Category Archives: Blog

2008 in Posts


I contemplated fresh starts.

I experimented with a a new departure in flavorings. (My famous chicken tortilla chai soup recipe. Mm mm bleck.)

Then it was time to Journey North again!



I finished crocheting a sweater, almost. (Never did put the buttons on. Rilla won't wear it, anyway. No ladybugs on it.)

Wonderboy got glasses.

We had bad days and good ones.



I sang out loud in the grocery store.

John Stilgoe knocked my socks off and got me contemplating how Way Leads on to Way and how Every Face I Look at Seems Beautiful.



In a word: Barcelona! Barcelona! Barcelona!



I contemplated my Mother's Days and celebrated 14 years with That Cute Boy.

I got very wordy about houseplants. Twice.



Scott battled a fearsome beast in our laundry room. I read about the epic fight on IM.

I explained my Doctor Roster.



My big girls went to Colorado for a week.

We were happy to get them back again.

Then we ditched them for the San Diego Comic-Con. (Scott had to: it's his job. Me? I tagged along for the photo ops.)



We started the 100 Species Challenge.
(And though we've not kept up the blogging-it part, we've done really
well with the species ID part! I think we're in the 60s now.)

I had a little hospital adventure.



I made curtains! (I didn't say I made them well.)

We kept on learning new stuff about our sweet Wonderboy.



I celebrated the San Diego autumn and small happinesses. And more autumn, and more happinesses. (About that sourdough starter, though? Epic fail.)



My parents came to visit, and we enjoyed a fabulous week of exploring SoCal with the big girls.



'Twas a month of Twittered moments, and birthdays, and sewing, and books, and Advent moments both magical and mucky.


And now it's 2009, and we're about to make another fresh start.

Lilypie Expecting a baby Ticker

A Question

…for those of you who are reading and commenting at this blog instead of the WordPress one. Believe it or not, I’m still trying to sort out the bloggy glitches that sprang up in August and caused me to start cross-posting at this (Typepad) site again.

If you are reading here at Typepad (and if you’re seeing this post, it means you are reading the Typepad blog, because I’m not posting it on the WordPress one), do you do so because:

…you like the Typepad site better than the WordPress one? (And if so, why? Faster page load?)

…when you click through from your feed reader to leave a comment, this is where you land? (And if so, any idea which feed you’re subscribed to? Does the feed URL have "feedburner" in it?)

…you never changed your bookmark when I switched to WordPress last March?

…you switched back here because you couldn’t access the WordPress site anymore?

…another reason?

Thanks for your input. I’m grappling with whether it’s a bad idea to have my comments split between two blog sites, and should I just link to new (WordPress) posts here, or do enough people find the WordPress site a pain that it’s worth my continuing to double-post each new entry both here and over there.

Please Check Your Subscriptions

Half my subscribers (to the WordPress feed) seem to have been unsubbed.

Among the half remaining, a bunch of you are being redirected to this site by the feed instead of the WordPress site. If you wouldn’t mind popping over there and resubbing, I’d be ever so grateful. Thanks.

All I can say is ARGH. And sorry for the inconvenience.

If You Can’t Access My Main Site

…it’s because your IP address is being blocked, for some mysterious reason. I’m talking about the WordPress site I moved Bonny Glen to last March. During the past week, I’ve heard from several readers that they are suddenly unable to load that site. (Anything at, including, where the blog is.)

If you, too, are unable to load that site, please let me know. I can send your IP address to my web person and have you unblocked. (You can look up your IP address at

In the meantime, I have started double-posting new posts both here (at Typepad) and there (at WordPress). Most of the comments discussion is still occurring over there, and that’s where I would like it to be, so if you can access that site, please do click through and join the conversation there. (If you can’t load the page, of course you are welcome to continue commenting here!)

This site you’re reading now,, is missing my past six months’ worth of posts—everything I’ve written since March, 2008, when I transferred the blog to WordPress. As I said, I’ve just begun double-posting new material here now (as of mid-August) as a backup for people having trouble with the WordPress site. I hate to confuse people by maintaining two identical (or nearly identical) blogs, but for now I think it’s the best plan.

And before I go, just out of curiosity, I’d love to hear how you happened to find this post! Are you still subscribed to my old feed (Typepad) and it popped up in your reader? Or do you still visit this site from time to time?

Thanks for the input!

The New Website Is Up!

When I moved to San Diego and switched ISPs, I lost my old website. It took a while to get the new one up and running, but at long last I am happy to announce I’m all settled in at:


Bonny Glen is taking up residence at the new quarters.

If you are a feed subscriber, you don’t have to change a thing: the feed has already been updated. (Which means you won’t be seeing this message.)

To update my blog URL in your blogroll, please use

This move has been a long time in the making! I hope you’ll enjoy the fresh new look. (Not too new for the blog: I wanted it to stay in keeping with this one.)

This blog here, the Typepad one, will stay intact—archives, sidebars, comments, and all—so as not to mess up incoming links.

Thanks for travelling with me!

Hello, Lilting House Readers

As I announced at Lilting House today, I’m retiring from that blog and shifting back to posting all my content here at Bonny Glen. All the Lilting House posts I’ve written can be accessed at the new Lilting House Archive.

Lilting House itself will remain up through the end of the year. Comments are open on all posts in the archive, and I’ll be continuing various Lilting House review series right here at Bonny Glen. I’m excited to have everything all in one place again. Um, that is, everything except for the breadbaking posts and our daily learning notes.

If you’ve been a Lilting House reader, thank you so much for your support. I hope you’ll stick around…there is much to discuss here!

Oh, one more note—if you have linked to a Lilting House post and would like to update the URL (since all current Lilting House permalinks will become broken after the first of the year), here’s how to do it. If the permalink looks like this— my-rule-of-six.html

—simply replace the part of the URL


so that the URL reads:

That URL should take you to the correct post. The dates need to remain the same. Email me if you have trouble!

Reflecting Upon Nice

I’ve been thinking about being nice.

Wait, that didn’t sound right. I mean, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be nice.

Two very kind blog friends* have given me a Nice Matters Award:  Margaret Mary Myers and Michele Quigley (who knows me by my married name, not just my pen name, as you’ll see on her list). Both of them are awfully nice to have included me among such stellar company. Go look at their lists and you’ll see what I mean. Some of my favorite women on the internet (and in real life!) are included there.


And so of course this got me thinking about whether I’m as nice as those other wonderful women. If someone named me for a Well-Organized Woman award, or a Punctuality award, or a Never Gets Cranky award, I’d have to decline on grounds of honesty (after I picked myself up off the floor from laughing so hard).

But nice? You know, I really do agree with the sentiment behind this award. Nice does matter. Just ask my children; I have been known to holler about not caring whether they grow up to be smart or rich or good-looking as long as they are nice people. "DO YOU HEAR MEEEE??? JUST BE NICE TO EACH OTHER!! BEEE NIIIIIICE!!!!!!!!" (Thus do I qualify myself for the "Do As I Say, Not as I Do" Award. Heh.)

OK, so maybe that’s a lesson better modeled than screeched. I try to be nice, really I do. Sometimes being nice can get complicated, though.

There’s a Carole King song called "Child of Mine" which I’ve loved since Jane was a baby, but there was one line that always bugged me. "I know you will be honest if you can’t always be kind." When I crooned that song to wee Jane, I used to change the lyric to "I know you will be honest, but you also will be kind"—clunky, yes, but it scans.

I’ve been thinking about that line a lot lately, about the sometimes thorny marriage of honesty and kindness. Sometimes being honest doesn’t seem very kind. The kids and I watched an Andy Griffith Show episode the other day, in which the town drunk was turned on to mosaic art by an earnest young deputy, and his newfound passion for making pictures became a magical detox program—until the former drunk presented Andy with a perfectly dreadful picture to hang over the fireplace, and later found out Andy had hidden it in the closet as soon as they guy left.

It would have been kinder of Andy to leave that picture over the mantel, but the truth was he hated looking at it.

Of course the punch line of the episode was that the guy went back on the sauce—and began creating perfectly marvelous mosaics under the influence. But that’s not relevant to my train of thought here. I’ve just been pondering, as I said, what it means to be nice, and where that intersects with honesty.

Sometimes being nice means keeping your opinions to yourself. ("Those are the ugliest shoes I’ve ever seen.")

Sometimes it means speaking up in the face of injustice, even if you have to tell a friend a hard truth.

I guess what "nice" really means is playing fair, which is another way of saying "observe the Golden Rule." Doing unto others as I’d like them to do unto me sometimes means speaking up when there’s a problem. If I’m screwing up or hurting someone, I’d like to be made aware of it (gently), so I can put things right.

As hard as it can be to be the person being corrected, I think it can be even harder to be the one doing the correcting. There’s such an inner wrestling match involved in the process of discerning whether the little voice that urges you to speak out is the voice of conscience (to be obeyed) or pride (to be slapped down). When do you turn the other cheek, and when do you take up a cause?

I guess it depends on whose cheek, whose cause. We’re supposed to turn our own cheek, and seek to right wrongs committed against others. But that’s hard, too, both of those things, for lots of reasons and in lots of ways.

Maybe the lyric should be: "I know you will be honest, and you’ll try darn hard to be kind."

It doesn’t scan, but it speaks more to the point.

Because I do try to be nice, I find it impossible to name other deserving people for the Nice Matters award. There are too, too many of you out there who are far nicer than I am. I fear that if I start naming names, the people I leave out (for lack of space) will be hurt, and that wouldn’t be nice.

Actually, for that very same reason I ditched my blogroll this morning. It was long out of date, and when I started trying to catch it up I realized it was going to be pages and pages long, and still I’d probably miss someone I meant to include. So I scrapped it altogether. There are a few other link lists still lingering in my sidebar, but those, too, are out of date and incomplete. I’ll think about them another day. Sidebars don’t matter so much anymore anyway, now that most blog-readers are subscribed to a feed.

Anyway, Michele and Margaret Mary, thanks so much for the award. I’ll try darn hard to deserve it. I will certainly continue to reflect upon what it means, which I guess means I definitely qualify for the other blog award I was granted recently: the Blogger Reflection Award, compliments of two extremely nice blog friends: Elena and Alice Cantrell.


Thank you both. I do love a nice reflection.

*Make that three! It seems Christine nominated me for the Nice Matters award this very morning, before she read my post! Thank you so much, Christine. So nice!