Our fridge, purchased at a used applicance place for $200 four years ago, quit working yesterday. My father came to the rescue, purchasing us a new, bottom of the line 20.9 cubic-feet fridge made by Whirlpool. The manufacturer estimates it will last two to ten years. It happens to be the exact same model we bought used, which never made it to ten years for us, or for the original owners--not even combined. I think I'd better start praying over this fridge.
I'm discouraged about my dad having to help us out. Consequently, I don't have anything good to say today. But I found the post pasted below on The Seekers blog. I thought it might perk you up nicely today. It's about hope. Stay with it--it's a good story no matter where you're at in your life.
_______________________________________________
Author - Julie Lessman
“Are you okay?” Someone shook me hard. I lay there, unable to speak, eyes welded closed.
“Are you okay” the voice came again, louder this time, more insistent. No answer. I felt the press of fingers to my pulse followed by a quick sweep of my mouth, clearing all obstructions. With a pinch of my nose, someone began to breathe life into me while a gentle hand compressed against my chest, finger on my heart …
Okay, just for the record—I did not choke on a piece of chicken at an American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Conference or ever have to be resuscitated in any way. Uh … that is … at least not physically. But emotionally and spiritually? Yep, I was a goner. Cried enough tears that I thought the housekeeping staff would think I was heisting their Kleenex. But something amazing happened to me at the very first ACFW conference I ever attended—I received CPR in a very unlikely manner, and I gotta tell ya, folks—it saved my life. So I thought since we are less than a week out from this year’s ACFW conference in Denver, it might behoove me to share about this life-saving experience I received when the Holy Spirit administered a heavy dose of truly miraculous CPR—Cry, Pray, Repent.
Oh, how I wish, wish WISH someone had told me what I’m about to tell you before I went to my very first writers conference in Houston, Texas in 2003. It was the American Christian Fiction Writers Conference, only back then, it was ACRW, American Christian Romance Writers. I went by myself without knowing a soul, which is a hard thing to do, as so many of you are aware. Up until that point, I had done everything I could to put me on the path to publication—took fiction-writing courses at the community college, attended small writing seminars and local RWA chapter meetings, queried publishers until I was blue in the face, and entered contests until I was in hock over binder clips.
I knew in my gut that the time had come for me to venture far from home and interface with other writers of my ilk. I mean how difficult could this be? Although by nature I am a recluse of sorts, I have the misfortune of having an outgoing personality, so the word “shy” just isn’t part of my vocabulary. So I smiled and mixed and mingled until my teeth ached and made a lot of acquaintances, but no real “friend” that I felt I could connect with. Everything felt surface to me, and it seemed like everybody I spoke to was either published, had an agent, a contract in the works or fulls being considered.
That night I cried on the phone to my husband, and I’m talking major sobbing! I told him I felt lonely and jealous and like publication would never happen for me. He comforted me and prayed with me and told me everything would all right.
But it wasn’t. The next day I would attend a seminar, then go up to my room and cry, clean my face and go back down to smile some more. That went on all day as the loneliness and jealousy seemed to grow, and that night my poor husband got another earful of long-distance weeping. God love him, he prayed for me and encouraged me and told me to put my hope in God. Yeah, right, I thought to myself at the time, and how is that going to change these waterworks? That night I cried myself to sleep, rivers of tears seeping into my pillow.
What happened next is nothing short of supernatural. The next morning, even before my eyelids peeled open, my brain was pelted with hope scriptures in rapid-fire succession:
Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. - Romans 15:12-14
And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. - Romans 5:4-6
No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame. - Psalm 25:2-4
Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. - Psalm 62:4-6
But I will hope continually, and will yet praise thee more and more. - Psalm 71:13-15
Now, first of all, I wasn’t aware that I even knew that many hope scriptures. In fact, they shocked me so much, that my eyes popped open and I lunged for the Gideon Bible inside the nightstand drawer. I flipped it open to the first few pages where they list scriptures by subject and scanned the list for “Hope.” It wasn’t there, so I settled on the scripture for “Fear.” There were only two, mind you, and I quickly paged to the first one: Hebrews 13:5.
Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.
Come again? What does fear or lack of hope have to do with covetousness and ingratitude? Give me a break, the Gideons have TONS of scriptures to choose from and they choose this???? I blinked several times … and then the Holy Spirit nailed my butt to the wall.
I had spent the last two days of this expensive conference doing NOTHING but coveting other writers’ success and complaining that it would never happen for me. My husband had forked over $800 bucks (airfare, hotel room, conference fee) so I could fly to Houston and instead of being grateful, I was utterly lonely and jealous. Talk about a one-two punch! I fell to my knees and sobbed again, only this time my tears were tears of repentance. I told God I was sorry for being such a brat, and I prayed for every woman that I had been jealous of, that God would bless the socks off of them. I asked Him to change my attitude and give me hope and help me not to be lonely the rest of the conference.
For the umpteenth time that weekend, I cleaned up my face, put on my name badge and squared my shoulders to go downstairs. The elevator opened, and I flashed a smile to the couple in the back and turned to face the door. The woman gently tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You’re from St. Louis? I live in Illinois, just twenty minutes across the river.”
I turned around and will NEVER forget the look of kindness and warmth in that woman’s eyes—like an angel sent from God. She was an ACFW author named Diana Brandmeyer (who, by the way, has a GREAT new book coming out with Barbour next January entitled Hearts on the Road, so check it out on her website at http://brandmeyer.homestead.com/). Anyway, she invited me to sit with her and her husband for breakfast. Trust me, conference food had never tasted so good!
Later that day, there was a contest for book giveaways. You simply had to write about someone who had positively affected you at the conference so far, and if the ACFW Master of Ceremonies (Brandilyn, of course!) picked your comments out of the hat, the person you wrote about won a free book. My eyes smarted with tears as I dashed a quick note about the kind woman in the elevator “whose eyes radiated love and warmth—Diana Brandmeyer.”
If you can believe it, out of over 350 women and like 2 men (grin), Brandilyn picked a handful of notes to read, and one of them was the note I had written about Diana, which referred to her “eyes full of love and warmth.” My heart jumped with excitement … until Brandilyn read my name instead of Diana’s. My heart froze when I realized I must have written my name down by mistake, thus winning a book for myself instead of Diana. Brandilyn called me up, and I was too embarrassed to tell her the truth, so I intended to return the book after the function was over. Imagine my shock when a few moments later, Brandilyn read another note about a woman “whose eyes radiated love and warmth,” only this one was the note I had written about Diana! Yes, you guessed it—two women who broke the yoke of loneliness off of each other in an elevator wrote almost exactly the same thing about the other. Go ahead, tell me that’s not a God thing!
That conference turned out to be a pivotal time in my career, not only because of the amazing friendship/critique partnership that Diana and I still share today, or even the very encouraging paid critique I received from author Tracey Bateman later on that day, but because of the invaluable lessons that the Holy Spirit taught me from the pages of a hotel-room Gideon Bible.
Yes, contests, writing classes and writers’ conferences are all important tools in traveling the road to publication. But the most important tools needed are spiritual—to keep your heart clean of jealousy by praying for those who incite it, to praise and thank God wherever you are in your journey instead of complaining, and to renew your mind with hopes scriptures instead of despair. Because the bottom line is, “hope never fails” … and neither does He.
So, I would love to hear your own conference CPR stories—I know you all have them (uh, especially Mary Connealy and Melanie Dickerson!), and there are a lot of first-time conference attendees that could use the encouragement. And for everyone that leaves a comment, I’ll toss your name in the hat for a chance to win a signed copy of your choice of one of the three books in The Daughters of Boston series. Good luck … and take a deep breath!
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Monday, September 7, 2009
free writing critiques
Terry Tiffany (from the blog "Terry Tiffany Inspirational Writer") wrote the paragraphs below, and sent them to the "So You Want To Be Published" blog, for a free critique from a published writer.
I wasn't going to write any blog posts until Thursday, but this post on Tiffany's blog excited me! I wanted to share it. The caliber of writing shown below is what I aspire to, someday, when I'm done with diapers and pouring drinks and sweeping up Cheerios. It will lend purpose to my empty-nest years. All I can do now is write, write, write. And read more fiction to study the craft.
The critiquing author emphasizes that good writing will show the reader the scene, not tell. That, and "good beefy verbs", are something to which I'll aspire. And I must use fewer commas!
Who knew one could get a free writing education via blogs! Exciting!
__________________________________________________
Lizzy Batron’s sandal-clad foot played with the accelerator like a teenager with a new license. Faster. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stomped the pedal. Lizzy catapulted past the scene of her three-year old crime as though Satan himself chased her.
Maybe he did.
The Chevy pick-up fishtailed through the curves, ramming her shoulder against the door. One hundred yards later, when she could breathe again, she wriggled her fingers, feeling hot blood course through them.
Still alive. As always.
Only then did her foot ease up on the gas.
Ten minutes later, she parked her truck alongside the grassy lane of Abington Cemetery. Her T-shirt caught on the rusty doorframe as she slid from the cab. Dang. She flinched when she caught sight of the jagged tear—an exact match to the one in her heart.
She kicked the door shut.
Ornate benches and faded Memorial Day flags directed her path until she came upon her husband’s familiar headstone. Lizzy studied his grassy mound, sprinkled with red peonies her mother-in-law had planted earlier that spring. Then she glanced back down the slight incline. “You always said you wanted the best view, Tom. Guess you got your wish.”
______________________________________________
A published writer made comments about Terri's writing. See below.
Lizzy Batron’s sandal-clad foot played with the accelerator like a teenager with a new license.(Very nice) Faster. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stomped the pedal. Lizzy catapulted past the scene of her three-year old crime as though Satan himself chased her. (great word pictures).
Maybe he did. (Nice use of a paragraph break. Gives good impact.)
The Chevy pick-up fishtailed through the curves, ramming her shoulder against the door. One hundred yards later, when she could breathe again, she wriggled her fingers, feeling hot blood course through them.
Still alive. As always.
Only then did her foot ease up on the gas.
Ten minutes later, she parked her truck alongside the grassy lane of Abington Cemetery. Her T-shirt caught on the rusty doorframe as she slid from the cab. Dang. She flinched when she caught sight of the jagged tear—an exact match to the one in her heart. (Stunning. Great paragraph. Good imagery.)
She kicked the door shut. (Great, shows her emotion.)
Ornate benches and faded Memorial Day flags directed her path until she came upon her husband’s familiar headstone.Really nice visual writing here. I can see it. Lizzy studied his grassy mound, sprinkled with red peonies her mother-in-law had (When you say "earlier that spring," you don't need the "had" since the reader now knows it happened in the past.) planted earlier that spring. Then she glanced back down the slight incline. “You always said you wanted the best view, Tom. Guess you got your wish.”
Published writer's additional comments:
This is well written with BEEFY BEAUTIFUL VERBS! Yes, I'm shouting!!! Hooray for great verbs!!!!
This is beautifully written. It's visual. Deep. It's showing, not telling. You can see the desperation of the protagonist, and a strong hint of conflict. Study this one, folks. I'm not one to dole out compliments.
I wasn't going to write any blog posts until Thursday, but this post on Tiffany's blog excited me! I wanted to share it. The caliber of writing shown below is what I aspire to, someday, when I'm done with diapers and pouring drinks and sweeping up Cheerios. It will lend purpose to my empty-nest years. All I can do now is write, write, write. And read more fiction to study the craft.
The critiquing author emphasizes that good writing will show the reader the scene, not tell. That, and "good beefy verbs", are something to which I'll aspire. And I must use fewer commas!
Who knew one could get a free writing education via blogs! Exciting!
__________________________________________________
Lizzy Batron’s sandal-clad foot played with the accelerator like a teenager with a new license. Faster. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stomped the pedal. Lizzy catapulted past the scene of her three-year old crime as though Satan himself chased her.
Maybe he did.
The Chevy pick-up fishtailed through the curves, ramming her shoulder against the door. One hundred yards later, when she could breathe again, she wriggled her fingers, feeling hot blood course through them.
Still alive. As always.
Only then did her foot ease up on the gas.
Ten minutes later, she parked her truck alongside the grassy lane of Abington Cemetery. Her T-shirt caught on the rusty doorframe as she slid from the cab. Dang. She flinched when she caught sight of the jagged tear—an exact match to the one in her heart.
She kicked the door shut.
Ornate benches and faded Memorial Day flags directed her path until she came upon her husband’s familiar headstone. Lizzy studied his grassy mound, sprinkled with red peonies her mother-in-law had planted earlier that spring. Then she glanced back down the slight incline. “You always said you wanted the best view, Tom. Guess you got your wish.”
______________________________________________
A published writer made comments about Terri's writing. See below.
Lizzy Batron’s sandal-clad foot played with the accelerator like a teenager with a new license.(Very nice) Faster. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and stomped the pedal. Lizzy catapulted past the scene of her three-year old crime as though Satan himself chased her. (great word pictures).
Maybe he did. (Nice use of a paragraph break. Gives good impact.)
The Chevy pick-up fishtailed through the curves, ramming her shoulder against the door. One hundred yards later, when she could breathe again, she wriggled her fingers, feeling hot blood course through them.
Still alive. As always.
Only then did her foot ease up on the gas.
Ten minutes later, she parked her truck alongside the grassy lane of Abington Cemetery. Her T-shirt caught on the rusty doorframe as she slid from the cab. Dang. She flinched when she caught sight of the jagged tear—an exact match to the one in her heart. (Stunning. Great paragraph. Good imagery.)
She kicked the door shut. (Great, shows her emotion.)
Ornate benches and faded Memorial Day flags directed her path until she came upon her husband’s familiar headstone.Really nice visual writing here. I can see it. Lizzy studied his grassy mound, sprinkled with red peonies her mother-in-law had (When you say "earlier that spring," you don't need the "had" since the reader now knows it happened in the past.) planted earlier that spring. Then she glanced back down the slight incline. “You always said you wanted the best view, Tom. Guess you got your wish.”
Published writer's additional comments:
This is well written with BEEFY BEAUTIFUL VERBS! Yes, I'm shouting!!! Hooray for great verbs!!!!
This is beautifully written. It's visual. Deep. It's showing, not telling. You can see the desperation of the protagonist, and a strong hint of conflict. Study this one, folks. I'm not one to dole out compliments.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
editing
I have such a problem composing smooth sentences. Too many commas! Editing after a piece is in a published form is so much easier for me. Errors and awkward sentences catch my eye quickly that way. Who knew that editing potentially takes longer than the actual composing?
Anyhow, instead of writing anything new in the next few days, I'm going to concentrate on editing the life story piece.
My sister-in-law, Lorrie, arrived from PA yesterday. I cleaned house for two days, setting aside the writing of my fall school schedule.
There's so much to do! I'll be back here Thursday.
Oh, and I'm hoping to fit in another hike as well. Early fall weather is here! Yippee! My favorite season...that is, until spring comes, then spring is my favorite season. I'm fickle that way.
Anyhow, instead of writing anything new in the next few days, I'm going to concentrate on editing the life story piece.
My sister-in-law, Lorrie, arrived from PA yesterday. I cleaned house for two days, setting aside the writing of my fall school schedule.
There's so much to do! I'll be back here Thursday.
Oh, and I'm hoping to fit in another hike as well. Early fall weather is here! Yippee! My favorite season...that is, until spring comes, then spring is my favorite season. I'm fickle that way.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Pengwnss
Dear Daniel,
I used to have this first grade student who would always add letters to the end of words, if he thought the finished word didn't look long enough. I got a kick out of it. He grew out of it as he approached conventional spelling in second grade They weren't random letters he used, just duplicate ending-sound letters.
You remind me of that student, who is now probably about twenty years old. Wow! That makes ME feel ancient! Anyhow, I was just going through today's work, and I got a kick out of this entry:
I like pengwnss. They swim in the woter. They wodol. They hav becss. They hav fliperss.
Translation: I like penguins. They swim in the water. They waddle. They have beaks. They have flippers.
Keep on writing! You've asked me a few times when you can have your own blog. We plan to do year-round school, so this summer I'm going to start you on a keyboarding tutorial, and after you know a little about typing, I'll have you set up your blog.
In the meantime, you can keep sharing mine!
I hope you get a kick out of these entries someday. One can certainly sense your passion for nature and animals!
All My Love,
Momma
I used to have this first grade student who would always add letters to the end of words, if he thought the finished word didn't look long enough. I got a kick out of it. He grew out of it as he approached conventional spelling in second grade They weren't random letters he used, just duplicate ending-sound letters.
You remind me of that student, who is now probably about twenty years old. Wow! That makes ME feel ancient! Anyhow, I was just going through today's work, and I got a kick out of this entry:
I like pengwnss. They swim in the woter. They wodol. They hav becss. They hav fliperss.
Translation: I like penguins. They swim in the water. They waddle. They have beaks. They have flippers.
Keep on writing! You've asked me a few times when you can have your own blog. We plan to do year-round school, so this summer I'm going to start you on a keyboarding tutorial, and after you know a little about typing, I'll have you set up your blog.
In the meantime, you can keep sharing mine!
I hope you get a kick out of these entries someday. One can certainly sense your passion for nature and animals!
All My Love,
Momma
Friday, May 15, 2009
You're On Your Way!
My Dearest Daniel,
You are in the first grade this year. Mommy and Daddy are your teachers and we are not two of a kind. Daddy likes to insist that your i's are dotted and the stick on your "a" is just right. If you write "my" like "mi", Daddy will stop you right away and have you correct it.
While you compose, Mommy tends to look more at what you're saying rather than the mechanics of how you say it. I want you to write for communication - for expression. There's plenty of time for mechanics. But first things first. I want you to LOVE to read, and to LOVE to write, and to LOVE to problem solve. Once you love it you'll be interested in knowing how to perfect it. I think children learn best on a need-to-know basis. The teacher's job is to create or facilitate that NEED by tapping into what makes a student tick.
So what floats your boat, Daniel? Animals! And science! Your favorites are amphibians and insects. These days you have little interest in fiction. You're a science-oriented, non-fiction buff.
I'm grateful for Daddy's involvement, Daniel. You need both of us. Daddy will set the academic bar high for you, helping you reach your highest potential. You're getting the best of both worlds by having us take teaching turns.
I am celebrating right now, Daniel! You've come to the point at which you no longer choose books that are the shortest or the easiest. You choose based upon your interests. That's purposeful, Daniel. Reading for a purpose! Reading for knowledge and pleasure! Congratulations!
And for writing time you no longer pick sentences based upon how easy they are to spell. No sirree! You write about what's on your mind! You are a writer! No word is too difficult - no subject too complicated. You just sit down, reflect, and then start composing. Glorious! You attend well to phonics and spelling lessons and I know very soon we'll see it reflected more in your work. Daddy worries about the unconventional spelling and the sloppy penmanship but within the next two years you'll make a believer out of him. A child turned on to learning always soars!
Here is what you can do right now, at seven years and four months old:
Excerpt from journal today. You wrote it after playing with your newly-caught toad:
Tods hav no webb fet. They liv on land. (Toads have no webbed feet. They live on land.)
Here is an excerpt of what you chose to read today, from Animal Babies in Ponds and Rivers:
I have big red eyes, and I make loud, croaking noises that keep other animals awake at night. Who is my mommy? My mommy is a frog, and I am her baby. We sit on water lilies and wait to "zap" insects with our long, sticky tongues.
Congratulations, Daniel! You are on your way! Mommy and Daddy love you!
You are in the first grade this year. Mommy and Daddy are your teachers and we are not two of a kind. Daddy likes to insist that your i's are dotted and the stick on your "a" is just right. If you write "my" like "mi", Daddy will stop you right away and have you correct it.
While you compose, Mommy tends to look more at what you're saying rather than the mechanics of how you say it. I want you to write for communication - for expression. There's plenty of time for mechanics. But first things first. I want you to LOVE to read, and to LOVE to write, and to LOVE to problem solve. Once you love it you'll be interested in knowing how to perfect it. I think children learn best on a need-to-know basis. The teacher's job is to create or facilitate that NEED by tapping into what makes a student tick.
So what floats your boat, Daniel? Animals! And science! Your favorites are amphibians and insects. These days you have little interest in fiction. You're a science-oriented, non-fiction buff.
I'm grateful for Daddy's involvement, Daniel. You need both of us. Daddy will set the academic bar high for you, helping you reach your highest potential. You're getting the best of both worlds by having us take teaching turns.
I am celebrating right now, Daniel! You've come to the point at which you no longer choose books that are the shortest or the easiest. You choose based upon your interests. That's purposeful, Daniel. Reading for a purpose! Reading for knowledge and pleasure! Congratulations!
And for writing time you no longer pick sentences based upon how easy they are to spell. No sirree! You write about what's on your mind! You are a writer! No word is too difficult - no subject too complicated. You just sit down, reflect, and then start composing. Glorious! You attend well to phonics and spelling lessons and I know very soon we'll see it reflected more in your work. Daddy worries about the unconventional spelling and the sloppy penmanship but within the next two years you'll make a believer out of him. A child turned on to learning always soars!
Here is what you can do right now, at seven years and four months old:
Excerpt from journal today. You wrote it after playing with your newly-caught toad:
Tods hav no webb fet. They liv on land. (Toads have no webbed feet. They live on land.)
Here is an excerpt of what you chose to read today, from Animal Babies in Ponds and Rivers:
I have big red eyes, and I make loud, croaking noises that keep other animals awake at night. Who is my mommy? My mommy is a frog, and I am her baby. We sit on water lilies and wait to "zap" insects with our long, sticky tongues.
Congratulations, Daniel! You are on your way! Mommy and Daddy love you!
Friday, April 24, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Free Printable Sight Words
Free printable sight word lists that you can glue on the inside cover of your child's journal, for easy reference.
Scroll down to find "Dolch Lists - In order of frequency"
Reference - theschoolbell.com
Scroll down to find "Dolch Lists - In order of frequency"
Reference - theschoolbell.com
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Internet
Anna Grace passed a miserable night, with her very snotty-type cold causing us to have to sleep in a nearly upright position, which made the nursing interesting. Once again, when daylight came through the window, I was so happy! We've had two sun-filled mornings. A real blessing!
The Google tracker reports are really interesting. The Internet is an amazing tool! If you haven't yet, I encourage you to put one on your blog (type google analytics into your browser, and you'll be directed). Arwen over at the Spors in the Desert blog wrote about this neat tool, but only recently was I able to understand how to insert the tracking code into the site html.
My favorite tracker report is the map overlay, showing which parts of the world have hit on the site. These countries have hit on this blog, in the last thirty days: South Africa, Brazil, Romania, Ireland, Chile, Indonesia, Sweden, China, Colombia, Malaysia, UK, Australia, and Canada. Only people from Malaysia and Canada actually read anything, but still, the world traveler in me is thrilled! I so wish someone from another country, who can read or write in English, would leave their own blog address. Reading an overseas blog and learning about the daily life of someone in Malaysia, would be so exciting to me. I wonder if Google translates blog posts into other languages? Anyone know? That would be so awesome.
As a child I traveled, due to my dad and stepdad's military service. I was born in Germany, then moved to Long Island, New York, then England, and then California. After that we lived in Guam and Sicily, both of which I remember.
I long to travel again, perhaps as a missionary. But as I said before, long-term missionary work isn't on my husband's radar, so perhaps we'll only do short-term missions someday.
The other rather neat thing is the keyword report. Last summer I wrote about volcanoes in Ohio, because of a dream Daniel had. That post gets several hits, as does one about funny restaurant stories, in which I linked to Stephanie Gray's (Canada) blog.
Anyhow, although the reports are designed to give you commercial information about your blog - assuming you are trying to make money off your blog - they are very interesting, nevertheless.
One sometimes-negative thing about the report is that you know how many people are reading your rants! I was a little more comfortable ranting when I thought only six people were listening. But, I need to rant, to retain my sanity, so I'll have to keep it up at least a couple times a week. There's no friend down the street here. And my family doesn't share my worldview (spiritually speaking) so they can't provide a listening ear either.
The Google tracker reports are really interesting. The Internet is an amazing tool! If you haven't yet, I encourage you to put one on your blog (type google analytics into your browser, and you'll be directed). Arwen over at the Spors in the Desert blog wrote about this neat tool, but only recently was I able to understand how to insert the tracking code into the site html.
My favorite tracker report is the map overlay, showing which parts of the world have hit on the site. These countries have hit on this blog, in the last thirty days: South Africa, Brazil, Romania, Ireland, Chile, Indonesia, Sweden, China, Colombia, Malaysia, UK, Australia, and Canada. Only people from Malaysia and Canada actually read anything, but still, the world traveler in me is thrilled! I so wish someone from another country, who can read or write in English, would leave their own blog address. Reading an overseas blog and learning about the daily life of someone in Malaysia, would be so exciting to me. I wonder if Google translates blog posts into other languages? Anyone know? That would be so awesome.
As a child I traveled, due to my dad and stepdad's military service. I was born in Germany, then moved to Long Island, New York, then England, and then California. After that we lived in Guam and Sicily, both of which I remember.
I long to travel again, perhaps as a missionary. But as I said before, long-term missionary work isn't on my husband's radar, so perhaps we'll only do short-term missions someday.
The other rather neat thing is the keyword report. Last summer I wrote about volcanoes in Ohio, because of a dream Daniel had. That post gets several hits, as does one about funny restaurant stories, in which I linked to Stephanie Gray's (Canada) blog.
Anyhow, although the reports are designed to give you commercial information about your blog - assuming you are trying to make money off your blog - they are very interesting, nevertheless.
One sometimes-negative thing about the report is that you know how many people are reading your rants! I was a little more comfortable ranting when I thought only six people were listening. But, I need to rant, to retain my sanity, so I'll have to keep it up at least a couple times a week. There's no friend down the street here. And my family doesn't share my worldview (spiritually speaking) so they can't provide a listening ear either.
Friday, April 17, 2009
First Grade Sight Words
first grade printables
This site has trace-and-write worksheets featuring the first-grade sight word list. These sheets will help your first grader learn to spell sight words correctly, especially if he or she is a tactile-kinesthetic learner.
This site has trace-and-write worksheets featuring the first-grade sight word list. These sheets will help your first grader learn to spell sight words correctly, especially if he or she is a tactile-kinesthetic learner.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The Magic Eraser
I've been trying hard to write something everyday. I've learned that small, odd writing jobs don't bring much money into the house. That, coupled with my fear of meeting deadlines while in the midst of caring for a young baby, have kept me from applying with the entry-level websites. Building a writing resume is the first order of business, so I need any work I do to bring a good reference. I have to be ready to devote sufficient time to research and editing, and I need time to take a blogging or technology class somewhere around here. We're a small township outside of Akron, so hopefully, with a large city somewhat close, I can find a worthwhile class when the time is right.
These ideas seem to be supported by the Lord; basically, that now is the time to practice and learn, rather than apply.
Tonight I have little time and not much to say. Don's sister will be arriving from PA tomorrow afternoon, staying through Sunday morning. Tonight must be devoted to cleaning. It's not like we live in a company-ready house. But I'm sure you guessed that.
Daniel usually enjoys my pre-company cleaning mania. Anticipating it and wanting to help, he was annoyed it hadn't started yet. Like, isn't she coming tomorrow? Yeah - but what will I do with Anna Grace, Dear Daniel? Daddy is doing everything else. He can't hold her too.
I'll do what I can, which is mainly dusting and vacuuming, and putting paper clutter into empty diaper boxes, to be put out of sight and sorted later. And I'll clean the bathrooms with Clorox wipes and windex. Not the usual frenzy, but it will have to do. His sister would get lower points than me on housekeeping, so I think I'm pretty safe. She lives alone, with three cats. You thought kids did a number on a house? I'd rather clean up after four kids than even one cat - anyday. Sorry, Stephanie from Canada - hope that doesn't offend. I love ya. I know you're fond of cats.
I'll leave you with details of my new-found love for Magic Erasers. They clean your microwave beautifully, with very little muscle work required. Try them on the inside of your refrigerator, your vinyl siding, kid-dirtied walls (does take an imperceptible bit of paint off), and anything that's hard to clean because of texturing, like the outside of the fridge (ours isn't a smooth finish). I always dreaded cleaning our microwave and fridge, but no more. They're all easy jobs with the Magic Eraser!
I'll leave you on that very commercial-ly note.
These ideas seem to be supported by the Lord; basically, that now is the time to practice and learn, rather than apply.
Tonight I have little time and not much to say. Don's sister will be arriving from PA tomorrow afternoon, staying through Sunday morning. Tonight must be devoted to cleaning. It's not like we live in a company-ready house. But I'm sure you guessed that.
Daniel usually enjoys my pre-company cleaning mania. Anticipating it and wanting to help, he was annoyed it hadn't started yet. Like, isn't she coming tomorrow? Yeah - but what will I do with Anna Grace, Dear Daniel? Daddy is doing everything else. He can't hold her too.
I'll do what I can, which is mainly dusting and vacuuming, and putting paper clutter into empty diaper boxes, to be put out of sight and sorted later. And I'll clean the bathrooms with Clorox wipes and windex. Not the usual frenzy, but it will have to do. His sister would get lower points than me on housekeeping, so I think I'm pretty safe. She lives alone, with three cats. You thought kids did a number on a house? I'd rather clean up after four kids than even one cat - anyday. Sorry, Stephanie from Canada - hope that doesn't offend. I love ya. I know you're fond of cats.
I'll leave you with details of my new-found love for Magic Erasers. They clean your microwave beautifully, with very little muscle work required. Try them on the inside of your refrigerator, your vinyl siding, kid-dirtied walls (does take an imperceptible bit of paint off), and anything that's hard to clean because of texturing, like the outside of the fridge (ours isn't a smooth finish). I always dreaded cleaning our microwave and fridge, but no more. They're all easy jobs with the Magic Eraser!
I'll leave you on that very commercial-ly note.
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