Seven, Somewhat Quickish

1.  Looking at the quite reasonable possibility that we'll be moving again soon.  Can you hear the springs squeak as I shift uneasily in my chair? I hate moving.  But, though we love the house we're in, the rent is too high, and we've come to the conclusion that there really is no chance we can buy it (asking too much)  -- so we're looking for something else before our landlord can sell this one out from under us. 

We've had our eye on a honey of a place that just suits us, though. A place we hope we can buy. It's not the walk to school and Mass we have now, but it's only ten minutes' drive away and is in a very nice location, tucked into the hills and corn fields, and a better distance from any big roads than we are now.  It's an 1890s home, with two stories and a partially finished attic -- on about 7 acres with a spring and irrigation.  It was in the process of going into foreclosure when we started the paperwork on a short sale a couple weeks ago.  But, not only is the short sale process complex and drawn out, but it's with Bank of America (Ugh.) -- and, as the house needs work, we're bidding low, so the bank may have to be convinced by St. Joseph to give us the go-ahead.  Saying a novena (or two) now...  Here's a pic of the house:



I know...  It doesn't look like much to the untrained eye. But you should see it through the goggles of hopes, dreams, and sweat equity that we're wearing...



  2.  Somewhat on the same subject -- you know, along the lines of us moving around a lot in recent years...  One of my siblings (bless 'em!)  called us gypsies recently.  Gypsies?  Harumph!  When I think of us, gypsies don't come to mind in the least... Most of us are too fair and freckled, for one thing.  But, more on-topic:  gypsies prefer not to have a permanent home, while having a permanent home is all I think about.  I have binders and folders full of magazine-clipped home decor and color swatches planned out for all the different houses we've owned -- or even thought about being able to own -- for the last twenty years.  I have graph paper designs of additions I'd make long before we ever make an offer on a house.  I have the gardens penciled in and the fruit trees planted. Even  if it rolled, I'd find a way to dig a root cellar and add additions.  And there'd be orchards and gardens around my gypsy wagon.  And stone walls...  And a spring house...  And...  Hang on a minute while I get my graph paper...

3.  I took exception to being called a gypsy; yes, I did.   But a sweet girl made me feel better this afternoon, giving me a much more positive subtitle. 

We have a dairy near our home where we get our milk and cheese.  (GREAT stuff, too, I might add.  If you ever come across Rocking W cheese, do get some!)  There's the cutest young lady that works there -- probably nineteen or twenty years old, and in the last year we've gotten to be somewhat acquainted.  She always gets a kick out of trying to recognize the different kids when they come in with me -- but I've never told her how many we have altogether until today.  It just hadn't come up.  But, we were in for milk and cream this afternoon (to make ice cream this weekend), and since it was just a couple of us Davises and little Alicia whom we occasionally babysit, she had a short count.  She didn't know Alicia, of course, but I reminded her that she'd met Cathy before. "She's child number six,"  I told her. 

At that, the sweet young lady's eyebrows shot up and she exclaimed, "SIX!  Wow!"  she said, "You sure hold it together well for having six kids!  My Mom has five and she's crazy." 

Now, I don't know whether she meant her mom is crazy because she decided to have five children, or whether  the five children drove her crazy and I thought about asking her, but decided instead to have some fun --  and told her how many kids we have.  Then I waited for the reaction.  She was speechless for a moment.  There was no telling how she'd reply to that little bomb.  You never know, ya know.  Even the nicest, most diplomatic, supportive, and tolerant folks out there have a hard time knowing what to say sometimes.  And I really do understand; it's out of the ordinary for most folks to hear the number "ten" in the same sentence with "children in our family"....  But, of all the responses I've ever gotten, I like our little milk maid's the best.  With a big bright smile, she said, "Ten!  YOU are a force to be reckoned with!"

Haha!  Gotta love that!

(I guess, all things considered, I really am! Or, anyway, WE are.  By sheer strength of numbers if nothing else!)

4. The Reader's Digest rocks.  After almost twenty-five years of subscribing, I still look forward to its arrival in the mail every month, regular as the change of the calendar page.  We got our first edition as an unexpected, but welcome wedding gift from my Dad, and somewhere along the way (I really don't even know when) picked up the tab, ourselves.  But The Reader's Digest has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.  One of my fondest memories of childhood is my NC grandfather, sitting at the kitchen table as my grandmother cooked dinner, reading to her from its pages.  In college, I had the audacity to use a RD short story to dissect for an English class.  The professor thought it was beneath her and cautioned me to look for more esteemed publications in the future.  Puh-lease.  Can you believe that?  Who cares about high-falutin' and esteemed?  The Reader's Digest gets read!

 How 'bout these numbers:  According to Mediamark Research, it reaches more readers with household incomes of $100,000+ than Fortune, The Wall Street Journal, Business Week and Inc. combined.

Global editions of Reader's Digest reach an additional 40 million people in more than 70 countries, with 50 editions in 21 languages. It has a global circulation of 17 million, making it the largest paid circulation magazine in the world. It is also published in Braille, digital, audio, and a version in large type called Reader's Digest Large Print. (Wikipedia)

There's a lot of good stuff in the pages of little Reader's Digest.  You've got articles on health and finances, collections of jokes, mind-benders and vocabulary quizzes, humorous essays, articles of topical interest of the day, fiction and non-fiction short stories...  And it's all in a magazine sized just right to fit in your purse.  What more could anyone ask?

5.  Which leads me to ths:  In the RD this month, I found a link to a fascinating, thought-provoking photographic blog called  TheBurningHouse.  The question asked is this:   If your house was burning, what would you take with you? It's a conflict between what's practical, valuable and sentimental. What you would take reflects your interests, background and priorities. Think of it as an interview condensed into one question.

The submissions  (one is posted every day or two) answer with a photo collage of personal items. Such a neat premise for a blog.  Go check it out.  Makes you ponder.

6.  So, yeah...  Ten things for me would have to be the kids if they were all here.  Dan would be on his own.  But, hmmm...  Since I've only got five children just now in the theoretically burning down house, I guess I'd have to grab my backpack by the door that's got my wallet, my keys, my most recent "read" and my reading glasses. So that counts for a sixth item.  Then I'd grab my grandmother's doll, Helen and the big statue of the Blessed Mother that is right next to her in my bedroom.  That's eight.  And I'd have to grab the CPU off the desk here because it's got all my pictures in it.  (Gotta get an external drive for them!)  And that's nine.  Hmmmm...  Ten, though --  would probably be something stupid.  Like the battery operated jar of fireflies by the front door.  Or maybe my vintage raggedy Anne and Andy off the top of the kitchen cabinets.  Or one of a dozen special religious statues or pictures.  Or, if I were really thinking, I'd have to grab my St. Joseph's missal from off the end of the counter.  Those are hard to find, and mine has all my special holy cards in all the right places...  Yeah, it'd have to be the missal.

7.  So, homeschooling's going swimmingly with my one little fifth grader.  Strangely quiet and strangely easy teaching only one child.  But, even so.  Got flashcards to start some Latin vocabulary study with Catherine, and we just. can't. seem. to. work it into our school schedule.  It's not like it's a hard thing to tackle, or that it'd take much time, or that either of us has anything at all against Latin.  But we're almost a month into this school thing and haven't picked those danged cards up once.   ~Sigh~  Ah, well....  Verbis defectis musica incipit.  Et -- Gustatus similis pullus...

Cathy Not-As-Yet-A-Latin-Scholar
(Does she look sad to you?)



  Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum videtur...

* For More Quick Takes from All Over, run over to Jennifer's at Conversion Diary...