Seven

(Sorta) Guilty Admissions

Yep.  Even dress up to
go hiking.  

1) I have a vanity issue to confess.  I'm not a big makeup wearer; I mean insomuch as I don't actually apply gobs of makeup. Honest. I try very hard to not look like a clown or a goth or a mime or something...  But, I don't ever leave my room in the morning without my hair fixed, my outfit and jewelry carefully chosen -- and my makeup on.  I'm not sure if it's insecurity or personal dignity at work -- or possibly that I feel like I can't move properly into the day, feeling ready and in charge without putting my best face forward, literally...  But, yeah.  If you catch me without makeup and jewelry on and my hair combed, I'm sick.  Like, really sick.  Too sick to be vain.  So be really nice to me, ok?
on

2)   I'm a total sucker for religious art of any kind and will spend way too much to rescue found treasures.  I can barely even dicker someone down over them; it seems somehow disloyal to the sancta in the image not to just give whatever is asked.  (Weird, I know, especially since I'm usually an obnoxious bargainer...) Anyway, I'm not saying how much I spent for this rustic beauty on our antiquing trek last weekend...  But don't ya love it?

Needs some touching up, but there's a place for a votive candle and holy water,
and a little slot for a crucifix behind the holy water.  I'm gonna have to see if
Dominic will carve me a crucifix...

3)  I like to go up and down the aisles of the dollar store, looking for treasures, and the ladies at the thrift stores nearby know me by name.  It doesn't bother me at all that this is sort of "ghetto," as some of my children put it -- and I can honestly say that if we ever struck it rich, I still would never ever shop at Neiman Marcus or Saks 5th Ave.  For one thing, I would just feel terribly out of place.  But, more so: I would feel like I was being robbed.  You see, being a thrifter my whole life, I'd always know, that with enough hunting around I could find the exact same (or a very similar) skirt, or purse, or lamp, or whatever at a thrift store somewhere for a tiny fraction of the price.  And the thrill of the hunt would be so much more satisfying.  So, I guess, along with the fact that I'm a beer drinker (as I get into below), this revelation scoots me down from solidly middle class to hangin' onto the bottom of the middle class rung of the ladder... I have a little guilt that this places my children in a certain socio-economic strata by default.  But it's just a little guilt.  Seeing as we've never yet struck it rich, thrift stores are what's kept them from going around nekkid all these years.

4)  Even though I have been homeschooling my children for more than twenty years and have taught Math up to the point where they hit Algebra, I'm not actually sure I could get a long division problem right without looking at the answers in the teachers' edition.  Sad, yes, but true.   

5)  I take advantage of every opportunity not to cook. The culinary love has completely deserted my heart,

Chef Anna and Chef Cathy

I tell you.  Not that I've ever been a foodie particularly, but nowadays, I'm not even an "eatie."  My diet is so stinking restricted (a modified Paleo diet for a variety of health reasons), that nothing yummy this way comes -- ever.  And I just can't sacrifice whatever it is that needs sacrificing to cook delectables for the children that I can't eat.  I know I'd be the better person (and super-woman, I think) if I could do it.  But, alas!  It's a good thing my children are such excellent cooks.  They really are, too.  And getting better all the time.  We have a rotating schedule of  chefs, with a different child (over ten) planning the menu and cooking every night of the week, except for weekends, which Dan and I cover.  Thank the good Lord the kid-chefs enjoy it, too.  In fact, a couple weeks ago, Cathy (12 and perhaps my best cook) asked if they could keep the kid-cooking rotation going even if I didn't have to be on my lousy diet any more.

You know what I said, right?

6)   I'm a closet slob.  No, I mean, actually a *closet* slob.  I keep my room clean; I do my level best to keep my house clean, in general; I even try to keep the yard and porch presentable.  But my closet?  It's a mess!  I don't know why I have this problem with hanging things up...  I expect there's some deep psychological meaning behind it.  Or not.  I'm debating right now, in fact, having brought this up, whether I should be cleaning up my closet or blogging.  Guess which idea is winning?

7)   I love beer.  The darker and stronger the better.  I expect most folks know that about me by now.  Guinness and I are particularly fond friends -- though we only meet every once in a blue moon. I've come to terms with the notion that this is not a particularly cultured or ladylike taste preference... but, I have to tell ya (and here's the guilty admission)  it was a freeing moment for me -- spiritually -- (No, really!) to accept that I could never be a wine connoisseur, that my tastes are not refined, that I am a plain ole' middle-class, run of the mill beer drinker.  It was a moment of divine humility to realize it -- and when I finally did realize it, I declare the restricting chains of high falutin' expectations for myself clattered down around me -- and I lifted my (figurative) arms to the heavens in a happy dance of freedom.

For better or worse, it seems to be a genetic thing...

Thank God in Heaven I was free at last!

I could jubilantly admit that I like -- no, I love -- coffee and beer, not tea and wine!  No upper crust libations for this girl!  Hallelujah!  And no worries about it at all!  The truth is I find I have more in common with the beer drinking folks usually, anyway; we laugh at the same jokes and put our feet up on coffee tables, God help us.  And I'm smiling as I type out the fact of it.  I'd rather be a joyful beer drinker than an unhappy wine sipper. Someday, when my spiritual shadow darkens the threshold of the pearly gates (I'm hoping!), I will happily join the saints in the corner singing Irish drinking songs -- with my feet up on the coffee table.  And I will toast y'all heavenly wine sippers at the tea table in middle of the room.

Run over to Jennifer's blog, Conversion Diary, for lots of links to lots of Quick Takes!