tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13178300115995115952012-02-16T16:22:24.900-08:00Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.comBlogger391100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-11175247901878198372008-02-18T21:07:00.001-08:002008-02-18T21:13:18.222-08:00

I haven't said a real goodbye for quite a while now. Maybe I have been avoiding them. Maybe God has granted me respite from goodbye for a time. I said goodbye about four years ago to some very dear friends. They were in town visiting me and our mutual friends this weekend. Every so often we email too. When we get together it seems perfectly natural.It is a lesson to me, that this is not

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-11539345727004679762008-02-18T21:07:00.000-08:002008-02-18T21:08:50.648-08:00

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-34438008733162886372008-02-11T08:45:00.000-08:002008-02-11T09:14:57.171-08:00

I got a phone call from a friend last night that buoyed up my writerly hopes. He said such kind things, including (without being prompted) that my story reminded him of my favorite author, and that I need to keep writing. Everyone could use a phone call like that, I say. And everyone could use a friend like him.I think I may be growing up. (As this is just thoughts on things, this paragraph

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-41199739950506141992008-02-09T09:17:00.000-08:002008-02-09T09:53:25.968-08:00

CHAPTER BREAKMario studied business at the community college in Bend, Oregon. In the early 1980’s, as now, it was a highly respected school. And as in anything Mario did, he excelled. He chose to study business and accounting, with the plan in mind that he would be his own boss someday. To live, not in a barrio someone kept for workers, but in a real home.His idea of real home was a confusion of

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-73804875388125561872008-02-08T09:31:00.000-08:002008-02-08T11:49:57.686-08:00

My littlest girl is fighting off bronchial pneumonia right now. I want to write it on the side of great buildings, like a Joey Harrington billboard. So the whole world will pray for her and she will be better already. And yet right now she is *better* she is just not well yet. And last night she was much worse. She was lingering in the 103F range with that peculiar hacking cough accompanied by

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-78207703323808094612008-02-05T09:08:00.000-08:002008-02-05T09:23:59.925-08:00

Ruth, of the blog in bloglist, tagged me. I did my best, since no book was on or very near the desk, to pick the closest book. I walked to the bookshelf, hand outstretched, taking the fewest steps possible and the first book that my had, at waist height, touched was what I am going with. The floor is strewn with other books, but they have a lot of picutes and generally fewer than 50 pages.

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-2716878053748736892008-02-05T08:23:00.000-08:002008-02-05T09:00:56.994-08:00

Their was a chill in the air last night, in the house. And outside it was a cold, cold freeze. But we were snuggled together, flannel sheets and many wool blankets. Sometime around too early in the night Lucy woke up and joined us to snuggle down and she kept me even warmer.Something woke me in the night. Probably her wriggling in the blankets. And as I lay in drowsing in bed I listened to

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-44874161552669350882008-02-01T20:38:00.000-08:002008-02-01T20:53:09.738-08:00

I would give my kids anything to make their ride on this planet more fulfilling. One thing I'm sure to give them is a sense of proportion-of how we in our corner of the planet are obligated to the rest of it because of our vast riches. I say I'm sure to give this to them because I am so freakishly cheap--they are not likely to develop a sense of entitlement in my house, where the most oft heard

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-50913399077021684012008-02-01T09:46:00.000-08:002008-02-01T10:07:55.238-08:00

A flying handle bar mustached fly gadfly barfly with more bars.(Translation: a well dressed, bemustached, shallow and flighty man who parties a lot, carries an ATT phone and happens to be traveling by air.)And what did you and your spouse talk about last night?

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-13356146743421764152008-01-30T12:15:00.000-08:002008-01-30T13:07:52.209-08:00

CHAPTER BREAKAt home, Shannon pulled out her steno pad. It was in pretty sorry shape, but it was almost full, She had a recycle bin full of steno pads waiting to be put to the curb. It was her master list, the mother of to-do’s. Probably, back in Seattle, or Los Angeles, she would have had a Blackberry. But this old notebook method was stillFor a while she had considered the collected master

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-71880262936307523192008-01-26T13:07:00.000-08:002008-01-26T13:23:00.718-08:00

The first years that the Gomez family lived in Clovis, they worked so very hard. Every morning they were up with the sun , working. They left before Mario went to school, trusting him to be safe walking in a group with the neighbor children. Everyday that she left for work her heart broke. She would weep walking to the kitchen. She could cook very well. And she could clean. And she would always

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-65597715331768737662008-01-25T09:16:00.001-08:002008-01-25T09:54:41.411-08:00

Bright, crisp cool days when even the air in my house feels sharp and days that are wet and dreary when the sky is pewter and the world is made of mush make me fluff my nest. I change the beds and sweep out from under the rugs.I scrub behind the toaster oven. I want to make my home tidy, warm and safe. I want something savory bubbling on the stove and something sweet toasting in the

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-51075224648422739122008-01-24T19:15:00.000-08:002008-01-24T19:34:29.569-08:00

Last night we took a little post-Christmas-craziness drive out toward Damascus to wind down and search for some cool, "rural" decorated homes. It was a wonderful little adventure complete with the boys playing with their new (noisy) toys in the back seat and Tony and I drooling over all the for sale signs we saw. We sipped on coffee and tootled around until we came to a T in the road. After

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-3531656257805359912008-01-23T09:15:00.000-08:002008-01-23T09:31:15.173-08:00

I wonder what joys my babies have when they are sleeping. What great heights of accomplishment they experience, what adventures face them. How they sort out the information that bombards them day by day.I wonder what kind of terror follows them through the night. I worry that they are scared of things I can't make better. Alone, crying in their rooms in that place between sleep and awake where

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-17697646658105428762008-01-22T09:02:00.001-08:002008-01-22T09:21:25.105-08:00

I had a happy surprise this morning. A reminder that God is bigger and his plans greater than the things we can imagine or predict. My Bible school friends and I have been doing an email reunion. The small children we have produced would fill up the room I am sitting in and then some. Those with advanced degrees are impressing the pants off of me. Okay, my pants are still on, but I am

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-35226276614974194892008-01-21T11:59:00.000-08:002008-01-21T12:20:49.809-08:00

I had one of those days yesterday. I feel like I was expecting the worst all day. But I was expecting the best too, you know? I was running nonstop, full speed ahead all from the moment I woke up. There was dinner in the crock pot by 8:30 am. I taught a great Sunday School lesson that I made up all by myself (okay, I had a little help from the Bible.) My friend Teresa stepped in to be my

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-22830783890363826652008-01-18T09:17:00.000-08:002008-01-18T09:25:18.030-08:00

Routine is a powerful force that remains far from my reach. It may be underdiagnosed attention deficit disorder or it may be laziness. Of course I would prefer to believe my chemicals were disordered. Though laziness remains a distinct possibility. Me and Winston Churchill make a strong case for not standing when one can sit, not sitting when one can recline, and for heavens sake, if you are

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-42947819761505816292008-01-07T11:01:00.000-08:002008-01-07T11:16:40.296-08:00

Here's a generous serving of The Restaurante to tide you over until I am back from my vacation and Blogging again. To Mario the restaurant business was life and life was feeding people. In Mexico he spent hours in the kitchen while his nanny and the cook gossiped together. He learned how to roast peppers and how to mix tortillas by touch. Afterwards, in America, in Clovis, he worked in the

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-48592525129036914102008-01-05T16:42:00.000-08:002008-01-05T17:00:27.397-08:00

I've been trying to do some blog-networking. It's fun but time consuming. I found/met? Mar-see-ah who writes a terrific 55 word story. I also found a girl who goes by Lady from Longaborn (I probably spelled that wrong, as I didn't write it down first and don't recognize the reference.) The Lady is a real fundynutter. She is brilliant and clever; how nice for her to be both! She also says she

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-29217052915641426122007-12-31T18:45:00.000-08:002007-12-31T19:01:52.076-08:00

And then her time in the Coast Guard started. The child in Shannon throve on the requirements and the regulations and the guidelines. By some fluke of the system she spent almost the whole four years stationed in the Seattle area working on the Icebreakers. She loved the work. Loved the isolated beauty of the icebergs they were sent to cleave. But, barring one dramatic rescue in her first

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-79454416735973743342007-12-31T08:27:00.000-08:002007-12-31T08:50:12.766-08:00

So many ideas, so little money for grad school!I recently read Arabian Nights. It was a pretty standard translation. It was fairly old and was taken from the French translation. According to the introduction (and wikkipedia) the French translation was the first that put these folk tales into a Western language.I loved it.The mysteries were mesmerizing. The stories seemed infinitely more

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-63864254782434958802007-12-29T08:57:00.000-08:002007-12-29T09:24:41.139-08:00

“Do you like school?” Shannon asked her young stepsisters. One said yes, the other said no. Shannon couldn’t remember which of the small blonde almost teenagers was which and so dropped the question. Similarly, no one taught Jenny how to ask on open ended question. “Was boot camp hard?” she asked Shannon. “Oh yes!’ Shannon said. Longing to be enthusiastic, entertaining. Family.

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-82722121240190628252007-12-23T17:14:00.000-08:002007-12-23T17:24:30.880-08:00

Why WriMo if no one will ever ReaMo?Here is the first installment of The Restaurante, a National Novel Writing Month novel by Traci Hilton. It's the first public airing, so to speak. Content unedited though typos and general errors have been given a little attention. Enjoy. Mario and Shannon had been friends a long time now. Most everyone they knew figured they were already lovers. But that

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-78638465100283451532007-12-23T16:52:00.000-08:002007-12-23T17:13:49.567-08:00

I was reading Anne's House of Dreams last night and feeling sentimental. I was sad that Captain Jim died and I was thinking fondly of adolescence and reading the Anne books for the first time.My train of thought chugged onward to that precarious stage of late teens. The moments left to prove that you were Something Special were ticking away. Come an evening in May, with everyone in matching red

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-25307128136141184632007-12-20T14:20:00.000-08:002007-12-22T08:49:46.681-08:00

I do not believe that God gives wealth, health, happiness or prosperity to people because they follow him. I believe that all good things come from the Father of Lights. And I believe that sometimes those good things will be wealth, health, happiness or prosperity. But not always. And they are not the exclusive property of people who praise God. Our Pastor's email update spoke a little bit

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-91364054083506890172007-12-17T07:57:00.000-08:002007-12-17T08:27:44.612-08:00

I get all sorts of Me time all for myself. I get to sleep in (a natural consequence from my girls fitful sleep.) I get to read as much fiction as I want. I get to write as much fiction as I want. Or non fiction. Or blog. I get to spend hours online (it would be less time online but I suffer from dial up internet.) My husband is supportive of anything I attempt and believes that I can do

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-23253822023005574312007-12-13T08:48:00.000-08:002007-12-13T09:05:24.674-08:00

Today at Life Group we are discussing Chapter 21. Oh yes. We finally made it all the way here. Everyone is nervous and edgy, even the group leader. One couple would have been thrilled to elucidate us on the topic but they have a new baby and are sleep deprived. They are the only ones who were looking forward to it and they may not make it.Early on I said I would just stay home for Chapter 21.

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-55807199986490914832007-12-07T09:29:00.001-08:002007-12-07T10:55:45.020-08:00

For most of the last few years (how is that for precise?) Daniel, who is both my husband and the one who came up with the name fundynutter, has been teaching at the community college. He only teaches during the fall. If, as a teacher, you were to pick one quarter to teach, the fall is the obvious choice. You set the tone for the year. You don't have to be aware of what the last teacher taught.

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-61970182931986812802007-12-05T13:59:00.000-08:002007-12-05T14:21:47.208-08:00

And now must fulfill my obligation by sharing 7 unusual facts about myself.1. I've slept in more churches that I could count on my fingers. Churches in two states and four countries. I am a church sleep-over fool.2. I have a love hate relationship with O. Henry. I love him because of his inventive use of language and his pursuing literature outside of the academic world. I hate him for his

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-76605557648531608212007-12-04T13:48:00.001-08:002007-12-05T10:00:12.847-08:00

I'm back on the blogspot after a fall of some adventures. The most fun and adventurous would have to be Nanowrimo. Oh yes. The Nano. I'm a wrimo baby. I am just itching for Nanoedmo and Script Frenzy. Someday when I remember my password I will go get my winner widget and post it on here.I had the most fun in years, I think, trying to write a novel in a month. I've always known that I work

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-67750735633015594542007-09-03T16:05:00.000-07:002007-09-03T16:11:49.419-07:00

Where have I been? What have I been doing? Making great strides in my research? Discovering new facets to the historical world as we know it? Making friends and influencing people?Goodness no! I’ve mostly been eating a lot of coco-dyno-bites (you know, the ones in the bag that taste just like the cartoon theme ones but come at a more pleasant price per ounce), playing a lot of mine sweeper and

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-60225736493648491392007-08-19T16:53:00.000-07:002007-08-19T16:56:36.171-07:00

I did a little exploring on Wikipedia. I wouldn’t want to waste my time on something that had been well researched by an authoritative body after all. What I discovered made me sad. There is little, if any at all, room for my favorite fringe theory. Of course, the history of China would be very well studied and understood. And very old. Despite this, I dearly want to tie the great Chinese

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-23135144580224766612007-08-18T09:23:00.000-07:002007-08-18T09:40:33.055-07:00

I like to garden. I like to garden with my kids. I like to help people, especially when that help is the oh so American teaching-folks-to-fish-with-their-own-bootstraps kind of help.I really like these Seed Ballz. I saw them on TV this morning and thought it was worth blogging about. The product is a charming packet full of smalls balls of dirt with seeds in them. You can prepare your soil

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-9290025645156064182007-08-11T15:08:00.000-07:002007-08-11T15:41:11.773-07:00

I am transitioning to my very own domain name, thanks to my darling brother. However, I work on ancient equipment with a dial up connection and aging software. So I haven't figured out how to get a theme to look right on my computer, though it looks fabulous on his.That insight into my outside life complete, let me share with you my current thoughts on the injustice of living in a melting pot

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-10318829139653616442007-08-08T10:50:00.000-07:002007-08-08T11:04:45.865-07:00

Ah'm ar-fully proud of this here document Ah cree-ated. I'm interum person-who-gets-yelled-at-all-the-time about preschool stuff at church (note: its the parents who do the yelling.) The official person-who-gets-yelled-at-all-the-time is on "maternity leave." Why would a person want "leave" from such a great job as that?I made these instructions for my Sunday School teachers and nursery

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-19645872141288667322007-08-02T08:46:00.000-07:002007-08-04T07:50:05.875-07:00

Get out your tin foil hats, because you don’t want the government to use their satellites to read your brain while you read this. It could get you in big trouble—oh yes—big trouble. In fact, I had better switch to a stealthy spy font. But you know what, even with the spy font, I am willing to type this. I am willing to risk myself to spread knowledge.The government exists for a limited time

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-8148520060262886862007-07-31T22:24:00.000-07:002007-07-31T22:35:20.060-07:00

Contentious is not a very pretty word. And it is not a very flattering descriptive when used by the boy you are madly mad for and hope to marry some day. And for some of us, who are read up on our Proverbs, it brings to mind a drippy faucet and husbands sleeping out on the roof of the house to get away from you.And yet, no one seems to disagree that I am kind of, sort of, well… contentious.

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-35097770810910824062007-07-30T15:53:00.000-07:002007-07-30T15:58:33.799-07:00

Who needs a dictionary when you can define yourself by another’s insults! It was ten years ago and I stood up in class (dramatic? No, never.) And I said: “You are forgetting about the people in the world who think pornography is wrong because it is the graphic depiction of sex.” Blank stares. “Heh?” looks.And then “Who believes that?” The voice was incredulous. The person was another student

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1317830011599511595.post-75037497895974872582007-07-26T13:29:00.000-07:002007-07-26T13:48:25.643-07:00

I would like to know when developing the ability to say "no" became a Christian Virtue. I am pretty sure I remember a selfless Christ who told us to let people hit us on both sides of the face. And when our coats are stolen we are supposed to give that mean guy our shirts too. And then, while we were yet sinners, He died for us.But nobody wants to sit in the nursery with my very cute baby?

Tracihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02714120918967217450noreply@blogger.com5