In Which I Wear the Foil Hat to Watch TV

The new channels are here. I celebrated last night by being very careful to watch programs that I hadn't been able to get before. Because I couldn't bear the thought of spending my first night with digital cable watching the ten o'clock news on a channel that I could get with rabbit ears.

I was a little worried about the installation appointment. Besides the fact that I don't like to have strangers in my space in general, my children, in anticipation of getting more channels, had doubled up on school work all week in order to spend the whole of Wednesday afternoon curdling their minds with vacuous children's programming.

I didn't mind that so much (since I was planning on spending a bit of time watching HGTV myself), but I didn't really want them to ANNOUNCE to the cable guy that they were homeschooled and were going to watch TV all day in celebration.

Just wait and let Mommy announce that on the Internet, okay kids?

But at the end of the appointment is when things went south. Because while Brian at the cable help desk was busy telling me that I sounded twenty-five on the phone, he was also telling me that I only needed one cable box. And while I couldn't understand how that could possibly work, I didn't want to strain my young-sounding voice by asking too many questions. Besides, I assumed that since he worked at the cable company help desk, surely he knew what he was talking about.

I'll pause while you laugh at my naivete.

It turns out that without the second cable box, we are unable to receive a very crucial cartoon channel on the downstairs TV. I took this very well, and was careful not to yell at the installer. Because working retail has made me very sympathetic to service people. If you yell at someone for something that they have no control over, they will go home and cry all night and eat lots of chocolate. Just like it's not fair to scream at the pharmacist because your insurance doesn't work, it wouldn't be fair to yell at the cable installer because Brian at the help desk is a silver-tongued flatterer.

I'm not sure what a service person would have to do to make me yell at them, but I think they would have to do something grievous, like spray paint obscenities on my van. And then I would probably ask them nicely not to do it again or I'll be forced to talk to their boss.

But by the end of the day, the nice local cable people had given me a new box. All I had to do was hook it up and call the 800 number to have the people at the help desk activate it. They also had to wipe out the previous owner's parental control PIN number. Since I can't remember my own PIN numbers, I certainly can't be expected to figure out someone else's PIN.

But now I'm a little freaked out about the fact that someone sitting in an office far away can reset the PIN numbers on a cable box in my family room. And even though I know that part of the problem is that I just finished reading 1984, I now remember that when I had a cable box back in days of old, I used to worry that it would be extremely easy for them to hide a camera in one of those things.

In other words, my paranoia goes way back.

Oh I kid. I'm not really that paranoid. Because everybody knows that they really watch you through your microwave.

Will Work for Food. And Digital Cable.

In my effort to wrap up the last post with something clever (and bear in mind that "clever" is often a relative term), I mentioned something about checking to see if I could add more channels to our cable lineup. Because our basic package cuts off at just three channels below Fox News, and that's just not fair.

But really, I just kind of tossed that out there. My reasoning for the bare-bones basic was that we watch too much TV as it is, why add more temptation? And since my children still manage to recite entire Spongebob episodes despite the fact that they can only watch Nickelodeon every six weeks or so a Grandma's, I didn't feel like they were really missing out on much.

I seemed to have forgotten that I can rationalize almost anything. Over the past couple of days I convinced myself that more channels meant that their limited TV time would be spent watching something they truly wanted to watch, not just settling for something just because it's on. You know, quality TV programs. Like, for instance, Spongebob.

The next thing I knew, I was chatting with Brian at the cable company. And Brian was able to put together an extended basic package that costs LESS than what we're paying now. And somewhere between Brian telling me that I sounded so very young on the phone, that I couldn't possibly be more than twenty-five, and setting up the service appointment, I was signed up for digital cable for just five dollars more a month.

Let me tell you, we've got a lot of channels coming.

I went down to tell Theodore the great news. And for the record, Theodore was not exactly standing in the way of the cable upgrade. Because nothing spells excitement for Theodore like watching reruns of PGA tournaments from the 80s on the Golf Channel.

But Theodore hadn't been talking to Brian at the Cable Company. And Brian at the Cable Company hadn't been telling Theodore that he couldn't possibly be older than twenty-five because he sounded so young. So Theodore reminded me that often they give you an introductory rate at first. And just when you've grown accustomed watching things like, say, twenty-four hour golf analysis, they jack the price up. Did I make sure this was not just an introductory rate, he asked.

Um, no. I sort of forgot. But Brian was sooo nice that I'm sure he would have mentioned something if that was the case. Ahem.

So, I told the kids, and there was much rejoicing. Let's hope it lasts.

Always Love Your Country, But Never Trust Your Government

My parents, a couple of Reagan Republicans if there ever were ones, applied his statement that "all great change in America happens at the dinner table" by turning on CNN's Crossfire while we ate. (Saturday was The Capital Gang, and Sunday was 60 Minutes. If I'm feeling homesick, the opening sequence of 60 minutes can make me tear up.) And while I made plenty of cracks about having to listen to old men argue every night during dinner, it helped shape me into the person I am today, not to mention ace every current events quiz during my school career.

So, while most people of my generation felt a pang of nostalgia at the passage of celebrities like Farrah Fawcett, John Hughes, and Michael Jackson, I feel a pang of nostalgia at the passing of CNN commentators.

We haven't had cable news for several years, and there are few network anchors that I can watch without yelling at the television, so I was pretty much out of the loop. I had no idea that Bob Novak had written an autobiography. When I went online and discovered that the library had a copy of his book, I actually thought that I needed to get there right away, since his passing would probably induce a mob of people to rush down and check it out.

Because sometimes I actually forget how weird I really am.

Fortunately, it still had no been checked out by 8:45 last night when I finally got there. I've only read up to the 1960 election, but I like it so far (it's a long book, so I've got a long way to go).

It's been a while since I've read this kind of book, and I had nearly forgotten how much I enjoy reading about political history. Ever since I read The Fitzgeralds and the Kennedys in high school, and incredulously announced to my amused parents that the Kennedys had ties to the Irish Mob, I've been a sucker for the inside story. (I had been exposed enough of the media's breathless "Camelot" remembrances to actually think this tidbit would be NEWS to them).

So, I'll let you know how it goes. Right now I have to figure out how much it would cost to get cable news added to our plan.

To Build a Fire

My sister has informed me that I need to blog.

I aim to please.

It's gratifying to know that she actually wants to hear from me, because I still haven't quite gotten over the time she told me to stop walking through the living room with my hot dog-shaped pillow while her friends were over.

I did send her a text message earlier this summer that supposedly made her laugh so hard she choked on a carrot. That's one achievement the memory of which I will treasure forever.

This week marked the beginning of all the local schools. This means that my poor children have to occupy themselves, rather than relying on he neighborhood children.

Today's project? To build a fire. Peter learned how to start a fire by rubbing sticks together at church camp this year, and he wanted to recreate this bit of wilderness-survival magic for his siblings. He also wanted to see flames in the driveway, but I'm trying to focus on the educational, sharing aspect of it all.

Peter has big dreams of taking Les Stroud's spot on Survivorman someday. But I'm suspicious of his ability of living in the wilderness on nothing but bugs and worms if he won't even eat carrots.

My neighbor thinks that I'm a shockingly lenient parent, so I'm sure the sight of my children trying to start a fire in the driveway just confirmed her suspicions. I'm really not worried, though, because most of my favorite memories of fun times with my cousins involve setting fires in driveways, and we're all productive members of society.

Anyway, despite some promising smoke, the fire never appeared. Camellia wanted to solve the problem by using matches, but I nixed that. Starting a fire by rubbing sticks together is educational. Using matches is delinquency.

But then it started to thunder, so I made them come in.

Because starting a fire in the driveway is one thing, but being outside in a thunderstorm is dangerous.

Just for kicks, to see if I remember my password

Well! How about that.

I took a little break from blogging. Kind of like that one time in 2006 when I took a little break from dieting that has continued to this day.

Anyway.

Since it's taken me twenty minutes to get this far, what with all the wondering how to sum up four months in pithy, interesting paragraphs, I'll give you bullet points. Be forewarned, they're mostly about cleaning and organizing. I'm sorry about that, but I have truly become that boring. Just be glad I was on my blog break on the day I cleaned out the junk drawer in the kitchen.

• After years of swearing that I hated "to-do" lists, I've actually discovered that I ENJOY "to-do" lists. (Don't tell Theodore, because I've been making fun of his lists for the past fifteen years.) The key, apparently, is to make the list realistic. Who knew? So, rather than covering two sheets of paper with things like, "index books with Dewey decimal system" and "clean attic, garage, and all closets," only to feel defeated if I don't get it all done in one day, I put down things that I can actually get done in a day. Revolutionary, I know. Remember, you read it here first, folks.
  
  
• The same holds true for meal planning. I've tried countless meal plans in the past. Here's one that I immortalized in a "Works for Me Wednesday" post. I used it for a total of a month, before tossing it aside. The binder has found a new life holding Peter's Language Arts papers. The problem, it seems, is I would plan a week's worth of things like fried chicken, stuffed pork chops, and a full turkey dinner, only to find myself so exhausted by Wednesday that I was slamming an opened can of beanie weenies on the table and calling it supper.
  
  
• This post is quickly turning into a commercial, because I used the Motivated Moms planner and Mealtime Makeover meal plan. I'm incapable or original solutions, so I must pay others for theirs.
  
  
• We are on Week 3 of school. I have never been this organized at the beginning of the year. (See the first bullet point above.) I've got lessons plans for the first half of the year completely done, and I'm nearly done with all the plans for the second half of the year. Since by February I tend to start thinking that only a special kind of crazy would take on homeschooling, and want to do nothing more than eat chocolate and watch TV adaptations of Victorian novels, I am hoping this helps carry me through.
  
  
• I love binders and 3-hole punches. Someday I hope to find a job where I can print papers, punch holes in them, and put them in binders. It would make me very happy.
  
  
• I found this tutorial via Megan's blog. I am going to make some of these. I think this is the one missing link to my achieving organizational bliss.

Planning

It's that time of year again. Planning for next year. Theodore loves this time, because not only do I follow him around the house espousing the virtues and downfalls of various curricula I'm considering, I also spend lots of money.

This will be my third year with Tapestry of Grace. I feel like I should be handed some sort of prize for sticking with a curriculum three years in a row. I had a chance to look at a friend's copy of Learning Language Arts Through Literature last night, and I didn't even crack the cover. I will not be swayed by the siren song of a new curriculum.

Of course, we're also going to stick with Rod and Staff for grammar. This will be our fifth year with it. I have become a Rod and Staff evangelist, since I've enlisted one friend on the program, and have almost persuaded three more. The kids have never particularly enjoyed Rod and Staff, but have never complained...much. Peter, however, has realized this year that none of his other friends are having to diagram sentences with subordinate clauses and thinks perhaps there might be an easier way to do this. And I just laugh, because I'm cruel that way.

And then there's science. Science is the subject that always causes me the most consternation, which is ironic since that's my background. I had never seriously considered Bob Jones University Press. Since Theodore and I are way more conservative than the rest of the world, so it's a little freaky to discover a publisher that is even more conservative than we are. But I received the books yesterday, and they're so shiny and beautiful and rigorous. It's just what I'm looking for.

Now for the hard part. I have to actually finish THIS year's stuff.

Okay, so I'm a day late

But I finally got around to drawing the winners for What He Must Be...If He Wants to Marry My Daughter.

So, Dy and Rebecca, you win! I'll get the books out to you as soon as I receive them.

Thanks to all for entering.