annie blog

Happy 2009!
My grandmother always said to take care of what you do on New Year’s Day because you’d end up doing it every day of the next year. My mom told me this morning that my grandmother therefore avoided doing laundry on New Year’s. Of course, if doing laundry were as easy for her as it is for me with all my modern conveniences, then I’m sure that it wouldn’t have been on her list of things to avoid doing. That woman was no shirker.

On this first day of 2009, I
read
cooked some new recipes
shopped for groceries
smiled a lot
did laundry
and learned to play the bass, a little

If I have to do those things every day of the coming year, well, that’d be fine with me.

Merry Christmas!
Here is a Christmas poem from G.K. Chesterton.

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost—how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.

This world is wild as an old wife’s tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

(from the hog’s head)

I hope that you all had a fun and blessed day.

Merry Christmas!
Here is a Christmas poem from G.K. Chesterton.

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost—how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.

This world is wild as an old wife’s tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

(from the hog’s head)

I hope that you all had a fun and blessed day.

Merry Christmas!
Here is a Christmas poem from G.K. Chesterton.

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost—how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.

This world is wild as an old wife’s tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall all men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

(from the hog’s head)

I hope that you all had a fun and blessed day.

Star Wars Slip
During communion at our church, when passing the wine, we also pass the peace of Christ to our neighbor by saying, “The peace of Christ be with you.” Today my 8 year old slipped. Instead of saying, “The peace of Christ be with you,” he accidently said, “And may the Force be with you.”

It was going to happen sooner or later. Though, I suppose that the peace of Christ is sort of a force, in its way.

Star Wars Slip
During communion at our church, when passing the wine, we also pass the peace of Christ to our neighbor by saying, “The peace of Christ be with you.” Today my 8 year old slipped. Instead of saying, “The peace of Christ be with you,” he accidently said, “And may the Force be with you.”

It was going to happen sooner or later. Though, I suppose that the peace of Christ is sort of a force, in its way.

Star Wars Slip
During communion at our church, when passing the wine, we also pass the peace of Christ to our neighbor by saying, “The peace of Christ be with you.” Today my 8 year old slipped. Instead of saying, “The peace of Christ be with you,” he accidently said, “And may the Force be with you.”

It was going to happen sooner or later. Though, I suppose that the peace of Christ is sort of a force, in its way.

Yumola
I hope that y’all know what I mean by the -ola here. It is just a bit of an intensifier. So, Yumola=major yummy. What is yumola? These cookies. Of course, you have to like butterscotch. 5 out of 6 Barlows love them — all except for the youngest who ran through the kitchen to get away from “that HORRIBLE butterscotch smell.” What? This is the same boy who will sadly be without dessert tonight because the cookies are all that I have in the house.

He’ll live.

I’d post my version of the recipe except that I don’t have one. I made the recipe exactly as it was written. Although, I do plan to add just a bit more cinnamon next time and use some dark brown sugar instead of light brown.

These cookies also caused a bit of a furor over at Parents.com. You have to appreciate a cookie that could do that.

Yumola
I hope that y’all know what I mean by the -ola here. It is just a bit of an intensifier. So, Yumola=major yummy. What is yumola? These cookies. Of course, you have to like butterscotch. 5 out of 6 Barlows love them — all except for the youngest who ran through the kitchen to get away from “that HORRIBLE butterscotch smell.” What? This is the same boy who will sadly be without dessert tonight because the cookies are all that I have in the house.

He’ll live.

I’d post my version of the recipe except that I don’t have one. I made the recipe exactly as it was written. Although, I do plan to add just a bit more cinnamon next time and use some dark brown sugar instead of light brown.

These cookies also caused a bit of a furor over at Parents.com. You have to appreciate a cookie that could do that.

Yumola
I hope that y’all know what I mean by the -ola here. It is just a bit of an intensifier. So, Yumola=major yummy. What is yumola? These cookies. Of course, you have to like butterscotch. 5 out of 6 Barlows love them — all except for the youngest who ran through the kitchen to get away from “that HORRIBLE butterscotch smell.” What? This is the same boy who will sadly be without dessert tonight because the cookies are all that I have in the house.

He’ll live.

I’d post my version of the recipe except that I don’t have one. I made the recipe exactly as it was written. Although, I do plan to add just a bit more cinnamon next time and use some dark brown sugar instead of light brown.

These cookies also caused a bit of a furor over at Parents.com. You have to appreciate a cookie that could do that.