It's 1:30 in the afternoon and I'm still dressed in my pajamas.  I have a cup of Earl Grey and a book.  My kids have completed their school for the day and are watching a DVD.  Life is soooooo good.

Happy President's Day.

Finite or Infinite Games?

Game - a physical or mental competition conducted according to  rules.

*There are at least two kinds of games.  One could be called finite, the other infinite.  A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play.

If a finite game is to be won by someone, it must come to a definite end.  It will come to a definite end when someone has won.We know that someone has won the game when all the players have agreed who among them is the winner.  No condition other than the agreement of the players is absolutely required in determining who has won the game.  It may appear that the approval of the spectators or the referees, is also required in the determination of the winner.  However it is simply the case that if the players do not agree on a winner, the game has not come to a decisive conclusion - and the players have not satisfied the original purpose of playing.  Even if they are carried from the field and blocked from further play, they will not considered the game ended. 

No one can play who is forced to play.  It is an invariable principle that whoever plays plays freely.  Whoever must play, cannot play.   Persons are selected for finite play.  It is the case that we cannot play if we must play, but it is also the case that we cannot play alone.  Thus in every case we must find an opponent and in most cases teammates who are willing to join in play with us.  Not everyone who wishes to do so may play for or against the New York Yankees.  Neither can they be electricians or agronomists by individual choice without the approval of their potential colleagues or competitors.  Because finite playes cannot select themselves for play, there is never a time when they cannot be removed from the game, or when the other contestants cannot refuse to play with them.  The license never belongs to the licensee nor the commission to the officer.

Finite games have boundaries.  Just as it is necessary for the game to have a definite ending, it must also have a precise beginning.   Therefore we can speak of finite games as having temporal boundaries.  But, players must also agree to the establishment of spatial and numerical boundaries.  Spatial boundaries are evident in every finite game from board and court games to world wars.  Opponents in WWII agreed not to bomb Heidleberg or Paris and declared Switzerland outside the boundaries of conflict.  When damage is inflicted outside the boundaries, a question arises as to the legitimacy of the victory that side may claim or whether it has been a war at all and not simply gratuitious unwarranted violence.  When Sherman burned his way from Atlanta to the sea, he so violated the sense of spatial (and numerical, in that he warred on bystanders in addition to opposing players) boundary that for many persons the war was not legitimately won by the Union Army and has in fact never been concluded.  

In one respect but only one, an infinite game is identical to a finite game.  Of infinite players we may also say that if they play, they play freely.  Otherwise, infinite and finite play stand in the sharpest possible contrast.  Infinite players cannot say when their game began, nor do they care.  They do not care for their game is not bounded by time.  Indeed, the only purpose of the game is to prevent it from coming to an end, to keep everyone in play.  There are no spatial or numerical boundaries to an infinite game.  No world is marked with the barriers of infinite play and there is no question of eligibility since anyone who wishes may enter the game.  While finite games are externally defined, infinite games are internally defined.  The time of an infinite game is not world time, but time created within the play itself.  Since each play of an infinite game eliminates boundaries, it opens players to a new horizon of time.  

If the rules of a finite game are unique to that game, it is evident that the rules maynot change in the course of play else a different game is being played.  It is on this point that we find the most critical distinction between finite and infinite games.  The rules of an infinite game must change in the course of play.  The rules are changed when the players agree that the game is imperiled by a finite outcome - that is, by the victory of some players and the defeat of others.  The rules of an infinite game are changed to prevent anyone from winning and to bring as many persons as possible into play.  For this reason the rules of an infinite game have a different status than those of a finite game.  They are like the grammar of a living language, where those of a finite game are like the rules fo a debate.  In the former case we observe rules as a way of continuing discourse with one another, in the latter we observe rules in order to bring the speech of another person to an end.  The rules, or grammar of a living language are always evolving to guarantee the meaningfulness of discourse, the rules of debate must remain constant.

War - finite game

Civilization - infinite game

Which game do you want to play?   

(From Finite and Infinite Games, A Vision of Life as Play and Possibility by James Carse)

Imagine My Surprise

It's been a busy few days around the Verrette Villa.  Tim brought me a dozen roses the day before Valentine's with a card that was so sweet it made me cry.  Just when I'm thinking that he doesn't understand me at all, he does something like this to show me that he understands me as well or better than I understand myself. 

Valentine's Day was fun.  We are having some horrible weather here, of the ice variety, so we did dinner at home.  {Steak, baked sweet potatoes with cinnamon and brown sugar, salad, and carrot cake for dessert.}  The boys had a card for Tim.  And he made time to play with them. 

Yesterday, it rained all day, so we again stayed as close to home as we could.  Last night we had a "make your own lasagna party".  For our kids.  We made chef's hats of posterboard and tissue paper.  I had prepared lasagna noodles, marinara sauce, and had sauteed veggies for the grownups.  Each person got his own small loaf pan and layered the ingredients for his own perfect lasagna.  (Then when they came out of the oven, Michael and Tucker accidentally got them reversed so they wound up each eating the other's creation.)  After dinner we fired up the DVD player and watched old movies.  Cary Grant, Fred Astaire, and popcorn, oh, my!  (We have a Gary Cooper one wating but we zonked out about 10:00 and had to go to bed.)

This morning there is more ice, and snow, and it's sleeting as I type.  So we'll be holed up indoors again.  I had thought this morning would be a good time for some introspection, and a bit of writing here in Xangaland.  But, when I logged in, I see that my site has been taken over by a particularly perky pixie.  (See previous post.)  For some reason, the blog she left has chased all kinds of introspection out of my head and left me with an abdominal ache from the laughter. 

I ran across a quote the other day that I really liked, "More belongs to a marriage than four bare legs in a bed."  by John Heywood.  Marriage is certainly a skin on skin arrangement, but it's also tears, flowers, laughter, a shared glance, the figuring out how to make a chef's hat, lasagna and old movies. 

Since Terri hasn't posted since Wednesday - I have decided to help her out.  She mentioned some "deep" quote that she was thinking about blogging on but since she hasn't taken the time to develope it yet I figured her blank page was "fair game"

She is working happily at home at the moment to prepare a "memorable Valentine event" for her husband.  I am not clear on the specific details but i am sure that it will involve good food, some wine ..... and hours upon hours of gratuitous sex.  

Be sure to ask her about it tomorrow and if she isn't too exhausted I feel certain she will let you know EXACTLY what she thinks about this post!

Happy V-Day to ALL!  Good Night!

signed - Fugi

Writing Down Dreams

I've been reading J D Robb mysteries.  For those of you who aren't familiar with these books, they are authored by Nora Roberts under the pen name J D Robb.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Nora Roberts, well, you'll just have to check the NYT bestseller lists for yourself because you won't believe me if I tell you about her phenomenal success.  In an age of publishing no more than one novel per year for fear of saturating the market, she already has 6 new releases scheduled for 2003.  Add to that the 7 books that have previously been released only in hardcover that are being released for the first time as paperbacks and you have something beyond a publisher's dream.  I wonder when she sleeps.

The best job I ever had was the year I worked for a little book store in Little Rock, Arkansas.  My boss, Bud, paid me what he could, but there just weren't a lot of profits and I was lucky if I made $200 a week there.  (Bud also had a standing policy that if someone came in with "that" look in their eye, I was to "accidentally" sell the book to them for our cost.  That was fantastic.)  I had to have a second job to pay my bills. 

I used to wonder about the people who came into the store and why they chose the books they did.  I wasn't like the FBI trying to figure out whether your reading choices meant you might be a terrorist, I was more interested in how quickly I came to know the tastes of our regular customers.  How did I know that one person who had enjoyed a novel by author a would also enjoy one by author b when another person who had enjoyed a would despise b?  I'm not psychic (at least not in that way.)  I talked to people and came to recognize and respect their dreams.

I didn't limit myself to reading one or even three different genres.  I read everything.  Bud used to laugh at me, as I'd take home two books a night and six if I had a day off.  Then as I read the books (you didn't think that was my dream job because of the long hours and low pay did you?) I was able to match the dream they painted with the customer looking for that particular vision. 

I believe that the stories we tell can and often are more significant than the data we collect about our world.  The dreams we dream and the narratives we translate our dreams into are sculpted by our longings and become our destiny.  When we pick up a book, the extent to which we identify with the characters, their choices and their reactions to their circumstances is the degree to which we are confirmed in our own choices and reactions.  I like books in which contain easy banter between friends, warm bonds within families, and hot sex between mates.  I prefer stories in which there is a puzzle to be solved, a battle to be won, or a step taken toward a better way. 

So why, oh, why is it that when I try to write a story, my characters insist on being dark brooding types with a thin sense of humor?  Why do they make stupid choices, wallow in pride and mistrust anything except honest sarcasm?  I've been working on a short story for dread pirate's contest.  (Take it as a sign of the depth of my feeling about this that I'm breaking a cardinal rule by providing a link to his site.)  I've been working on it for almost two months.  I've ripped it up, deleted it and started over a dozen times.  I know my character's name and her circumstances, I know her motivations and I know the decision she has to make.  I've just about come to dislike her more than any real person I've ever known.  And I realized that the reason I'm having such a problem with her, is that she refuses to acknowledge her dream.  

Grapenuts are truly nasty

I thought it would be nice to try adding a few of the things that my doctor recommends I include in my diet to improve the state of my health.  I can report that Grapenuts are every bit as nasty as I've always imagined them  to be.  Suckers are to milk like cockroaches are to radiation - unaffected.  The roof of my mouth feels abused and my taste buds are insulted.  Great, now I'm starting off the day with my body irritated at the world in general and me in particular.

I hate starting my day in a bad mood.  Left to my own devices I wake up happy, sunny, cheerful even.   I've toned it down over the years, but in the early days of our relationship, it was quite the cross for Tim to bear.  He'd reach for his shades in the morning and I'd try not to beam in his direction with full force until after his second cup of coffee.

These days I'm not nearly so rough on the nerves of the naturally grumpy.  In fact, some days I worry that I'm in danger of becoming the naturally grumpy.  Then I take a look around and usually within a very short time I see something completely absurd that tickles my funny bone and reminds me that my life is good and the world is a wonder-ful, whimsical, playful place to be if I'm willing to let go of my small pettinesses and go with it.

My dog is approximately 4 pounds (she's a little overweight, but don't say anything to her, I'm afraid she's sensitive on the topic of those hips) of pure attitude.  Tim is 6 feet 7 inches of manly stoicism.  Every now and then, Simone gets the idea that she can take him down.  Last night he played along.  She barked and leapt and pounced (at least that's what I think she thought she was doing, from our point of view it looked like one of those fuzzy wind-up dogs they set yipping in the doorway of the toy store at the mall.)  Tim allowed himself to be "pulled" to the floor where she promptly seated herself on his chest with a ferocious growl to conclude the performance.

THYRIO had a marvelous blog last week, I think it was on Friday about the scale of existence between quarks, humans, and God.  Simone probably hadn't read it.  But, she aptly illustrated his point about the absurdity of humanity thinking there's anything we can do to influence God apart from His cooperation with the project.  What's the point of trying to be good, toe the line, live by impresive rules and regulations unless God has the desire, capacity and ability to bend down through the continuum and engage with us in a way that is meaningful.  Even my use for the pronoun His is fraught with absurdity.  For humans to assign gender to God is about as significant to reality as a couple of subatomic particles referring to humans as Positive or Negative.  Simply because their charge is significant to them, as our sex is to us doesn't mean that the use of a gender pronoun in regard to God means anything other than my inability to transcend the language I speak. 

Paul Tillich, the masterful theologian, wrestled with the limitations of using language to refer to God.  He said that "the question of the existence of God can be neither asked nor answered.  If asked, it is a question about that which by its very nature is above existence, and therefore the answer - whether negative or affirmative - implicitly denies the nature of God.  It is as atheistic to affirm the existence of God as it is to deny it.  God is being-itself, not a being."  Before we gather the judges for the heresy trial of a theologian who says God does not exist, I hope we can take a minute to recognize that his statement isn't as absurd as it first appears.  It operates as a repudiation of every form of belief in a finite diety.  Tillich means, not that the term "God" refers to an unreal concept, but that the reality to which the term refers is not merely one among others.  God is not the first or the highest being, but rather the ground and source of all being. Tillich was emphasizing the point that the creator and the created cannot be said to exist in precisely the same sense.

The existence of a quark and the existence of a human are not precisely the same.  The existence of Simone and the existence of Tim are not precisely the same.  The existence of God is so far off the scale of existence as we have the capacity to understand it that all the philosophy, theorizing, dogma and doctrine we generate cannot help but revealing the foolishness of man.  No wonder prophets have said that "all our righteousness is as filthy rags" and "the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight." 

After all, in a world where we have hundreds of thousands of marvelous tasty delicious things to eat, and still the people who manufacture Grapenuts are making money.  How smart could we be?

I feel much better now.

Got Valentine's?

The day after Christmas local stores erected displays of Valentine's merchandise.  Chocolates, hearts, and black lacey lingerie greet me at the door.  Large signs over the jewelry counters advise men that anything less than a diamond is an insulting gift to their Valentine.  Romantic comedy's suitable for a Valentine Date have been released to theaters.  The stage is all set.  Expectations are high.  Anyone getting performance anxiety yet?  Don't worry guys, there's still time to stop off at your doctor's office and pick up a prescription for the little blue pill.

I have no desire to see the pendulum swing back to the days of Victorian repression of sexuality.  Denial of such an integral part of human nature makes us less than human.  I wonder though, whether we aren't in just as severe state of denial in our age.  We've taken sex off the pedestal, brought it out of the bedroom, and we didn't stop at the livingroom or kitchen.  We see it everywhere we turn in public life.  It's on our television, in the mall, and in the fashions designed for our children to wear.  What are we thinking?

Are we truly accepting human sexuality for what it is?  Or by making it commonplace and public are we denying it's significance to our life experience?   

Dealing With Disney

I've had a lot of mixed feelings about the Disney corporation and products over the years.  I was disappointed by the infantile "easter eggs" that were sneaked into Little Mermaid and Lion King.  I have wished that the female characters were stronger, less dependent on Prince Charming to swoop in and save them.  I've had the cynical view that the Disney vision had very little to do with reality and a lot to do with illusions created by smoke and mirrors that couldn't stand the light of life as we know it to actually be.  A visit to DisneyWorld has been one of those experiences that I've wanted in the same way I imagine an alcoholic wants a drink, with a guilty longing.  I was certain that the pain of dis-illusion would not be worth the pleasure of the high moment.  I was wrong.

We spent our first day at the Epcot Center.  Now we've been told by other DisneyWorld visitors that Epcot wouldn't be fun for the kids, but our kids had a blast.  There aren't many thrill rides (for that matter the thrill rides of the Magic Kingdom weren't nearly as exciting as I'd anticipated.)  The Epcot Center is devoted to presentations of new technologies.  Walking through the gates we got our first taste of just how different the Disney themeparks are from any other park we've ever see.  Tim put his hand on my arm and said, "listen."

"Listen to what?"

"Just listen!"

I listened.  ". . . Listen to WHAT!?"

"How many different languages do you hear spoken right now?"

In addition to English, we could hear French, German, Janapese, Spanish, and another that may have been Russion but we weren't sure.  I knew in a sort of "back of my mind" kind of way that people from around the world came to Orlando, but I had no idea that so MANY people from around the world would be there.  As we walked around Innoventions oohing and aahing over coming technology, we continued to notice and appreciate the International Flavor and feel of the place.

Epcot offers exploration of Spaceship Earth with interactive opportunities.  From the Universe of Energy, the Wonders of Life, The Test Track, the Land, the Living Sea, and the world of Imagination it's a sensual immersion in the human environment and experience from the perspective of an outsider.  Our bodies, our world, our minds, and our imaginations invite us to wonder, play, and feel.  I came away thinking "aaaah, so that's what it means to be a human on earth!"  The kids were particularly impressed with the agricultural displays, the environmental "propoganda" and the nutrition show.  Ok, I enjoyed the nutrition show.  "Pita" Gabriel singing "I . want . to . be . your . highfiber!" was a riot.

But, we didn't spend much time in the future world part of Epcot.  We toured the World Showcase.  We saw the Pavilions of Mexico, Norway, China, (some part of Africa that wasn't clearly identified), Germany, Italy, and Japan.  The sights, smells, tastes, languages, and objects imported from each of those places intrigued us.  Tucker's favorite part hands down was the performance of the Chinese Acrobats.  They were amazing.  There were other Pavilions, but we didn't make it around the lake to see them before the Tapestry of Dreams Parade began. 

Each child is given a mask and at each different Pavilion they visit a kiosk where they add decoration and recieve a medallion representing that nation.  So that by the time they have completed their tour, they have a personalized souvenir of their journey.  Then just after dusk, the sound of drums reverbates through the park and everyone finds a place along the parade route.  Music, 30 foot tall puppets operated by dancers from below, floats with drums and windchimes all wind their way through the park as accompaniment to the voices of children who voice their dreams.  Anyone who can observe the celebration without feeling her feet dance of their own accord is either devoid of human spirit, or has walked so much that the feet in question are numb.  (Note to me: take good walking shoes!)

After the Tapestry of Dreams, it's only a short time (just about right for a visit to one of the many excellent restaurants operated by natives of the lands represented in the World Showcase) until the lamps are turned off and the drums beat again.  This time the drumbeat is calling us to the edge of the water where we find a place to watch the show.  Illuminations isn't just a fireworks display.  The rockets and sparks punctuate a laser display projected onto a large spinning globe. 

Gently and with great compassion the Epcot experience is designed to lead visitors to an inescapable conclusion, all our individual futures, and the future of all mankind depend on our ability to grasp the significance of our actions in this moment.  The World of Disney didn't just magically appear, rising out of the desert sands like Aladdin's Cave of Wonders.  The vision that Walt Disney bequeathed as his legacy to the World isn't a smoke and mirrors illusion.  No, Walt Disney was very much aware of the pain, tears, suffering and hunger that are our constant companions.  His legacy isn't a denial of the human condition, it's a celebration of the human potential.   He paints with a brush of hope, courage, and imagination the picture of what we are capable of acheiving.  He doesn't offer it as a rosy prediction, but as the goal of focused effort.  He shows us the truth that each of our choices and actions ripple out across the sea of man to influence and mold not only today, but all the days to come. 

What an awesome thing it is to be a human in this age of wonders, dreams, and opportunities.  What a powerful obligation we have to put our shoulder to the wheel and demand of ourselves a radical commitment to peace, justice and dare I say it? . . . love.

Winding Down -

My Florida vacation is almost over.  (I'll post the requisite photos this weekend.)  It's been a wonderful trip - and not least of the wonders is the large amount of material perking in my head for future Xanga posts.  We spent longer in the Magical Kingdom than we had originally planned.  Any visit to DisneyWorld has to result in surreal feelings of displacement when you try to re-enter real life.  We are no exceptions to this rule, and I've had several days to think about the implications of this phenomenon.

Some of you may have noted that we were supposed to be going to the Kennedy Space Center.  If our intinerary had been followed as it was laid out, we would have been among those waiting for Columbia to land.  Instead, we traded our nights in Cocoa Beach for extra nights in Orlando.  As we were leaving DisneyWorld 70 miles away we tuned in and heard the news of the disaster on the radio. 

Since Saturday evening we've been in North Forida visiting my In-laws.  Tim's parents move here a few years ago guaranteed that their grandkids would be coming for semi-annual visits.  I'm not interested in speeding the clock, but I'm ready to retire to Florida and spend my days on the beach.  I'm real okay with being one of the overweight Midwesterners who flock here and annoy the natives.

We are packing our things and doing our laundry today in between games of Upwords, Scrabble and Dominos (one of the reasons that I get along so well with my MIL is that we both love to play and spend hours doing so on every visit.)  Tomorrow morning we will be heading back North to the real real world that's been more or less on hold for the past 10 days.  But, I refuse to indulge in post vacation blues.  I'm already making plans for our next trip.  And for that one - I'm bringing Fugitive and her kids.  (She obviously shouldn't be left in charge of the Xanga sites, so I'm going to have to keep an eye on her.  ) 

A Few Things You Probably Already Knew About Me

(as amended by Fugitive)

1. Where are you?  Normally, I'm in Indiana, but this week I'm on vacation in Florida. ** she normally has her head in the clouds and her feet on the moon **
2. Name as it appears on your birth certificate?  Terrie Beth Chenault
3. Nicknames? When I was in high school I was Munchkin - Nothing since then has stuck unless you count my Xanga name, quiltnmomi.**" TBC" - we used to call her tuberculosis when we were kids but she would get mad and tell on us **
4. Where do you come from?  Generally I speak from a philosophy of Christian Theism ** somewhere over the rainbow **
5. Number of candles that appeared on your last birthday cake:  39, really, I'm actually 39, NO I'm not 40 something just SAYING I'm 39. ** yeah right .... okay ** 
6 ate that you regularly blow them out? June 18, except that since Michael and I share a b-day, I haven't actually gotten to blow out the candles for the past 8 years.
7. Pets:  2 dogs (Simone, the Poodle and Buddy, the Golden Retreiver) 2 cats (Smudge and Calli), 2 goldfish (unnamed), and the boys are asking for a lizard but I draw the line at reptiles. ** until recently she also had two goats and a variety of rabbits; personally I think she should include her children as pets ... it takes longer to housebreak a human child than it does most dogs **
8. Eye color: blue
9. Hair color: brownish red - it would be more red if I were brave enough to strip the brown off before I dye it.  ** it has been too long .... she doesn't know what her natural hair color is anymore **
10. Piercing: 1 in each ear.
11. Tattoos: none - have I mentioned that I have a "thing" about needles? 
12. How much do you love your job? (1-10): 8 - Most days are great, but the salary package stinks, and the vacation policy could use some adjustment. ** but she gets to stay home and lounge in her PJ's all day if the mood strikes her - how bad can that possibly be?? ** 
13. Favorite color and least favorite?  I really like watery colors, purple, aqua and blue.  I don't like orange.
14. Current Home: Salem IN and I'm very amused by Exmortis' pun on my  current address 'DeBitter Ind' ** where her rump rests - she is one of those unique individuals that can truly make herself at home no matter where she is!**
15.Current residence: Well, so far it's not the lunatic asylum. ** the mansion on the hill - stikingly similar to both the Beverly HillBillies mansion and the hotel on Psycho depending on which day it is **
16. Favorite Food: almost anything if I'm hungry, nothing if I'm not
17. Been to Africa? no
18. Have you loved somebody so much it made you cry?   Yes - don't you feel sorry for anyone who would have to answer this question "no"
19.Been toilet papering? Yes
20. Been in a car accident? Yes
21. Croutons or bacon bits?  (0_o)  Croutons on Caesar salad, other than that, I prefer a nice soft freshly baked roll.
22. Sprite or 7-up? I'm a diet coke gal 
23. Favorite Movie?  Chocolat, Steel Magnolias, The Princess Bride
24. Favorite Day of the week? Saturday - we have family time all day then attend the Saturday evening service at our church (we say we are sacrificing our spot in the crowded Sunday service, but we really like the more relaxed atmostphere of the Saturday evening experience.
25. Favorite Restaurant? Asian Pearl for Chinese, Macaroni Grill for Italian, and Outback Steakhouse for good old American steak, baked potato and salad. ** Fugitive's kitchen **
26. Favorite Toothpaste: Crest gel (You know some of these are getting personal!)
27. Favorite Flower:  Pink or yellow roses - my very favorites are the Peace Roses which are pinkish at the tips with a yellow center - Tim and the boys gave me two Peace Rose bushes last year for Mother's Day. 
28. Favorite Drink:  Diet Coke, Red Zinger tea, or a Margarita ** or one of Fugitive's "hairy bellybuttons" **
29. Favorite sport to watch?  Ice Skating
30. Preferred type of ice cream: Tin Roof Sundae or Rocky Road ** anything on the Schwann's truck **
31. Favorite Sesame Street Character: Grover
32.Where would you like to visit?  Right now, today, I happy to be in Southern Florida.  In general, I'd like to spend a long time exploring Europe, especially the British Isles.
33. Favorite Fast Food restaurant?  Subway or Arby's
34. Who is the last person you got e-mail from? A fellow Xangan
35. Have you ever been convicted of a crime?   No, but I was once declared a public nuisance in Minnesota.  (It's a long story and not nearly as interesting as it sounds up front, but it's true.) ** don't let her fool you - it is actually a VERY FUNNY story **
36. Which single store would you choose to max out your credit card? Barnes and Noble ** Victoria's Secret  - her collection of lingerie in college would rival Amelda Marcos' shoes! **
37. What do you most often do when you are bored? Bored?  Who has time to be bored? ** watch out the front window for the Schwann's man **
38. Who is your friend who lives farthest away?  I'm not sure.  Do family count?  Is Korea further away than Jerusalem?
39. Most annoying thing people ask me?  You're homeschooling?  But what about the children's need for socialization?
40. Bedtime: Usually 10:00 ** unless I forget the time diffenecr then it becomes whatever time we get off the phone **
41. Are you a morning person or a night person?  I don't know anymore.  If left to my own devices I imagine I'd be a night person . . . but it's been so long I'm not sure I even have devices anymore. ** she is naturally such a night person that it becomes almost a morning thing **
42. Pet peeve?  Boys who don't aim.
43. Most embarrassing moment:  I don't know, actually nothing is coming to mind at the moment and that's a bit embarrassing. ** being present during a conversation I was having with our mother about sex **
44. Favorite all time TV show: My current favorite is CSI but I'm not much of a tv person.
45. Last Person you went out to dinner with? Tim and the boys took me out to O'Charleys last Sunday
46. Last Movie you saw in a theater? LOTR - The Two Towers
47. Favorite free-time activity: Bubble bath, with the works - candles lit, music playing and tall glass of iced tea to sip, maybe a book. ** fantasizing about the goodies on the Schwann's man's truck **
48. Favorite magazine:  Family Fun
49. Latest book(s) you've been reading:  I'm reading through Provocations, collected spritual writings of Soren Kierkegaard (one essay per night)  and The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey.  I just finished Patricia Cornwell's Book about the Jack the Ripper Case, and in my To-be-read soon pile I have Jesus by David Flusser and a half-dozen J D Robb mysteries for while I'm on vacation.
50. Favorite form of media?  Books ** breaking newsbriefs directly from me (Fugitive) **