tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4966973312480269512012-02-18T21:29:23.223-06:00A writer's blog: part social commentary (more Limbaugh than Letterman), part religion (more Aquinas than Aquarius), part poetry (more Silverstein than Shakespeare), part wife and mother (more Lucille B. than Martha S.), part daughter, sister, friend.sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.comBlogger1001100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-30341966693456993742012-02-18T21:00:00.003-06:002012-02-18T21:29:23.232-06:00

I am reading a book called Last Child in the Woods. The author's premise is that recent generations' distance from nature is having detrimental effects on everything from attention to creativity. He terms the problem Nature Deficit Disorder. With our technological and smaller world, many have access to untold information about nature and have travelled across the globe, but, he argues, our

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-41270293111335579742012-01-15T12:36:00.002-06:002012-01-15T12:41:21.800-06:00

For anyone who is interested. Following are my Christmas Letters.Edward, God gives us many gifts all through our lives. It seems the greatest ones are often the those we forget. Christ was the greatest gift to the world. I hope This Christmas, one gift I give to you, is the chance to remember that and feel the great peace and joy that settled over the whole earth the night when He was born.

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-71968500788565491112012-01-15T11:11:00.003-06:002012-01-15T12:25:51.959-06:00

Now, officially out of the Christmas Season, I am still in a sort of daze at the success of our radical Christmas. I knew that all my efforts to create a new kind of Christmas experience would one day be recognized by my children. But I was certainly not prepared for what happened. We did quite a few things we have never done before, like working a soup kitchen on Christmas Day, but the real

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-66622153287388320772011-12-18T06:44:00.003-06:002011-12-18T07:22:15.529-06:00

I haven't written in a long time. I haven't had those compelling urges where I need to get an idea down in writing. I am not sure why. Maybe my creative energies have been being used else where, maybe I haven't had a thought in my head, maybe it is hormones. Who knows. The greatest indicator of this is that I did not send out Christmas Cards this year. I know some people dread this

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-85357424226984199402011-11-12T05:37:00.003-06:002011-11-12T06:26:55.998-06:00

Service has been on my mind for awhile now.I volunteered to head up the sixth grade service project for my son's class. It was important to me that the experience be a meaningful one. In preparing for this project, I came up with some things to think about if you are trying to instill in your own children a spirit of service.1. All work can BE service. I think there is a danger in calculating

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-39808216552185142732011-11-06T18:55:00.002-06:002011-11-06T19:46:35.209-06:00

The Devil has been a hot topic of conversation of late. I blame Halloween. The girls started by being DE vils. Feminine devils according to them. They do not have horns, but they look enough like devils to lure them in, and then they shock them with the news of Jesus. ? Yea, don't ask me. All I know for sure is they wear red or black.My daughters are much like I was. I hated to say in

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-23771118170002592992011-10-26T20:00:00.004-05:002011-10-26T21:02:08.065-05:00

I was told a story recently of love and pain. Love and pain live along a vast and rolling landscape. They are hard to describe, hard to measure and sometimes hard to believe. But sometimes they are very simple. Thomas was having a hard time. Most of the time he didn't mind that he was different. But sometimes he did. He liked chess and imaging himself a knight fighting dragons. He liked

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-62274641731590480202011-06-10T23:47:00.003-05:002011-06-11T00:11:01.050-05:00

Okay, you know you are an official blogger slacker when your computer doesn't finish your address for you when you type it in. Sorry!As a mother of five, I know enough to know one thing. I am not an expert!I have also found that other mothers are the best source of food for thought and tricks of the trade. And so I offer the following tid bits that I tell myself, or my kids, on a regular

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-59487138442338519852011-03-15T20:55:00.002-05:002011-03-15T21:13:33.997-05:00

Why did my car get a flat tire? Why did I win the lottery? Why is my child sick?Why does this cup of coffee taste so good? Why did I get stuck in traffic behind THAT bumper sticker?Why are you my friend? Why can't I find that stupid key? Why did she call right when I needed her to? Why did I over sleep?Why did the cardinal build her nest outside my window? Why are they fighting now?Why do they

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-67396984794355867102011-01-31T21:56:00.002-06:002011-01-31T22:33:05.547-06:00

I was filling out a form which asked me to include a brief summary describing my marriage. Hu? How in the world do you answer that question? It reminded me of the question: Tell me about your childhood. What? Do you want to know about the imaginary triplets I had living in my attic? Or did you want to hear about how I used to pretend like I was a paraplegic who had to drag myself to my

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-66562728354982333002011-01-19T13:11:00.008-06:002011-01-19T18:41:02.309-06:00

The academic question of ethics has been a passion of mine. I am convinced that there is a right and a wrong and that we as human beings are given the gift of reason to figure it out. I have described in an earlier post (The Beauty of Truth, July 10, 2009) about an assignment I gave my high school student which attempted to force them to approach moral issues from a logical rather than an

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-90930335556117630052011-01-17T19:37:00.002-06:002011-01-17T19:55:13.735-06:00

I just remembered one of my first poems. It has a funny story. Two of my good friends were down on guys. We had the opinion that they were all jerks. I wrote the following poem for them. Of the three of us, I was the only literary one. They had more of a mathematical bent and did not consider writing poetry as anything more than educational torture. One needed a poem for English class.

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-31719118322811119462011-01-17T16:01:00.003-06:002011-01-17T16:19:21.973-06:00

I am in a poemey mood:Settles in my neckHead won't turnBurrows in my chestAche not burnBuzzes in my headAngry beesHunches forth my backWeakens kneesSprings forth from my eyesSalty hotCriss crosses my skinNo wise thoughtWakes me in the nightSticky sheetsLingers in dawn's lightNo retreatSteals lungs of all airHeart beats hardSteals soul of its joyHelp me, Lord.HOPESettles in my soulShoots of

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-70966642352849091652011-01-11T10:44:00.002-06:002011-01-11T11:41:59.135-06:00

So, my two oldest sons are terrible eaters. It is my fault, I know. With my oldest, I was a nervous wreck about the whole eating thing. We had to start him on prune juice when he was very young, I'll let you figure out why. I hadn't even started him on rice cereal at that point. I had read all the literature: Vegetables BEFORE fruit. So, I started feeding him solid food way too early. He

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-47737866634359599422011-01-03T07:55:00.003-06:002011-01-03T08:49:08.608-06:00

It's a new year. Did you make resolutions and all that jazz? I always do. I think we all do, even if it isn't specific. I think it must be programmed into our DNA to desire a fresh start at certain times in the changing year. I always laugh at the gym in the first week of the new year. It is packed, I am sure with people who are trying to make a fresh start, a healthier life, a slimmer

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-6129929109519033792010-12-13T20:22:00.003-06:002010-12-13T21:22:26.684-06:00

Hobbies. Do you have any? What exactly are they besides a running joke in our house that my husband has none. The dictionary says: An activity or interest pursued outside one's regular occupation and engaged in primarily for pleasure.'Primarily for pleasure'. That gives them a bit of a negative connotation doesn't it? It implies they have no inherent value or are some how selfish in nature

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-47754354092528439452010-11-23T12:53:00.003-06:002010-11-23T13:41:05.236-06:00

I love the conversation in the Passion between Jesus and the criminals. I love Luke's version. I have to admit I am always a little disappointed when the church year uses one of the Gospel's that doesn't distinguish between the good and the bad thief. In the Roman Church Tradition, the good thief's name is Dysmus. Though not a recognized saint, he is often referred to as St. Dysmus.I have

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-1020274607972588932010-11-12T12:07:00.005-06:002010-11-12T17:31:19.320-06:00

You may have figured out, I love Juvenile Literature. I also love the genre that elaborates through prequel or sequel the story of a well known and loved character. It also might not surprise you that I love Peter Pan. The genius of JM Berry can be in part measured by the many stories that were born from the characters of this beloved book.The Disney Faeries' stories discussed briefly in The

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-77622852700136493352010-11-08T12:30:00.001-06:002010-11-08T12:32:08.448-06:00

Anonymous:For my children, and for you and me the question is always how it "could be". We do not need to be taught how it is. We know. Disappointment comes so very naturally. It is hope that must be nurtured.That the one good deed was not done for you, unfortunately is not God's fault. He has given his creatures Free Will. Humanity may have let you down, I assure you, God has not. Just

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-61838483254422542672010-10-25T21:01:00.003-05:002010-10-25T21:41:17.720-05:00

I got a baby grand piano for my fortieth birthday. It was a gift from my dead grandmother, so to speak. I think she might be a bit appalled at its lack of practicality, but I love it. It is so way cooler than a dining room table that could be in the dining room instead. Do I play? Yes, of course I do. Do I play well? Not so much. I can read music about as well as someone who took seven

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-28902348716249620312010-10-23T18:42:00.002-05:002010-10-23T19:48:47.246-05:00

Let me begin by saying that my identity crisis should in no way be construed as a slight to any other human being. What fulfills us, what gives us joy, what is frustrating or depressing or gross is different for each of us. There are some commonalities between all human beings in these areas, but in what we choose from our various daily activities to define ourselves, we are all unique.So lets

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-82573758019130056012010-09-24T08:04:00.003-05:002010-09-24T09:05:18.653-05:00

Let me begin by saying I have always thought Diversity to be over rated. Not real diversity, but the modern concept of diversity for its own sake. Also, the definition of diversity bugs me. It simply means a room full of people who look different. Or in the model of corporate America, a room with more minority faces than white.I remember a friend once telling me she had always wished to be

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-81754114921025170742010-09-16T21:28:00.004-05:002010-09-16T22:53:18.961-05:00

Images are a recurring topic of conversation in my life. In various debates, my husband has emphasized the strength of our childhood memories. His inparticularly are the images he has of marriage from his own parents. My mother has images of her own mother sitting on the porch, the couch, the bed saying her rubber banded book of daily prayers. But she also recalls an image vivid in her mind

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-52270024244603699322010-09-10T15:19:00.007-05:002010-09-10T17:45:26.374-05:00

I remember being taught an important lesson when reading Catcher in the Rye in high school: a narrator is not necessarily honest. A writer may choose to make his main character a liar. He may try and get his reader to find the truths through the lies. I didn't learn the lesson then, I think I liked Holden Caufield as an adolescent because I too wasn't necessarily honest. Neither of us would

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-67714798305628472472010-08-30T20:48:00.002-05:002010-08-30T21:45:29.036-05:00

I haven't posted in awhile and I feel guilty. So, true to its name here is a post about just this and that:I love fall. Everything about it: The clothes, the food, the weather, the sports, the holidays, the smells, the leaves. the memories.I got the exterior of my house repainted and all the wood rot fixed. I even had the deck replaced. It looks wonderful.I cling to the notion that when you

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-77481813036141970342010-07-20T08:40:00.002-05:002010-07-20T10:05:31.781-05:00

My math skills are a running joke in my family. I found an old SRA test from third or fourth grade, and I scored in the 7th percentile. I never learned my times tables. I remember trying to memorize them, a few stuck. But I didn't know what I was memorizing. They were just random numbers to me. I took the college prep math courses in high school and I think I may have even managed a B- one

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-77355156531552498632010-07-07T21:28:00.003-05:002010-07-07T21:42:53.471-05:00

I needed a miracle. My son’s Godfather just received a year to live. For some reason, the news did not devastate me. Immediately, I had a sense of hope. I don’t know from whence it came or why I reacted such. I just had a feeling we could get a miracle.I began a google search for a potential saint who needed a miracle for canonization. Several times my search came up with nothing current.

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-84576111453325471402010-06-14T18:31:00.002-05:002010-06-14T19:19:53.186-05:00

I had great teachers in my life. When I became a teacher I had to make a choice. Well, actually, i didn't have a choice, I just had to come to terms. I realized that there were two kinds of great teachers: the ones you loved and the ones you respected. Think back. How many of you can name a teacher that you hated at the time, but what you gained from them you wouldn't trade for anything?

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-39457319774341710232010-06-04T14:10:00.003-05:002010-06-04T14:38:55.106-05:00

I think it is true, that if you want to know about the clock, it is best to study one well made clock thoroughly before moving on. Looking quickly at five million clocks will not teach you as much as the knowledge you could gain from studying that one time piece until you know exactly how it works, how it was made, how it breaks and how to fix it again.Such is the theory behind the study of

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-87675197927875578422010-06-04T09:15:00.002-05:002010-06-04T09:23:13.257-05:00

I have no business background. I am the stay at home mom of five children. I eat bon bons all day and listen to Conservative Talk Radio. I would watch Fox news, but we don't choose to have cable. I think I read a book once in college, but I can't remember what it was, unless you count Diary of a Wimpy Kid, I read that five times. I am probably a racist at heart, except that one of my children

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-30730602452763227592010-05-12T19:53:00.004-05:002010-05-12T20:07:43.976-05:00

My Father in Law bought us a subscription to a magazine called Touchstone. I like the magazine, but don't love it. Until today. There was an article that explained one of my greatest pet peeves. It is that Shakespeare's line "To thine own self be true" is by no means a series of words to live by. The article explains what has always been my complaint, that the Bard is not saying all of his

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-7978851886243686442010-05-06T21:03:00.004-05:002010-05-07T09:39:37.267-05:00

I saw some pictures of signs from a radical Islamic rally in Europe and was going to write about my reaction. But I realized that my writing has tended toward the negative and wanted to write with inspiration from a different muse. So, today I will write about faeries.Let me start by saying that yes, I believe in faeries. If you don't, I am sorry for you. And just so you don't think I am the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-31847237443655690072010-04-21T08:55:00.002-05:002010-04-21T10:29:15.780-05:00

Stress is a funny thing. I suppose in the natural, evolutionary, biological, whatever scheme of things it is part of our instinctual mechanism for self preservation: Part of the process leading to fight or flight. But as we are not likely to run into a bear around the corner, I wonder why it is such a very common and overwhelmingly large part of the life of modern man.What is it that we are

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-39565505051786065762010-04-11T20:41:00.002-05:002010-04-11T20:47:47.240-05:00

I am in the process of making the "I'm Bored Box." I would like to take credit for the idea, but it was my husband's.I am writing things on little cards to put in a box to have my children pick when I get the daily "I'm Bored" whine.Write a letter.Read a book.Vacuum the stairs.Clean the first floor toilet.Make a card.Do a Math Page.Clean the blinds.Mop the hard woods.Play the piano for fifteen

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-7612526265529126722010-04-10T10:10:00.003-05:002010-04-10T11:19:06.359-05:00

At a team building conference, my husband picked out of a hat the question: What is the best advice you have ever been given. With out hesitation he answered: At the age of eleven or so my father told me, the most important decision you will ever make in your life is the choice of your bride.The answer seemed to have made an impact on at least a few people. One woman asked during the conference

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-290989967429533752010-03-31T09:59:00.002-05:002010-03-31T10:27:20.930-05:00

Holy Week for Christians celebrates the most important events in our faith.The Tridiuum begins on Holy Thursday with the celebration of the Lord's supper. For Catholics this is where Christ instituted the Eucharist and the priesthood. The celebratory mass includes the ritual of the washing of the feet which symbolizes the Christians' duty to serve his fellow man in imitation of Christ. At the end

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-56717128422245354502010-03-26T22:50:00.005-05:002010-03-26T23:04:42.547-05:00

We have adopted before from China but brought home a 10 month old. We have never had any issues whatsoever with her. The neatest part about the whole process was how unconditionally my three bio kids accepted her into their band of brothers.I expected the same reaction from my children, who were so excited about the rospect of their new six year old brother. However, the transition was not

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-77483272827329886232010-03-24T10:00:00.004-05:002010-03-24T10:30:38.329-05:00

I am a very independent person. I am not likely to ask for help. I can think back through my life to some instances where I needed help, and though I didn't ask for it, it came:When I was in college and in a terrible room mate situation, my younger brother wrote me from home: "You can deal with this, I know you can. For you, I have quit biting my nails. I can now pick up pennies and pop zits. If

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-47180304247521085062010-03-15T20:25:00.002-05:002010-03-15T20:51:05.240-05:00

It has been awhile since I have had time to think, let alone write. My life has been a crazy whirlwind: some good some bad. The biggest change is that I have enrolled my children in Catholic School after homeschooling for five years. We are all very excited about the new opportunities a Catholic School Culture will provide.There are darling plaid uniforms, school masses, a lunch room. There will

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-68017455401703297072010-02-20T12:42:00.002-06:002010-02-20T13:08:50.662-06:00

Let's say you need some brown boots. You bought a black pair about three years ago, but it has been at least eight years since you even thought about brown ones. You have no idea what is in style, what is out there or what you even want. You know you can't wear the stilettos that you have seen on people in the street. Are there even a short heeled boot being made now days?So you put boots into

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-87558147106123931632010-02-09T21:37:00.003-06:002010-02-09T22:18:38.911-06:00

I love words. I am a writer. I am a talker. I love the written word, and I consider conversation to be the heart of all relationships. So how am I doing with a child who doesn't know more than ten English words? How am I communicating with a boy who speaks two languages, neither a language in which I understand a word?Watching him for ten days in his country of origin, I already know that he too

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-70930649323434111242010-01-19T19:09:00.002-06:002010-01-19T19:39:40.682-06:00

On my adoption yahoo group, one of the members asked for those of us who had received our referral to tell how we got the call. I thought I would share my story here.For those who know little of the international adoption process, your referral is when you are placed with a child. You receive their name and picture and whatever other history the orphanage can provide. This process in the program

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-37755195774065708012010-01-07T17:42:00.005-06:002010-01-07T19:06:24.648-06:00

The snow sits on our deck in feet, not inches. The temperature with wind chill is forecast to be thirty below zero tonight. I sit by a warm fire enjoying the beauty of the white world through my windows.The tree still sits in the living room, but the lights and decorations have all been put away. I began the new year attempting a resolution I made many years ago: In my twenties, I was fairly

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-71488036786149601772010-01-02T08:16:00.002-06:002010-01-02T08:41:10.298-06:00

I was challenged by a friend and fellow blogger at www.DandelionDayz.com to sum up my goals for 2010 in one word. I do so here and pass the challenge on to you in my comment section or on your own blog, facebook, twitter, etc. I would love to read what you have to say.I have chosen Kindness:Entry Word: kindnessFunction: nounMeaning: 1. an act of kind assistance 2 the capacity for feeling for

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-11289971780953298222009-12-20T14:27:00.002-06:002009-12-20T17:15:54.252-06:00

An unapologetic conservative, I have for awhile been pondering what exactly that means. There are social conservatives and economic conservatives. Conservative can even describe our taste in clothing or home decor.By definition, a conservative favors traditional views and values. There is an element of restrain and resistance to change in the conservative.As the country becomes more polarized

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-82451866286031793762009-12-07T10:23:00.003-06:002009-12-07T10:39:36.170-06:00

If you are around my age, you may remember this as a television show that came on around the holidays staring Loretta Swift (of MASH fame.) We rediscovered it as an audio tape by Barbara Robinson.It tells the story from a little girl's perspective recalling a very extraordinary Christmas Pageant. Her mother is put in charge of the pageant that is the same every year after the normal director

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-6847610058011282542009-12-06T08:39:00.002-06:002009-12-06T08:48:44.733-06:00

Last Term in my Bible study group we read parts of all fourteen narrative books in the bible. Moving from Genesis to Acts in eight weeks. Now I spent two weeks reflecting on just a few verses from James. From my talk, my thoughts on James 1: 5-8. Wisdom:Laura told us two weeks ago to take off our academic hat and put on our life changing hat and here we are at session one being called to be

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-51149862619743208652009-12-03T20:21:00.003-06:002009-12-03T20:54:00.401-06:00

I belong to the most wonderful Bible Study Group. This is my fourth or fifth year with the group, I have lost count. I found the group quite by accident. I was trying to find a Catechises of the Good Shepherd Class for my children that met during the day and was led to this group. Truth be told, I was not too excited about having to actually do anything myself. I have never been much of a bible

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-83797883210555124612009-12-02T09:01:00.003-06:002009-12-02T09:06:31.262-06:00

One of the joys of the Internet is that you get to meet people you will probably never see face to face. Chat rooms and blogs allow you to build relationships with people with whom you have a common interest or a shared experience.One of my cyber friends just returned home from Ethiopia with her darling new baby girl. When she returned, I had a MasterCard Moment:Airline tickets: $1800.00Video

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-25562010169937591862009-11-29T13:23:00.003-06:002009-11-29T14:01:39.758-06:00

Hustle and Bustle stores filled with toysJingle and Jangle heads filled with noiseHouse drowning in tissue, lights which don't workFlour spread countertops 'til you might go bizerkPage upon page of not to miss salesCard upon card to be signed, sealed and mailedHustle and Bustle life filled with stressJingle and jangle house filled with messMusic floating sweetly on airExcitement of children

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-86377946160569501552009-11-20T17:36:00.004-06:002009-11-20T19:35:12.030-06:00

The adoption process is a long and arduous one. You start with a Home Study which requires a social worker to come into your home. This is frustrating as no Home Study is required to give birth. The biggest joke in ours was the fire extinguisher. We were required to have one. I told my Social Worker the first time around that I had chosen not to have a fire extinguisher. "Looks too much like a

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-82093935748894100952009-11-17T18:04:00.004-06:002009-11-17T18:15:13.498-06:00

In Ethiopia, unlike many international adoptions, it is very likely that you will have the opportunity to meet a birth family member of your child. The child is unable to accompany you on this visit. For this reason, I was hesitant to go if a family member was even available and willing to meet me. I couldn't imagine leaving my son even for a moment after I am finally united with him. I posed the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-59020786439386516692009-11-04T06:43:00.003-06:002009-11-04T18:14:20.612-06:00

I find it incredibly annoying to have my children reading over my shoulder while I write, but I guess, just this once, it is okay...What I must write first might be hard for a child to hear from his parent. It is: I don't have all the answers. I don't know how it works or who exactly he is. Is he really St. Nicholas, or do they just share a name? Where does he live? How does he circle the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-36014264977628136422009-11-02T18:56:00.002-06:002009-11-02T19:57:10.814-06:00

Being stubborn can be a good thing. "Just Say no." requires a bit of a stubborn streak, doesn't it? Those terrible two's, which are the height of Stubborn, leave us in awe of our little precious who is emerging as a person all his own. In many ways, stubborn requires conviction. It means we find something important enough to take a stand. So why does being stubborn get such a bad rap? I mean, the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-72082760193794329992009-10-30T20:50:00.002-05:002009-10-30T21:29:25.684-05:00

I had a big imagination. Okay, so I think they call it delusions of grandeur. I was nineteen and heading off to my semester in Rome, Italy. My high school boyfriend had broken up with me. Like all hard times in my life, I felt close to God. I felt particularly close this time, like if I turned around quickly, I might see my Guardian Angel.It was a sign, my boyfriend breaking up with me. A sign, I

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-74980379271875820792009-10-26T07:32:00.004-05:002009-10-30T07:31:00.095-05:00

I have two prior posts that deal with Children's Literature: The Story of Childhood and Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tales (June Archive).I did not decide to become a teacher until after college. This was in part due to the one Education Course I took at the college level: Children's Literature. It was an excellent class and the teacher was a legend in her field. I did well in the class. This

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-35030868830801202272009-10-24T06:38:00.005-05:002009-10-24T07:50:22.444-05:00

I have written here before about why I home school (The Home School Why/July Archive). It may be a different reason than most suspect. In a nut shell it is because I like being around my kids. I am a typical extrovert. I love being around people, get energy from crowds, do well with managed chaos. While reading a post and comments on a friend's blog (Dandeliondayz.com)titled Sweet Surprise not so

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-61828262367364023342009-10-22T06:10:00.003-05:002009-10-22T06:51:38.183-05:00

I love Halloween. I always have. The beautiful setting of the colorful leaves of fall, the harvest time of pumpkins and apples, the crispness in the air. Being born with a theatrical nature, I adore costumes, makeup, wigs, hats and props. And of course as a child, who didn't love the candy.I always loved being Catholic on Halloween. Because it is the Eve of All Saint's, a Holy Day of Obligation,

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-2648243696752848622009-10-19T11:54:00.003-05:002009-10-19T12:33:24.138-05:00

I am sure you have seen one of the series of e-mails of Walmart photos going around, perhaps you have visited the web site. Let me state up front, I know I am going to be accused of being a curmudgeon with no sense of humor. Maybe, just maybe, I may hit on a little tinge you too felt. Or, perhaps I AM a curmudgeon with no sense of humor.The photos, all of them, ARE ridiculous. You can't help but

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-74139575698082165382009-10-15T18:42:00.007-05:002009-10-15T19:39:21.392-05:00

As a writer, I hope for one great line. One memorable, beautifully written line that states the complex so simply it speaks to the past, present and future. A string of words that expresses a truth in a way never done before and that lingers in the mind of the reader forever.Okay, so I hope for one great character too. A character that is beloved from the first page until the reader's dying day.

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-18611138550879281142009-10-12T12:37:00.010-05:002009-10-12T18:42:14.380-05:00

Being pregnant sucks. It is hard especially if like me, you add an extra 60lbs. to a 115lb frame. My feet hurt, my knees hurt, my back hurts. Delivery is a pain, pun intended. I will not even go into the details of a fourth degree tear and a bruised tail bone.Boy, those moms who adopt have it easy. You can drink like a fish, stay up as late as you choose with out paying double the next day, heck,

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-45351390068510218702009-10-12T09:01:00.003-05:002009-10-12T09:25:45.971-05:00

Though some might call me crafty (in more ways than one), no one would ever use the word artistic in a list of adjectives describing me. One of the major art mediums we use around here is cutting out shapes and gluing them to paper to create faces, dogs, trees, fairies, etc. I can handle shapes and it is the perfect project for young children.I just discovered an incredible way to make these

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-50463326298664433672009-10-10T19:55:00.002-05:002009-10-10T20:32:49.847-05:00

For those in the Kansas City Area, Immaculee Ilibagiza will speaking at Rockhurst High School on October 14 at 6:00 pm. She is the author of the book Left to Tell. A survivor of the Rwandan genocide, she speaks on peace, faith and forgiveness. For those not in the area, the book is worth reading. She survives the majority of her family by hiding in a tiny room with seven other women. They can

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-31733013431782915392009-09-25T08:25:00.003-05:002009-09-25T08:34:08.025-05:00

I have been thinking about the hypocrisy of radical environmentalists. They all seem to be ardent disciples of Evolution of a Species. Yet, they believe in the protection of endangered species. This doesn't seem to make any sense.If man is just an evolved ape, why are we required to protect the less evolved. Beavers do not create laws to protect the fish, forest animals or natural environments

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-62668758345604376372009-09-24T16:51:00.002-05:002009-09-24T17:42:27.847-05:00

So my boys, ages eight and nine, come home last night terrified after hearing a ghostly tale from the neighborhood pow wow. It was too dark for them to retell it to me, so I sent them to bed with the light on and the advice of filling their minds with good things like sliding down a rainbow into a pool of Skittles.They were up early and still scared out of their wits. I asked them to tell me

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-48318032392644794312009-09-21T17:44:00.001-05:002009-09-21T17:46:36.019-05:00

DEDICATIONI have been accused of changing stories in the retelling. The quotes from a journal and letters are the actual words of my father, the rest is my remembering. These memories are mine. These memories are my treasure.For Bridget, Michael, Billy and MomThese memories Are my treasureTheir worth isYet untoldMy father’s Pearls of wisdomMy mother’s Heart of goldI valueThis my treasure As a

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-48472426124070951552009-09-21T17:42:00.003-05:002009-09-21T17:44:11.662-05:00

My Mother on Self PerceptionMy mother is a grandmother of nine, I myself am a mother of four. We sit on my living room couch amongst the clutter of toys and books. We talk of nothing in particular. I glance down at her ankles and see an odd mix of light and dark tones in stripes across her feet and legs,“What is that?” I ask.“What?” Her glance follows my own.“Did you accidentally use a self

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-8352070070102882462009-09-21T17:36:00.003-05:002009-09-21T17:40:06.601-05:00

My Mind’s EyeI have my father’s journal. It has a hard cover, marbled the colors of new and old blood. In Gold letters across the top it says Record. I read of his daily activities, his worries, his thoughts. And then I come to January 20, 1987. I understand just how extraordinary a man he was. He hated pain. He feared suffering. “God gives suffering to his best friends,” muses Mr. Blue.

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-87239224215874283672009-09-21T17:33:00.002-05:002009-09-21T17:36:11.824-05:00

My Father on WomenHe is back at his desk. He spends more time leaning back and less time writing. He is too exhausted to do anything for long. My soon to be husband has written to ask for my hand. He must respond. The entire letter is very short. But it is beautiful. It includes:Women, I have learned, march to a beat of a different drum. I have ceased to try to fully understand them. But

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-5304248963875236062009-09-19T19:04:00.002-05:002009-09-19T19:07:15.140-05:00

My Father on the Will of GodWhere did the cancer come from? Stress and genetics surely were foot soldiers in the attack. But who is the general? What is his strategy for victory? If we knew, my mother and I, we could plan our defenses. I will later find an entry in my father’s journal that tells me he knew all along:January 20, 1987…I have attended daily mass for some time. At one point I

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-75328529739244806692009-09-19T19:03:00.001-05:002009-09-19T19:04:27.510-05:00

My Father on HeavenMy father relaxes in his chair with his feet on his footstool. The leather chair and ottoman is where he will always be in my mind. It is his throne and his refuge. The rubber bands from his daily paper stuffed into the side between the frame and the seat cushion. They sit in the same place they have always sat, save Christmastime when the room is arranged to accommodate the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-23338455201732731912009-09-11T19:40:00.001-05:002009-09-11T19:42:11.924-05:00

My mother on MarriageI am in love. I have found the man I will marry. I look at my Mom and Dad’s wedding pictures. I have carried the album from its place under the coffee table to the family room. I sit on the plaid couch not really watching the T.V. As I look at the pictures from Hawaii, pictures that were staged after the fact since the photographer thought it disrespectful to take

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-62148972695157033162009-09-10T07:28:00.002-05:002009-09-10T07:31:32.725-05:00

My Mother on Self fulfillmentI am glad to be living at home. Home is wherever my mother is and right now we are in my car. I have my own car now. I could get an apartment with friends too, but why? My mom is my best friend. I am still searching. I am still not happy. What should I do, I ask? What can I do to have meaning? She loosens her vice grip on the dash, turns her head to look at me

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-69237732970393711662009-09-09T15:44:00.002-05:002009-09-09T15:49:18.663-05:00

My Mother on HonestyMy mother perches on the edge of her bed talking on the phone. The addition of a second phone in the house has been recent. She can see herself in the mirror over her dresser. On the dresser are the pictures of her mother and father, and the jewelry box which is never closed. I am again on the other end of the line from college. She listens to what is going on and then

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-75987787100698102322009-09-08T08:10:00.002-05:002009-09-08T08:14:31.094-05:00

He sits at his gorgeous desk. It is a deep brown with clawed feet on each of the legs. It sits at an angle in the middle of the room facing the door. The huge leather chair rocks backward as he thinks and forward as he writes. How to answer me, what to say? During my turbulent years of college, I was in a constant state of searching. Who was I? What was I supposed to be doing with my life?

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-50531556848461885432009-09-05T11:39:00.003-05:002009-09-05T11:46:04.327-05:00

My Father I am young, seven or eight. I ride on the bus down town. My dad has begun a tradition. We each get to meet him for lunch alone once during our Summer Vacation. It is a tradition, that unfortunately, will not last long. I am wearing a dress, tights and fancy shoes. I do not yet have a hatred of the City Bus. That will come after I miss my stop on a visit to my Grandma. I am forced to

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-33229838459592912232009-09-05T10:46:00.003-05:002009-09-05T11:38:08.526-05:00

For those who knew my parents, how they were different was far more obvious than what they had in common. My father was a tall man, around six feet tall. He had strong, sharp facial features especially his nose. His eyes were dull from poor eyesight and rarely seen without his glasses. His hair was blonde. He was serious and an imposing presence. His humor was dry and when he laughed it was never

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-25886874320563736272009-09-02T16:10:00.006-05:002009-09-02T16:41:27.022-05:00

I am SICK to death of experts. The financial experts have proven to not know so much, haven't they? The nutrition experts tell us one day we should not drink then the next day we are to drink a glass of wine daily. Butter is out then it is in; sugar is bad and then it is good. Coffee is awful and green tea is the thing until it is out and coffee cures cancer. I am waiting for the day that tobacco

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-33017889192770556692009-08-29T07:50:00.002-05:002009-08-29T08:02:39.338-05:00

I tried to get published. Okay, so it was just a letter to the editor at The Atlantic Monthly, but I just got the edition with responses to the article I commented on and no go. I am not being at all bias when I say that my letter was SO much better than the few they did print. :)But I have a blog, so I can post it here. I am sure I have more readership than the magazine anyway... in some

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-38657180807128866342009-08-26T21:39:00.003-05:002009-08-26T23:05:10.952-05:00

When my mother was married at thirty-two years of age, my paternal grandmother was fifty-two and my maternal grandma was seventy-two. Grandma Foley, Mom's mom, was always sweet. She was Irish, told stories, and spoke in a soft voice. She was precious. Grandma Barvick was Polish, energetic, organized my underwear drawer and spoke with a tone of authority. She was a good woman. They were as

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-76123889654996257102009-08-10T20:32:00.001-05:002009-08-10T20:39:05.075-05:00

I love the Gospel of John. I love the poetry. It begins: In the beginning was the Word and the Word was made flesh. The idea of Jesus as God’s words is so beautiful it makes me want to weep. I love words. Words are so distinctly human. Angels do not need words, animals can not use them. Conversation is at the heart of relationship for humans. Communication, be it in personal relationships

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-69958143366780117582009-07-28T20:19:00.004-05:002009-07-29T08:00:13.994-05:00

Growing up, my parents had one car for most of my life. My Dad rode the bus to work or walked if my mother needed the car. She was homebound on days he took the car. This was at the same time most high school students had their own cars. My father was a lawyer. He taught law school for a few years, worked for the State and then went into private practice. He and my mom were married with three

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-12850630858787343412009-07-28T09:59:00.003-05:002009-07-28T10:53:51.408-05:00

The Comprehensive Health Care Bill is scary for a number of reasons. Currently, I am most afraid of the end of life issues it contains. Those of us who are young and in the midst of raising our own children spend little time thinking about end of life issues. The current bill contains language that will set up a system that requires the elderly to receive counseling every five years about end of

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-5089838564841898302009-07-22T09:00:00.002-05:002009-07-22T09:15:57.429-05:00

I save too much stuff. I feel very sorry for my children and grandchildren who have to clean up this mess when I die. I found in one of my boxes, a speech I had co-written and given in the last days of my semester abroud. It is published here for the benefit of those who were there with me. Fall 1989 Romers Farewell Speech:As we begin to think back on our semester and see it coming to an end,

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-64103408879229889202009-07-22T08:02:00.002-05:002009-07-22T08:06:36.244-05:00

I sat in the college Eucharistic chapel. It was ugly, really. Jesus on the cross that hung on the wall didn’t have a face. The tabernacle looked like the house built for Eeyeore by Pooh and Piglet out of sticks. But I loved it here. It reminded me a lot of the ugly church that had been my home parish growing up. It was quiet and peaceful, and I was usually alone. I found it easier to talk

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-18937379945121546562009-07-18T10:00:00.002-05:002009-07-18T10:10:27.352-05:00

I heard of The Shack from my mother. All her friends were raving about it and insisted she read it. All she knew was that it was a book about God, and God the Father was portrayed as a woman; that and the fact that many of these same friends had raved about the Divinci Code. She had no desire to read it and asked if I would read it first to tell her if she should waste her time.Let me begin by

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-5813302809484457012009-07-17T12:21:00.002-05:002009-07-17T12:31:35.821-05:00

The word prophet always brings to my mind the image of Moses on the mountain covered by dark clouds, the light from idol fires burning below as he emerges from the mist with his tablets in hand. The scene is dramatic one, no question about it. The biblical prophets always came to show the Israelites God’s will and plan, their messages divinely inspired words to lead the Hebrews back to God and

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-49248083552527967282009-07-10T09:25:00.003-05:002009-07-10T10:58:14.267-05:00

I am Catholic, with a capital C. I taught Catholic Theology at the high school and middle school levels when I was being paid to work. I remember explaining my job to my first group of students: “Faith consists of two main components: Your personal relationship with God and the truths of the Catholic Church passed down through the ages. I can not teach you the first component, nor will I try. I

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-60584735420409435142009-07-09T09:38:00.006-05:002009-07-09T09:50:55.156-05:00

I cried when someone told a Polish Joke in third grade. It was not because they were making fun of me. Whoever it was wasn’t making fun of anyone in our class, just telling a joke. I cried because my dad loved books and he loved being Polish.According to my mom, he did not love being Polish until after his grandma died. She had come off the boats and never even spoke English. After she died,

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-21762224403668403502009-07-05T14:00:00.004-05:002009-07-05T14:22:24.563-05:00

I had a dream about the movie incident. I woke with my heart pounding and sweaty palms as if I'd actually been in a confrontation.I keep hoping the theater was dark enough that Marlene didn't see me sink down in my seat with my eyes just peeking out over my popcorn. I keep imaging it was crowded enough that she didn't suspect I was pretending. I hung around looking for something in the seat after

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-73975456333556274222009-07-03T19:57:00.005-05:002009-07-05T09:26:01.223-05:00

I went to the movies with an old friend. We hadn't been out in quite awhile and talked like school girls, eating our popcorn and candy. The lights dimmed and we settled in to enjoy a few hours of willing suspension of disbelief.The first preview was for an action film I'd probably never see, the second was obviously designed for the tween crowd, and the third promised to be an hilarious chick

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-6331979315056782982009-07-02T15:56:00.006-05:002009-07-02T19:06:37.154-05:00

Contrary to public perceptions, I do not home school my children for lack of another alternative. Within blocks of my house are fine public, private and Catholic schools. I have looked objectively at these schools and can find no fault with their test scores, teachers, safety, structures, curricula or student populations. They have small classroom sizes, a plethora of extracurricular activities,

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-10336208855180121882009-07-01T18:14:00.000-05:002009-07-01T18:23:09.844-05:00

Have you ever decided to do something for another, your intention being simply to make them smile? You find such pleasure in the time, treasure or talent you put forth to bring your idea to fruition: plan a party, write a poem, find the perfect gift.You picture the reaction with giddy anticipation; childlike belief that it will be received with as much joy as it is being given. You horde it

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-59991900583895425392009-06-30T08:07:00.000-05:002009-06-30T08:20:12.771-05:00

When I was pregnant with my first child, I couldn’t imagine what I would do if I happened to have a boy. I know little girls. I was one of course. I know their games and toys, clothes and hair, songs and stories. I had never really grown out of my love of girlish things. My mother gave me an Anne of Green Gables Madame Alexander doll for Christmas the year my child was born. That was exactly five

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-36493320598977959322009-06-29T08:57:00.001-05:002009-07-03T07:37:46.613-05:00

I will know I have done something right, if when asked about their childhood, my kids respond with memories of Tasha Tudor’s illustrations, quotes from Children’s Shakespeare and belly busting laughter at the antics of Pooh. If they recall neighborhood battles of Troy, voyages on ships made from beds to Treasured Islands, hours spent cramped tightly into the bathroom closet waiting for a new

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-32211744820935880692009-06-28T18:21:00.000-05:002009-06-28T20:41:48.493-05:00

You steal a sockI see you mockYou burning bellied devil's spawnI swear I'll put you on the lawnYour cave puts out too many bonesTo fold and sort while all aloneYou fill my life with greyish fluffYou don't know how to say, "Enough!"No lines and pinsNo prayers for windsPrince charming shiny, square and whiteI need that blouse to wear tonightThe fragrance which floats up from youSparks memories like

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-51039048099518256142009-06-28T17:10:00.000-05:002009-06-28T17:53:11.072-05:00

I return home from getting my nails done for our big night out. I hear my husband saying, "What did you do?" He is trying so hard to sound stern. Then he just starts laughing with, "OH, wow!" I come up the stairs and see a pile of hair to my right and another to my left. My three year old has decided to give herself a pixie cut like her sister's. She has shaved one side of her bangs, cut over her

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-41860076968681894982009-06-28T08:12:00.001-05:002009-07-03T08:41:28.078-05:00

We all know how it goes: A man hires laborers to work in his fields. Some all day, some for just an hour. At the setting of the sun, he pays them equally.Whenever the sermon is preached, we are told we would react as did those who had worked the full day, and we know in our heart it is true. God’s ways are not our own, we are told. We are left with a sense of contempt for our nature, and the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-1989824758118629502009-06-28T08:09:00.000-05:002009-06-28T08:10:35.525-05:00

"It is my body. The fact of the matter is I have earned the right to make this choice."She was dressed in a tailored black suit with crisp white shirt. A scarf of delicate butterlies tied smartly at her throat. Her slender legs were elongated by her expensive black heels. She stood before the committee with a confidence beyond her years."Senators, Dr. Smith has presented much evidencde to the

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-496697331248026951.post-61589879647380256552009-06-27T13:57:00.000-05:002009-06-27T13:58:26.200-05:00

Okay, I can say it, and if I must, I will say it loudly, "I AM A BLOGGER." That being said, I must now do a bit of soul searching to find out exactly what that may entail. Why do I choose to write anything for inspection by the known universe? That may take a bit of space to explain.A writer for as long as I can remember, I learned very early on from my mother: "NEVER write down anything you

sheila Gramlinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00608276839302362682noreply@blogger.com1