(N.B. I inadvertently deleted this post [sorry Lizzie!] this a.m. but found it again and got it back up again. So just in case you were wondering what happened. Here it is.)

If you are reading the previous two posts, I thought I should mention that this discussion is centered around cultural story, not individual story. I would not pretend to know or want to know what brought every Christian women with a nose stud to getting one. It is not really important, and it does not get my scivvies in a knot to see it. But on this blog we are often talking to women who are raising young girls and sorting through the issues around that. Speaking for myself, this is out there in the spirit of a lively dinner table discussion, not a secret gossip group behind the school, discerning the heart of people who pass by. So, that said….

So, I sat down to post a quick recipe, but I see something else has been happening here! My mom is off shopping in Spokane for the day, but it appears she popped a hot one off before she went.

While I couldn’t agree more with her original post, after reading the comments, I see that there are a few questions that might need to be expounded on, or explained, or as is quite possible, fueled. So here it is, my very quick drive-by post about the nose rings.

Honestly, I think the whole business of Christian women with nose studs is pretty funny when you get right down to it. Let’s begin by assuming that these women  are not doing it to disfigure themselves. So we can rule that out. They think it is pretty, and just a wee bit edgy, but not so edgy that anyone could pin them down on anything. And perhaps when it bothers some woman in the church (and it probably will), the nose-ringed lady will happily trot out the “My husband likes it, and that is why I have it” trump card. Ha ha, gotcha now, stuffy lady. Read More

So, things just keep splashing along over here at our house. I have four full-time re-arrangers on staff, and let me tell you, they do not slack off. When they are on the job, they really put their minds to it, and use the proverbial elbow grease.The twins have become enamored of doing chores – usually with the laundry, which involves snagging whatever they can reach out of the laundry basket or off the table and charging off to stuff it into something somewhere. They also rearrange their room every time they think about napping. They do this by wildly skooching their cribs around until they can grab hands and work as a team. Sometimes in their aimless wanderings, they chance to pass by the changing table close enough to grab the wet wipes, which I believe they scrapbook about later, with lots of special words like experience and dream in fancy fonts around the pictures.These helpers of mine are so diligent that I have taken to loading the dishwasher in secret. I prepare all the dishes in the sink for quick entry, check to see if anyone is lurking,  crack it open, and start chucking. I don’t know how it is, but one dish-clack in, and I hear a delighted scream and pounding fat feet. They round the corner as I slam it back shut and wipe the sweat from my brow. Often times this is just a half-time break, and I have to go pretend to do something else for a while.This morning my husband was making scrambled eggs, and as he scrambled, this team of efficiency snuck up behind him and took the egg carton off the counter and set it on the floor. We both heard it without hearing it, if you know what I mean. They were moving those eggs as fast as they could out of the carton and throwing them into the sink. Even after he saw it, and tried to stop it, I think they got another three rounds off. Meanwhile, I had to snake the battery out of our kitchen clock for something else, and you would be surprised how much of the time I can believe it is 9:15.