Austin's Job interview went well, he says. But if he gets offered the job, he probably won't take it.

The job is being offered through a temp agency, and because of the contract with the temp agency, they will have to hire the person for the position, not Sandoz. Which means Austin would have to be terminated at Sandoz and hired by the temp agency. Which means a disruption in insurance, no vacation, no other paid time off, and if he gets terminated before the end of the year, he looses his bonus, too.

Thing is, there are several good things about the job. It would be a day shift, for one. It would be so very nice to have him home at nights.
It would pay abou $5.00 and hour more, another $10,000 a year. It would be using his degree and a would be a job that he would like much more than the one he has now, (Not that he hates his job, by any means. He could just do so much more, use his brain more, and be more challenged.)

And we could deal with not PTO, we could ask them not to terminate hiim until after January 1. But the insurance. The temp agency will have their own insurance. Chances are Doctor Watson's office would accept it, but if they didn't, well, honestly, I'm not changing doctors. I don't feel its an option. Often there is a waiting period. And being without insurance at any time between now and when the baby is born is a bad idea.

Austin wondered if he should take the job on Faith that God will provide. After all, we had no maternity insurance when we got pregnant with Stephen. And Austin was working part time, there was no way we could afford a baby. But we took it all on faith. In fact, Stephen was a test of faith from beginning to end. He still is, in some ways. And God provided. And I was, and am, grateful. However, I also believe that God requires of us that we use our minds, and make good decisions, and be aware of and thankful for the gifts we have been given.

It's like the joke about the guy who heard a flood was coming to his home town. The governor gave a radio address, saying that everyone needed to evacuate. The man didn't, praying to God and saying He would save him. The floods came, and they were bad. The man was forced to retreat to the roof of his house, and was sitting there when a rescue boat came by. He refused the ride, saying that he has been praying to God and that HE will save him. A helicopter came by after a while, to get the man, and he again refused, saying that he had been praying, and that God would save him. When he drowned and ended up at the Pearly Gates, then, he was surprised, and asked God 'I prayed and prayed and prayed!!! Didn't you hear?!?!? Why didn't you answer my prayers????" To which God replied, "I send you a radio annoucement, a rescue boat, and a helicopter! What else did you want?"

I believe it is entirely possible that God sent me to Doctor Watson. I believe He did. On the St. Anthoy North website, in his "bio", he says he is "honored to work in a faith-driven environment." I like that. And I like him. And Austin has no desire to go elsewhere, either. So maybe this isn't a test, this time. Or maybe its a test of prioritites. Certainly, more money would make things easier, especially as far as getting out of debt. And having Austin home at night would make it easier (and cheaper) to keep our relationship strong and committed (not that we are having trouble at all). But right now, the health of Michael must come first. Or perhaps a test of faith in where God is leading Austin in his job.

At least now they know Austin over in that department. And who he is, and that he is interested and able and smart and qualified. Something could still come of it. We shall see

So, I've had this constant and rather unpleasant round ligament pain since Sunday.  It has been making me walk funny.  Thing about this particular ligament, while the stretching is normal and natural and has to happen, it's hard to find an exercise that eases the stretching discomfort.

So I thought I would try yoga.  Monday, it worked during the yoga, but came back later.  Tuesday I fell asleep before I could do the yoga.  (*Sigh*).  But yesterday....last night I did the prenatal yoga, and tried to stretch a little more, breathe a little deeper, concentrate a little harder.  And it eased the pain.  All night.  And this morning, it's still gone.  It might come back, but now I know how to help it.

I'm so very, very thankful for the yoga. 

In other random thoughts...the other night, I was looking at the picture we have on our wall of Austin and I holding Stephen at the hospital.  It is in the frame that everyone signed at his baby shower.  I honestly have no desire to have a shower for this child.  (I have a feeling the church might want to give me one, but I am going to insist that it be done after the baby is born. Which will be more of a "Welcome to the world party", or a "Happy Birth Day Party". And that is fine.  If they really want to, and approach me about it.) But then, if this child is anything like his or her mother, sooner or later they will wonder why no one was excited to meet them, only Stephen.  "Mommy, how come no one wanted to meet me??" 

So, I talked it over with my Mom, and here is what we are thinking right now.  After our baby is born, we are going to ask people (if the want) to send him or her a card, saying happy birth day or we are happy you are here or nice to meet you or whatever.  And then I'll make a scrabbook of the  cards.  (Sometime before the child is old enough to read it...) That way, they can look at it and remember people, and it might help them know their relatives that live further away, and have a keepsake of the day they were born.  I thought it might be neat.  And something just for them.

Ok.  Off to get some water.

Dr. Watson just called me.  He's our OB.  It made me a little nervous that it was Dr. Watson instead of a nurse, I figure it has to be bad news.

I don't think it is. 

We had our Quad screen done at our last appointment, which was last Thursday.  They take my blood and run four separate tests for possible genetic abnormalities based on things secreted by the baby.  He called with results.  They take the results from all the tests, and factor in other things like age, and come up with a number, which is supposed to indicate the chances of there being things like Down's Syndrome, Neural Tube Defects, Brain or spinal issues, or Trisomy 18.  Thing is, my age is always going to skew the number to higher risk.  I understand that.  He said that the one test he was the most concerned with was the AFP test, which is for brain and spine issues and neural tube defects.  He said that one is completely normal, which is good.  But when you add in the composite score with my age, I am at a higher risk.

But really.  There is no surprise there.

He also said that with my first trimester screening, which came back good an normal, that he doesn't see any cause for concern.  I could get an amniocentesis, which is much more sensitive than the tests I've had so far, but we don't want to do that because of the risk to the baby.

So, I think he called so that he could explain it all to me, and to reassure me, rather than someone just calling to give me a number that might make me worry. 

And so...onward.  Like there was any other choice.  And I am not going to worry.  I couldn't change the outcome anyhow, and so I rely on God.

This is stemming from a show Austin and I watched on TV last night.


Imagine that you have a family member who was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death for a murder.  He has had all his appeals, he has still been found guilty.  The sentence is carried out.  And then you discover new evidence that leads to the real killer.  Someone who was part of his life, like a friend or a boss.

Could you charge, try, convict the real killer for murder of your family member?  If he knew all along that he was the guilty one, that your family was put to death for it, and he let it happen, knowing of the convicted man's innocence?  Could you make a case?

My dreams have turned episodic.

Last night, the dream took place in a very posh hotel in a resort-type location somewhere.  There was more than one elevator in the building, but one of them was special.  See, a lot of people that got into the elevator never got to the floor for which they were headed.  And most (but not all) were never seen again.

It seems this particular elevator took people to places found in their dreams.  Usually their bad ones.  Somehow, the elevator tapped into your subconscious and created a world based on imagas it found there.  And it would take people in the elevator to the worlds their minds had constructed.  Some were obvious nightmarish images, where others were only nightmarish to the person whose mind constructed it.

And so, my dreams last night consisted of the elevator picking up a person, taking them to the world of their dreams instead of their floor, and me waking up.  And (after getting up to pee) going back to sleep and watching the elevator pick up another person and go to another world.

It didn't alway hijack the person or people in the elevator.  Sometimes it took them where they were really wanting to go. There didn't seem to be a pattern.  I don't actually remember any of the places the elevator went.  But the last one...

The last one was a kid, about 14 years old, and he had been thinking of his mother.  She had died when he was very young, and he missed her very much, and often wished and dreamed that she hadn't died, that she was still alive and his mother.  And then he got into the elevator.  And you knew he was going to a world to live an existence where his mother hadn't died, where she had lived, just like he wanted.  Thing is, you also knew, for certain, that it could be either very, very good, or very, very bad.  But you didn't know which.  And just when the elevator doors were about to open, the credits ran.

No.  Really.  My brain ran credits.  It's never done that before.  But it ran them across the elevator doors.  And the story was, evidently, based on a book.  It was called "The Elevator People".

It was odd.  And left me....unrested.  And I would like a nap, but I am at work.  Also, I don't know where the elevator would take me.

Abby and I went out to Cold Stone last night to celebrate being done with Jedi Costumes.  Also because Cold Stone is yummy, and any excuse to go is a good excuse to go.  And it was fun. And you know what she did?  She bought me a copy of the prenatal yoga program, so I can do it at home!  I'm so excited!  I'm going to do it tonight, I hope it will help with my lower back and my left ankle, which at the moment seem a bit out of whack.  Yippee!!


Heavenly Father:  I am getting tired of feeling sick in my stomach.  My request is not to get rid of the feeling, but rather help me to not be tired of it, help me to be able to deal with it in thankfulness and grace until it is no longer necessary.  Thank you.

I had her for 20 years.  Almost every day for 20 years, that cat has met me at the door when I got home, to tell me hello, and that she missed me, and that she loves me, and PLEASE PET ME NOW!!  For 20 years, I have picked her up, scratched her ears, told her I love her, asked her how her day was.  I think her answer usually was..."You LEFT me.  AGAIN."

On Saturday, Austin and I had planned on going for a hike, then up to Idaho Springs for lunch, then some errands, and some other plans. But first, he had to run to work to pick up something he left there that he needed, and I was going to run to the fabric store to pick up a couple things that I needed.  He left first, and on my way around the house I checked on Kitty.  We have fallen into this habit.  I make sure she's alive and okay when I wake up, Austin does it when she sits too still for too long.  She was laying in her spot under the table in a very odd position, I called her, she didn't respond.  Not one little bit.  I thought she was dead then.  I got down on the floor to her, and petted and and talked to her.  She was still alive, her heart was beating very strongly, but her breaths were sporatic and labored.  And she was completely unresponsive....her eyes had no recognition.  I texted Austin.  And then I lay there and petted her and talked to her, I thought I heard her try to purr.  She tried to miaow once.

When Austin got home, He got down there with me.  We wondered if maybe she had a stroke or something.  We thought maybe she was suffering, and didn't know how long she would stay in that condition, so he got up to look up the humane society, or a vet, that would be open and would put her out of her misery.  In preparation for leaving the house,  I lifted her very carefully, as there was no real muscle control, and wrapped her in the closest scrap I had handy that would work, which happened to be a piece of suede from the Jedi Shirts.  (Soft side in, of course)  I picked her up and held her close.  And she purred.  And I wasn't imagining it, Austin heard it too.  And then, there was the final muscle spasm, and her paw reached out and flexed......and then she was gone.

We buried her in my parents corral, and put heavy pieces of wood over the grave so nothing would dig her up.  Then later my and I were fitting my dress for the wedding.  My Dad, who didn't ever used to be prone to such sentiment, especially when it comes to animals, went out to see the grave.....but only when he thought no one was looking. 

Kitty hated not using the little box.  She would be outside, and come inside, go straight to the litter box, use it, and go right back outside again.  So in the past few weeks, when she started not using the litter box, we knew she wouldn't be here much longer.  She couldn't jump real well any more, her back legs just didn't work, so I kept my sewing box by the couch so she could still get up there to sleep.

I'll be honest....there were times when she was downright annoying.  Her death hasn't blinded me to that.  I can now get the urine smell out of my house.  I can clean up all the cat hair, and wash the curtains, and there won't be any more cat vomit, or vomiting cat to throw outside.  She won't wake me in the middle of the night any more (although she hadn't done that for a while now), and we don't have to close all the doors to the rooms just to keep her from pooping in them.  I won't trip over her any more, or have to keep her out of the kitchen when we are cooking.  And none of that matters right now, I'm going to miss her.  I'm going to miss her delight in getting milk and cheese, her happiness when we shared the ice cream, her pure joy when I gave her the water from the tuna can, sharing my cereal milk with her in the morning.  I'm going to miss her curling up on my chest, reaching out to stop my hand when I thought I was done petting her but I guess I really wasn't, her pretending not to be interested in playing and being disgruntled with herself when she got caught.  I'm going miss hearing her purr.

But mostly, I'm going miss hearing her miaow through the door when I walk up to my home.  I'm going to miss her meeting me at the door when I open it to tell me she loves me.  I'm going to miss picking her up and scratching her ears.

The house tonight, when I get home, is going to be very, very empty.

I took a page from Laura's book and decided to try shifting to 5th gear sooner in my car, to see what it would to do the gas mileage.  My little car is rated for about 27 MPG, although I saw ratings for 23 MPG City and 33 MPG Highway.  With my hypermiling, I regularly get between 30 and 31 MPG City driving.  With shifing to 5th sooner, I got 32.3 MPG.  Its an extra 1 to 1.5 MPG more, and I think if I am more diligent, I can get more out of it. 

Saturday during the day I spent cutting costume pieces.  I cut the women's tabards, although they are single sided and the men's are double sided, and I am not sure how much of a difference this will make.  While I have some extra, I do not have enough to double-side all the women's tabard pieces.  I'm not sure if it matters or what to do about it.  I got the men's dickeys cut out, and the women's gauntlets.  I also got the men's and women's belts cut.  The men's are too big, but I did that on purpose, as they are very easy to cut down and it didn't really hurt anything fabric-wise.  Tonight I am going to mom's to check out the mock up for my dress, if it fits, we will start cutting the dresses.

We went to church Saturday night, which was fun and different.  Although we sat in back which was very hot, and everyone was wearing something that had an odor to it, so there was a cacaphony of smells that was a little hard to deal with in the heat.  We then went out for ice cream (which was not at all an original idea) and then over to the Obrechts to watch the Broncos loose and discuss seaonal predictions.  (Mike and I both pick the Broncos to go 4 and 12 this season, unlike the guy I heard on the radio, who said they would go 11 and 1.  Yes.  He said 11 and one.)

Sunday, up early, early to meet Dave and Leslie for breakfast, then grocery shopping then....off to the Rockies game.  Oh, it was a good game!  Our seats were out of direct sunlight, which was good, as I am not sure I would have been able to deal with direct sunlight....it was 94 degrees at the end of the game.  Rockies beat the Giants, Cubs beat the Dodgers, and if we beat the Giants again today we will be in fantastic shape for the wild card.  Well.  For now!  After the game was a Mercy Me concert.  It was beautiful, actually.  I think about half of the 48,000+ people there for the game stayed for the concert. There's just something about 24,000 people singing Amazing Grace that gave me chills.   They had a video of some of the Rockies players talking about their faith, which was neat.  The music and the concert was very peaceful, I'm so glad I was there.  But, at the end of the concert my head was pounding, and not from the sound.  By that point, I was way, way way too hot, in spite of the 2+ litres of water I drank. 

So by the time we got to the Vintons, my head was hurting quite a lot.  I continued to drink water, and it was fun to hang out with just the Vintons, as no one else was there, but I didn't enjoy it as much as I might.  When we got home, I took a shower but it didn't help, so I went to bed, only to wake up with what I can only say was a shooting pain going back from my eyes through my brain....it was making me blurry, all I could think about was Tylenol, and we couldn't find any, (I was no help, opening my eyes hurt) so my wonderful, wonderful, wonderful husband went to King Soopers (after carefully putting me back into bed, it hurt to move) and got some Tylenol.  When I woke up 3.5 hours later, the headache was gone.

I love him.

I am drinking a lot of water today, more than usual, and am going to stay out of the heat for a while.    Next weekend, we are supposed to take a group of Youth Group teens to the Rapids game with a concert after.  I hope it's cooler. 

Hope you all had a good weekend.

"The Prayer Perfect"

Dear Lord! Kind Lord!
Gracious Lord! I pray
Thou wilt look on all I love,
Tenderly to-day!
Weed their hearts of weariness;
Scatter every care
Down a wake of angel-wings
Winnowing the air.

Bring unto the sorrowing
All release from pain;
Let the lips of laughter
Overflow again:
And with all the needy
O divide, I pray,
This vast treasure of content
That is mine to-day!"


In memory of
Carol Ratz
May 22, 1929-July 25, 2009

Thank you, Carol.  We all loved you. 

Has anyone started talking about throwing a baby shower for Abby?  I assume she wants one? Is it too early?  I just don't want this to get forgotten about.