled his meds a couple of weeks ago. The increase coincided with daylight saving's time. Since both of these things happened, he's been really tired. His preschool teacher expressed concern about his new apathy. He's usually so upbeat and helpful and loves to finish his projects in time to do the next thing.
Not sure if it's a meds thing or just the fact that once 8pm rolls around it has been dark for 3 hours already and we all feel like it's really 1am. It also seems on the days that he has seizures, he's just totally wiped out.
He seems to be having more of them in his sleep too. Maybe that adds to his fatigue. Our poor baby. Prayers please. He's such a sweet kid. I get overwhelmed by the thought that he might not grow out of this. G talked about homeschooling him if he doesn't "get better".

Today we visited a friend out in the country. She has a lovely old house with lots of great climbing trees, chickens, barn cats, etc. The kids played outside all day. They ran around like mad; played in leaf piles, chased kitties, pretended there were dragons in the trees and just had a ton of fun.
We left after staying four hours. Little E was alseep in the car in 10 minutes. He's still asleep now, 5 hours later. He'll probably wake up at 6am, and that's okay.

I think we will succeed at our 100 Mile Local Thanskgiving dinner. The biggie was finding fresh cranberries at the food co-op. They came from a bog in Michigan! Had no idea there were any in the state. I even checked on localharvest.org and kept coming up with cranberries from Maine. All the other ingredients have come from within 100 miles though. With the exception of the Cool Whip my mother bought. I explained to her I ordered whipping cream from the dairy this week but she said: "But the Cool Whip was buy 1 get 2 free. And the kids like it. I prefer real whipped cream myself. You can have the other 2 tubs of Cool Whip. I'll never be able to eat it."
This is where I would roll my eyes and smack my forehead if I were to show how bratty I really am. I would whine: Moooo-om, you DON'T get it!
I HATE Cool Whip. I always have. It's not real, it doesn't taste real. It's freaky like Jello with slices of fruit in it. Even before I learned that one could whip up their own whipped cream with a mixer and some whipping cream, I would buy a can of Reddi-Whip (and fight over the "whippet" of the empty can with whatever cheap-thrills friends was with me, killing too many precious brain cells).

But I'm a nice girl. I'll take the extra Cool Whip and let the kids eat it because I believe in moderation. Moderation of the good and the bad. And even though I wish my kids could and would eat fabulous, whole foods at all times, I don't want them to hate me for shoving my values down their throats and having friends and family poo-poo them because their mother is a wacko-health freak, which in turn would make them resent me and make them grow into unhealthy, overweight, TV addicts who only eat food from drive-thrus.

I keep having this recurring theme in my life where I come upon something that I think is really interesting and consumes me in a big way and then I find out that a close friend has grown up with that particular thing shoved down their throat as a child. They're so done with what I'm just getting into. And that makes me fear for my own children.

So moderation, my dears, moderation.

So reading stuff about eating local has gotten me into more of the same, only a little deeper. Yesterday at the library we ran in for a few movies for G and I. We got a really well done documentary about Charles Bukowski. It was really sweet and real, and took me back 15 years. S came in and watched the last 20 minutes or so with us. Moderation. And nothing obscene, really.
At any rate, at the library I found an old Reader's Digest book called Back to Basics. It's all about traditional American homesteading. Very cool. Written in the late 1970s, it's totally survivalist, back to the land stuff covering everything from beekeeping (something I've wanted to do for years)and gardening to making mocassins and stupid racoon hats.
The first entry is how to build a sturdy and monstrously huge wooden barn like the Amish would make. The photographs look like Creedence Clearwater Revival called Three Dog Night and asked if they wanted to smoke a bowl and raise a barn.
There are also some sassy ladies with Dorothy Hamill haircuts, short cut-offs and knee-high tube socks churning butter.
Besides be dated (and aren't we all?), the book is awesome. When I have a computer of my own someday (I've got my mom's laptop for the night), I will order a copy of my own from half.com.
It's a keeper.

Tonight, I typed "homesteading" in the search engine. Many, many homesteading information sites are very Christian. Are there no homesteaders of other faiths? And what is all this keeping onself in a bubble stuff? It really makes me uncomfortable. I want to do my share of being a peacemaker by trying to meet, understand and enjoy as many human beings as I can during my lifetime.
I identify as Christian, but I'm okay with my child going to a school with kids with other faith systems and values (that's what I LIKE about the school). I work, and still hold a fairly traditional role in my house. I do pretty much all the cooking, cleaning, gardening, yard work, basement cleaning, child-related stuff, etc. And then I go out for beer with my friends, without my husband. And now I want to be the Urban Homesteader. The not-so-great but always trying Christian who doesn't need to tell everyone that to identify myself. I want to do some work to supply our family with the food we need, or at least a lot of it.

Our Fair City no longer allows poultry within the city limits since the avian flu outbreaks a couple years ago, but I'm about to see if they've got anything in the books about pygmy dairy goats. I want to hack down 3 of many, many maple trees (that reproduce like Gremlins every spring) and grow a couple fruit producing trees. I want to keep bees in my garden.

I feel like I'm on the edge of a personal revolution that will inspire hipster mothers who enjoy getting their hands dirty and are concerned about what their children are eating. You thought the Stitch and Bitch knitting craze was cool? Wait till we raise a very small barn for very small goats in my city-lot back yard.

What would Jesus think? Hopefully, Right on sister. Now turn up that CCR.