It's Alive
This morning, our radiators were warm. At least this year, it wasn't such a shock . . .
We bought the house in August 1999, after it had sat vacant for over a year. At the time it was just shy of 100 years old. In the basement sat the original boiler, converted from coal to gas back around 1910. The term around here for these monsters is the "octopus." My mother calls it the "sculpture."
Fully expecting that the heating system wouldn't work, Jonathan and I researched firms that could give us an assessment of its condition. But moving into a new/old house was time-consuming, and that item on the to-do list didn't happen. Imagine our great surprise one September morning to wake up and feel heat in the radiators! We hadn't lighted a pilot, flipped a switch, set the thermostat, or done absolutely anything.
Now it's 2011 and the heating system continues working fine. In fact, it's quite reliable and even functions when the electricity is out. We've been told that when it finally breaks, there are no replacement parts available. But there are also no moving parts that can malfunction. And even though everyone tells us the old boilers are less efficient, our heating bills are not high by Chicago standards. The house was well-built to hold heat, with radiators in front of windows, and only two windows upstairs from which heat can escape.
Sometimes the old technology really is better.
Bittersweet
In Texas, spring always ranked as my favorite season. The new flowers with their colors made everything fresh and beautiful. Until my mid-30s, Texas was home.
Chicago's best season is fall. The trees sport their reds, yellows, and oranges, and the weather remains mostly mild and dry. The dropping of the leaves portends winter, however, which is extreme here. It's a mental disconnect for me to switch my allegiance from spring to fall, but it's definite that weather conditions here are pretty good right now.
Going Once, Going Twice
Sarah's class includes two girls that she counts as good friends. Their names (as a pair) are amazing--Halie and Bailey. At least the spelling isn't the same!
I thought this set of names was pretty unique, but then Peter came home from school with the news that his social worker Ms. Suarez was being joined by a new ESL instructor. So . . . the two women with whom he does pullout classes are Mss. Suarez and Torres. He and I chuckled about that one.
Humor
A friend gave Kentucky a large toy that looks remarkably like him. The brown stuffed dog is not that much smaller in size and almost the same color. He drags it around everywhere, and chews on it a lot.
Last summer, our quiet nephew observed Kentucky with his toy, and had only one comment:
"Cannibal!"
Battle of the Eggs
For growing kids, eggs provide a cheap source of protein, and we serve them every day for breakfast. I buy in bulk, about 15 dozen for $25. We vary the cooking method as we can, but scrambled are the fastest and most favored by the majority of kids.
Peter, however, dislikes scrambled eggs--intensely. We don't give him very many, but we require that he eat at least some. He's gotten very creative with disposing of them. When Kentucky sits only at Peter's chair and nowhere else, we know to put the dog outside during breakfast. If we leave the table, even briefly, it helps to check the trashcan, as well as what's wrapped inside the discarded napkins on the table.
Yesterday, we served scrambled eggs in tortillas. Peter finished his eggs more quickly than usual, so I thought we had finally found a way that he would eat them. After school, however, Kentucky planted himself at the radiator and wouldn't budge. Jonathan took a yardstick to swipe out all the dust, and socks, and papers. Included in the mess was a wrapped tortilla filled with eggs.
Looks like Kentucky wasn't quite as helpful to Peter this time!
Anniversary
Three years ago today, we adopted Peter. Sept. 23 is the day Jonathan and I stood before the judge and he declared Peter our son and we his parents. For the other five children, our anniversary is August 18, when we all gathered in a courtroom for the same pronouncement.
On Sunday, we will celebrate both events by spending the afternoon at a state park near Chicago. This location provides opportunities for fishing, hiking, grilling, and just plain relaxing.
Four-Letter Words
One of our kids has a big project due on Friday. To make it more manageable, the teacher provided topics and gave the kids free reign in presentation. Power point, speech, display board, acted drama--anything is possible. All the topics relate to the Greek and Roman empires, as a review of material covered last school year.
The topic that our child received is "VIDO." An internet search yielded the information that Vido is a very small island near the Greek city of Corfu. The whole library trip and attendant internet research led to quite a disagreement. Too much noise in the Concordia library, too many protestations, pleading to do Facebook instead, etc. Mom was not pleased.
Jonathan tackled the problem today. He ascertained that the spelling of this four-letter word was not "Vido" but "Ovid." Now THAT makes a difference!
Kaennchens for Two
Peter's tantrums (aka rages) have resumed. Pretty much once a day during the last week. He's been on medication for this problem, and his latest growth spurt means that the dosage needs increasing. We're on it, but there's always some lag time.
The tantrums are very wearing on my nerves, making me very cross with everyone last Monday night. Jonathan could have gotten angry with me, but he is a wise man. Instead, he asked me out on a date.
We met on Tuesday from 1:30 - 2:30 pm at the Sugar Fixe coffee shop. Besides sharing a slice of flourless chocolate cake, we each drank a European-style Kaennchen (jug) of coffee. It comes on a tray with cream and a glass of cold water.
It was wonderful to have some time to enjoy each other's company. And what did we talk about? The kids, of course!
Dislocation
Several of you have asked how my shoulder is faring. In a few days, I will finish my fourth week of physical therapy. The doctor told me that if the shoulder was still painful after completion of PT, I should return for an MRI and possible surgery.
My arm is stronger, and I'm able to do more with it. Piano playing is possible, however, only if I play the instrument like an organ and not a piano. The pain is better, but still there.
Looks like I need another appointment with the orthopedist.
Cell Phone
A good friend loaned us one of their old cell phones, and last night Verizon activated my phone number onto it. So if you need to telephone me, I'm now reachable again by cell phone.
Perfect
Paul kicks for his football team, with a technique honed from years of soccer in Ukraine. In Chicago, however, he and Adam have shunned soccer for other sports, even though they are both quite gifted at it. Like many other immigrants from centuries past, they want to fit into their new culture and leave the old one behind. So Paul plays American football at Walther Lutheran High School, where Adam went out for cross-country and Rachel is cheerleading.
Besides sports, another chapter in high school life is clothing. It's certainly a different type of struggle between what sons want to wear compared to daughters. But that's another story . . . . Walther recently tightened their dress code in response to students texting friends during class. Loose-fitting hoodies and several other types of clothing are no longer allowed. Our kids really chafe under these rules.
Last night, we caught up with an exchange student who lived with our neighbors during the 2003/04 school year. Now Rudo was bringing his father from Slovakia to the U.S. to vacation here and see the places he had enjoyed. Back in 2003 at age 18, Rudo had attended Walther, so he knew our kids' school quite well.
"I hate Walther!" Adam exclaimed, during the conversation. "Especially the dress code." Rudo responded, "Oh, the dress code was ok. In Slovakia, every school has a dress code. What bothered me was that Walther didn't have a soccer team."
I couldn't have scripted it better myself!
Assimilation
Last Saturday, our church celebrated the 100th anniversary of the English District with a wonderful meal based on a German Oktoberfest. Adults cooked for the event, and the youth helped serve and clean up.
At the tables, someone asked our pastor, "What ever happened to those foreign kids--the ones from Russia?"
Pastor Rogers looked up. "Well, the oldest one is in the kitchen helping my son run the dishwasher." He pointed across the room. "Over there are several more of the Stahlke kids." Then he smiled and told the guest, "And one of them just refilled your coffee cup!"
Anniversary
In our family, the word "anniversary" usually means August 18 and September 23. These are adoption anniversaries for the older five (August 18) and Peter (September 23), as well as our wedding anniversary (August 18). So the idea of a September 11 anniversary didn't make much sense to some of our kids. They thought anniversaries were for joyful events, not difficult ones. We explained that the word calls us to remembrance of a past event.
The tenth anniversary of 9-11 lands on a Sunday, and the Scripture readings were chosen years before the events in New York, Virginia, Pennsylvania, and the wars of the last decade. It's no coincidence, however, that the readings are so significant for the occasion. To learn more, see the readings in our bulletin, and also our pastor's sermon:
http://www.trinitylutheranvp.com/church-bulletin.html
http://www.trinitylutheranvp.com/docs/9-11-11Pentecost%2013-1.pdf
Corrections Made
I'm going to stick to the old interface for blogger, which made it easy to fix my post from last Tuesday. Guess I'm showing my age, wanting technology to slow down.
As we waited to start our staff meeting yesterday, a mother described her child's first computer class as a freshman in college. The students worked through several typical computer tasks--formatting a document, creating a spreadsheet, sending an attachment with an Email message, etc. The daughter texted her mother for advice on sending an Email, since she had no experience doing so. Who needs Email when you have Facebook?
Apologies
Blogger has started a new interface, and the formatting didn't work correctly. Sorry for the absence of paragraph breaks in my previous post. It's time to pick Peter up from school, so I'll work on fixing it tomorrow.
LaBBBBRRRRR Day
Paul had football practice yesterday, but the rest of us spent the day at Lake Michigan. The wind blew so hard we couldn't wear hats, and the waves crashed with great drama. A few of us walked along the beach, since swimming was prohibited due to the rough water. Wading actually felt warm in comparison to the air. It was a beautiful, crisp day following last Friday's record heat and humidity.
I left my purse at home, but had thrown a few necessary items into a large blue book bag. At the beach, a family member was always sitting with our things, but the thief was wily and took my bag without anyone noticing. When we left for lunch, the loss became evident. Even though the kids and I searched every trashcan and all the bushes in the area, nothing showed up. But then Jonathan got a phone call that someone had found my belongings in Greektown, about two miles away.
We jumped in the car and met the callers, who handed me my blue bag. Several items, valuable only to me, still remained inside. The best recoveries were my driver's license and calendar. What a relief. Several of us searched the area where the bag was found, and several more items showed up, all strewn across a lonely section of dirt under the "L" tracks. Another find that pleased me no end was my ring of house keys. All there, that is, except the skeleton key to our house. A nearby police officer told me, however, that the thief probably took the skeleton key as a memento (since it's old). He/she left behind my license and calendar, both containing the house address, and the cop said they wouldn't likely have taken the time to write down the address.
My total losses added up to the skeleton key, two pairs of athletic socks, and my (2-1/2 year old) cell phone. I gained back far more than I ever imagined possible--calendar, driver's license, car keys, most of my house and church keys, and even the book I just bought on touring Sweden (it's never too soon to prepare for that future trip I want to take!). The children learned about being a theft victim, and I will definitely be more careful the next time we head to a public place.
Passing the Buck
Last night, our music season at church kicked off with a party for the adult musicians. When I told Peter about the upcoming activities, I described the room where we would eat:
“As you walk in, Christmas music is playing over the speakers and the tables are decked with holiday colors [striped red and white this year]."
“Mom, that’s weird. It’s HOT outside!”
“After eating, we assemble in the music room to sing Christmas music. After a while, we switch over to Easter music.”
His indignation heightened. “Mom, Easter is NEXT YEAR!!”
His sense of liturgical timing had been assaulted.
“Peter, everyone likes to sing Easter hymns. Let’s sing one right now.“
We belted out the first verse of “Jesus Christ is Risen Today,” which he sang with great gusto.
“Peter, I saw you smile as you sang that song! It is fun, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but Mom, it’s still a weird idea. Celebrating Christmas and Easter, now?”
“Actually, Peter, it wasn’t my idea. I heard about this kind of party from . . . Pastor!”
