A long while back, I mentioned that I'd been letting my hair grow out, and some of you demanded a picture. I never got around to taking any so I never posted one, but when I downloaded everything off the camera the other day, I realized my husband had taken pictures of me using the reciprocating saw on the fence and they show my hair too. So look -- long hair.

Anne Shirley often talks about the road of life -- sometimes the way seems straight and clear for a bit and then one reaches a bend in the road around which one cannot see. Sometimes the bends take one by surprise and one can never be sure what good or ill lies just beyond view.

Although this will come as a complete surprise to 90% of my readers, there is one more thing, in addition to moving, living in someone else's house, homeschooling, renovating an old house, and fence building, that has kept my mind occupied and my thoughts away from blogging. That one other thing is one of those unexpected bends in the road. If one had suggested just two years ago that my path would take such a turn,I would have told them they were mad. Twelve months ago, I began to imagine that my husband's path might, but I knew that mine never would. And then, just a few months later, my heart began to change. The path I was traveling suddenly curved away, taking me away from much of what I thought I knew and the direction I thought I was going.

I fought the guide at first, then prayed that my path would turn back and away from where I could see it going, then pleaded, "Why me?" In the end, though, I knew the path was true and that I must follow where I must go.

And by now you are all wondering, What is she talking about? What path? What kooky, nutty thing has this woman done now? It's a surprisingly simple thing, and an even more beautiful thing, and yet it is the most complicated, frightening, and difficult thing I've ever done: my family has bid farewell to the church we had followed, without rancor and with great love and admiration for all its members including all of my husband's family, and we will shortly be received into that most ancient, hated, and beloved church, the Catholic Church.

I may blog about this more as time goes on and as life permits. I am neither a debater nor an apologist, although I will be glad to answer friendly questions asked in a spirit of love and friendship. Comments are closed on this post, but you all can find my e-mail address if you need it.

In my family, it is a tradition that when a child starts Kindergarten, they receive a cone filled with toys, school supplies and other goodies. This isn't a tradition special only to us -- it's really a German custom -- but my aunt lived in Germany for about 30 years and so, when her nieces and nephews started heading off to school, she started making cones for them.

I remember getting my cone on the first day of Kindergarten and I still have it (flattened though it may be) packed away in my cedar chest along with my wedding dress and other important paraphernalia. We also have the seven year old's cone, of course. This year we had another Kindergartener and she needed a cone. In order to make sure no one was left out, my aunt also made and filled cones for the other kids.

They were all very pleased. My aunt did inform me though that she had gotten a bit carried away -- in Germany cones are not traditionally as tall as the child going off to Kindergarten (of course, the beginning scholar is rather short...)

For those of you wondering if I'd just stopped taking pictures of the family and/or the Big Purple House, the answer is -- sort of. Mostly I just forget to drag the camera out and when I do take pictures I forget to download them. But finally, I have taken a bunch off the camera and put them up on flickr -- should you all want to see the Adams brood or the big money pit.

I really want to know how to cease the endless stream of conversation from my two year old. Not because my head is going to explode if I don't get a few moments of silence (that happened a long time ago). Nope. This time it is because my two year old has a cold and is losing her voice. You would think from the sounds coming out that talking might be uncomfortable, but she won't stop talking. Not for a second will the narration of every thought and action cease. It hurts to listen to that little scratchy voice, but other than a never ending supply of lollipops, I can't think of any way to stop her mouth.

Ideas?

One of the joys of being a stay-at-home mom who homeschools -- when my husband had to go to Knoxville for work, I decided we should tag along. We had a great time swimming in the hotel pool, finding new and different Knoxville restaurants, visiting the really nice (and free) McClung museum at UT, and the Knoxville Zoo, which has more animals than the Nashville one and a reciprocal agreement for members. We were going to visit the art museum on Tuesday (their free day) before we headed home, but a few of us woke up yesterday with a stomach bug and so we missed out on that.

Still, we had a fun time -- made even better for me -- when I walked into Panera with the kids to buy a snack and I saw the Blogfather himself. I fought an inner battle with my celebrity stalker self and finally decided against rushing up and saying, "Are you really the Puppyblender?" I did get to talk to him though -- my four year old tripped over his laptop bag and I got to apologize. Fortunately, the laptop was not in the bag and so I didn't have to worry about damage to expensive electronic equipment.

All in all, Knoxville was a fun trip and a nice break from the routine, but I could have done without the ending.

Last night we all stayed up far too late trying to see the Perseid meteor shower. I had hoped that we would be able to watch it from the church yard next door, but we're too far into the middle of the city for the stars to show up much, so we bundled the kidlets into the car and took them out to the edge of Nashville where the lights were dimmer.

Unfortunately we were all too tired to stay and enjoy the sights very long. I saw about four shooting stars, the seven year old saw two and my husband caught two out of the corner of his eye. For the best night of viewing that isn't so hot, but it was something and getting out and doing it was fun. It made me want to go camping some time after the weather cools off a bit.

If I can only stay awake today, all will be well.

Why did my four year old have more accidents yesterday than my two year old, who has been wearing underwear for less than a week?

According to experts, my personality type is : Buddhist Monk Other people like me display these traits. They are great kissers They are geeks They are trekkies They go commando Take the Ink Blot Personality Quiz at JokesUnlimited.com

(by way of Diane)

Sometimes I check out a million books at the library and the thing my seven year old reads most is the tattered, dog-eared Lego catalog that his friend passed on to him. Sometimes, I plan out all the good books I want to get at the library and sometimes I walk through the aisles and pull things off the shelves more or less at random (my two year old adding to the randomness and to the amount of books we accidentally check two or three copies of out).

Sometimes the books I think my son will adore are met with stony resistance and absolutely no interest (ahem...Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh) Other times, books I hated become beloved (A Wrinkle in Time).

Once in a while, I pick out something at random that I've never heard of before and my son carries it off to the bathroom and returns 45 minutes later declaring that it is the "best book he's ever read" and that he's revising his Christmas list to include it as his top gift request.

Such a book for my son is The Cat in Numberland. I grabbed it while walking through the math section at the library and my son fell in love. For days I heard, "Thank you for checking this out. I never understood infinity before. I love this book! Can I read it to you?"

The story takes place in a hotel that is at once always full and always has room for one more. It introduces a lot of mathematical ideas in a way that kids can grasp and makes math (another thing I never liked that my son seems to enjoy) fun.

Other than trying to fit all the things that need doing in a 24 hour period into that amount a time and generally falling short of one or another of my goals, I really didn't have that much going on in my life -- so the two year old finally decided to act on my suggestions that she might consider using the toilet (right after I'd just bought a bunch of diapers, naturally) and came down from her nap wearing underwear a few days ago.

She's doing great as far as the liquid end of things goes, but as for the solids -- well, she's put it in the designated receptacle once and otherwise, I've had a lot of messes to clean up. This is what I hate most about potty-training.

Well, that or when I caught her hands in the toilet up to the elbows manually trying to flush down some paper that hadn't made it all the way down. I try not to be too squeamish, but that was a sight I never want to see again.

I perfectly capable of talking, yelling, singing and all those things. Laryngitis hasn't gotten me down. Yet, some how over the past few weeks (or maybe more) I haven't felt like I had much to talk about.

Or maybe I have so much to talk and type about that I can't get any of it out. I haven't planned to go away and disappear into the world of dead blogs (like some people), but I'm finding it difficult to write anything at the moment.

If anyone has any suggestions or would like to be a guest blogger over here now and again, I would love to revive the place.