Consider the ant...

Years ago I wrote a little piece on my "Ant thoughts". And, for your reading pleasure, here are those very thoughts:

Two things:

#1. My dad always told me to look at the ant. See how hard he works? He works all day and never complains. He lifts twice his body weight and doesn't say a word about an achey back. He works with his co-workers and doesn't get in fights and squabbles.

All this pert advice supposedly comes from scripture, and was supposedly supposed to make me clean my room without grumbling and without fighting with my sister.

#2. My cabinets are overrun with tiny ants, scrambling for homemade bread-crust crumbs and the big red splat of strawberry jam. I noticed their ever-moving line as I was trying to find a half dirty glass to get myself a glass of water.

These two things got me wondering, thinking, and trying to make excuses for why I am not like an ant.

And here is what I came up with. Really, how do we know that ants are not complaining? They are tiny. If they made complaining noises we
a.) might not hear them, and
b.) they would be in a foreign ant language that is not understood by the common housewife or even an educated scientist. I doubt even a linguist could tell us if the ant was making sounds of pleasure or grumbling about the wicked queen who turned him into a slave.

How do we know there is not a tiny morgue lined with tiny ant parts from ants who have been slaughtered by other over-worked ants who have gone postal?

Oh, and another thing...we don't see what is going on under those any hills. Maybe there are rooms full of drunken ants watching all the other ant men carrying in jagged leaves and all of my homemade bread crumbs. Perhaps there are hundreds, maybe THOUSANDS of these lazy ants who sit on their third body part all day -dreaming of watching soap operas and eating bon bons...
AND, on top of THAT, ants are indistinguishable. They could be carrying one load back and taking in easy in a leaf hammock for the rest of the day for all we know. They COULD have a 2 hr work day and a 2 day work year, spending the rest of the time dreaming of soap operas and bon bons.

And one last thought. Ants are annoying.

They somehow worked their way into folkloric heroic proportions. They serve very little purpose (Leaves are capable of decomposing on their own), except to make me feel guilty. After all, they are such hard workers AND they wouldn't be in my house if I was more fastidious about cleaning up all the homemade bread crumbs off my counters.
They are simply a perky, little, crawling conscience.

So, I have considered the ant. And I have decided that I am not one. They have a thorax, an antennae, six legs, and seemingly super-human strength. Until God blesses me with six legs to help me do all my work, I am going to continue on as I have. Reading the online newspaper, doing dishes when we run out of clean ones, doing laundry when Mt. dirty clothes explodes, and having fun chasing my kids around the house whenever I feel like it. Oh, and I will spend a good amount of time dreaming of soap operas and bon bons...

(My ant study was not a scientific one. I manipulated my observations to create the theory I needed to salve my guilt)

(also, the constant reference to homemade bread was also an attempt to salve my guilt.)

That said, this video is FASCINATING! Watch and enjoy (and clean up your bread crumbs)

I am still alive.

But I don't have anything to say. I know you all just died of shock, and since I no longer have an audience, it doesn't matter that I have nothing to say.

We educate

Weston is learning the value of money. For a school project we set u a play store (with real food) and Weston received 35.00 to shop for the family.
For lunch he bought pancake mix and all the ingredients that went with it.
Then he bought peppermints for desert.
Dinner was noodles and sauce. No meat. He ran out of money after spending it on a gigantic number of salad ingredients and a box of chocolate granola bars.
"We need meat Weston. Maybe you could put the granola bars back and then you will have enough for meat."
Weston looked at me quizzically.
"Is it my money to spend however I want?"
"Yes, but your daddy does not like spaghetti with no meat."
"And I don't like peas." he responded.
I thought to ask him what his dislike for peas had to do with the cost of meat or granola bars, but then I realized how many time daddy had made him eat peas.
He made his purchases, all very thoughtfully, including his steadfast decision to forego the meat.



when daddy came home, he said

"Where's the meat?"
"You made Weston eat too many peas," I responded.


And, I assumed incorrectly that this little activity taught him a good lesson about the value of money. What it really taught him is, that if you run out of money, you can just cut some out of paper.
And a previous activity, which had explained that you need to earn money, by getting a job, to get the things you want and need?
He took that lesson and learned that if you don't want to do a job, you can always pay someone else to do it.
He tried to pay his father SIX dollars to unload the dishwasher for him.

And of course, if he doesn't have six dollars, he can always make some more. But, not by working.

A cozy winter corner

It's freezing cold in our neck of the woods. Stay warm blogger friends.

And that's a match:

Remember THIS?
http://toasty-toes.blogspot.com/2008/01/hospitality-is-not-gift-i-have.html
Look down at the last paragraph. All the way at the end. The rest of the mumbo jumbo is inconsequential.

Now.

Remember THIS?
















Those are wedding invitations.

And she won't let me be a bridesmaid. She said I could give the toast. Which would make me a toaster. And I am allergic to bread. Oh, yes. That WAS the lamest joke in existence. BUT... if you want a laugh...