I've Been Busy...How 'Bout You?

I don't flatter myself that many of my blog's followers eagerly check each day to see if I have a new post up. But at the same time, one (or two) of you may have noticed that there's been a sad dearth of posts lately. This post is a brief explanation of my silence.

What can I possibly have been spending my time doing besides blogging?

Well, first off, my husband and I are working on starting an elementary school for this coming September. It's called Paideia Classical Christian School and will be located here in Oregon City. I'm enjoying doing all the admin work to get it set up. Hopefully, this will be the school that my boys go to some day!

Second, I've been very, very busy with editing work at Madison Street Publishing. We are releasing a new book in April by Scott D. Southard titled A Jane Austen Daydream. It's off at the proofreader's right now, so I have a little bit of a break before I move onto the next step in the publishing process.

I've also begun editing another book called Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors. It's a compilation of essays from the EHFA blog that I write for, put together by Debra Brown.

Third, I've been taking care of three little munchkins! Marcus turned one at the end of January, is walking (and almost running), and is very eager to climb on all the furniture. We took him into the ER a couple days ago for a possible broken arm after falling from a chair. False alarm.

The twins are almost two and a half and are beginning to doubt the importance of the afternoon nap ritual. We had a short-lived attempt at potty training two weeks ago that will have to be repeated sometime in the (distant) future.

David, it could be argued, has been even busier than me. He's going to school full time, working as a janitor 15-20 hours a week, and interning at the capitol in Salem 15-20 hours a week. He's also trying to finish up writing his book about his adventures as a panhandler last summer. We see him...sometimes. Usually on Sundays.

So, all this is to say that I've been busy. Too busy to blog. How 'bout you?

The Stocking Stuffer Debacle

It's pretty easy to buy stocking stuffers for little boys--candy, Hot Wheels, train stickers, socks. The hard part comes when you have to buy stocking stuffers for the husband. This year, I bought a few things on-line, but my main plan was to stick a bottle of Jameson in the top of his stocking. That takes up a lot of room, right? Problem solved. Mischief managed.

Yesterday afternoon, my husband came home from work and I heard, from the other room, the sounds of the liquor cabinet opening. "Did you go to the liquor store?" I asked, a little apprehensive.

"Yes, I just got a bottle of Jameson."

"Oh." That was a bit of an upset. Everyone knows you're not supposed to buy ANYTHING for yourself around Christmastime, just in case somebody is already planning to gift it to you. I decided to admit my disappointment to the world. "I was going to buy a bottle of Jameson for your stocking."

"Oh. Sorry. But you know I only have so much time to drink during my school break, so I need to get started right away." An amusing statement, but a true one. My husband attends a Quaker university, and has signed (and actually observes) a pledge that doesn't allow him to consume alcohol during the semester.

"OK, I guess I'll have to think of something else for your stocking."

I made dinner that night--worthy of mention because it doesn't happen all the time. Unfortunately, I decided to fry something in oil, a process which I both hate and am not very good at. Ergo, dinner was burnt. Ergo, I felt like a failure as a cook, a wife, a mother, and a person.

My husband tried his best to console me--"It wasn't as bad as when the nachos caught on fire last week."--but somehow, my spirits failed to lift. At last he said, "Do you have any tonic water?"

"Yes, why?"

"I bought you a bottle of gin for your stocking, but it sounds like you might need it now."

What a wonderful man! And in other news, it looks like we're both out of ideas for stocking stuffers.... Back to the drawing board.

The Book inside Each of Us

"There's a book inside each of us." 

I'm not sure if this statement applies universally, but I know that with my husband and me, it certainly rings true. The interesting thing about it is how different each of our internal books happen to be.

The book inside of me is centuries old and half a world away. It comes complete with chain mail, catapults, famine, foes, visions, intrigue, and a love triangle or two.

The book inside of my husband deals with something far more modern. It involves statistics, graphs, personal anecdotes, and eighty hours of fieldwork at a nearby freeway exit ramp.

My book: a tale of the First Crusade.

His book: an economic case study on the profitability of panhandling.

Here's to hoping that both books gestate by the end of the year! Here's to hoping that one or both of them becomes a bestseller! Because the one thing I don't want my husband's fieldwork to prove is that there's more money to be made in panhandling than there is in writing books.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

The last seven days have been as busy as a barbershop on Saturday morning. They have also been bereft of any communication between myself and the Internet. I came home today to 157 e-mails, dozens of Facebook notifications, and a ream of blog posts to read through. Having caught up on those things with as much thoroughness as can be reasonably expected, I'm now ready to write my own blog post about all the happenings of the past week.

Sunday morning, we woke the twins early and left the house by 7:30am to head up north for my sister-in-law Jessica's college graduation. Jessica now has a degree in early elementary education. She is moving to our neck of the woods for the summer and looking for a teaching job down here so she can stay on through the school year. I'm hoping that she finds the perfect job to keep her in the Portland area!

Jessica and my three other sister-in-laws: Amy, Rebecca, and Nancy

After the graduation we enjoyed a wonderful celebration at the Ives' home. Since all of the Spears family was there, it was a good time to snap a family picture.

Right before we left Jessica's party, David and I shared our big news: baby number 3 is on the way! Or is it babies 3 and 4? Twins again? I should probably schedule an ultrasound.... Approximate due date is January 31, 2012.

It was almost 10pm when we got home Sunday night, with two very cranky little boys. But there was no sleeping in the next day--we got up early again and loaded up the cars to go to the beach for our annual church camp at Twin Rocks Friends Camp in Rockaway, OR.

Yes, I did say "cars," plural. Now that we are a gigantic family of four (soon to be five), we can no longer fit all of our vacation gear into one vehicle. Two cars gave us enough room to bring down the twins' Exersaucers, which made life at camp much happier for both them and us.

Oliver and Adam scrutinize a daisy - "Is it edible?"

Going to camp with children was an entirely different experience than going as just a couple. But thanks to all the help we got from family and friends, it wasn't horribly difficult. Probably the best part about our time was watching the twins enjoy new experiences in the great outdoors.

Oliver blows bubbles in the sun

Adam adores Auntie Jessica

The Pacific Ocean was one such new experience. Oliver was quite fond of wading in the frigid water. Adam, not so much.

David, Oliver, and the Twin Rocks in the background

We had a marvelous vacation, but now we're back to real life and all that entails--catching up on a week's worth of laundry, childproofing electrical outlets, painting the kitchen, and starting the manuscript for Book Two of The Chronicles of Tancred.

* * *

Many thanks to Auntie Amy for all these great pictures. I like to think that the reason we didn't take any photos ourselves is because we were too busy taking care of our kids the whole week--but it might be more accurate to just call us lazy. Oh well....

Blood Work and Boxes

A guest post by the David Spears so a mother can get some rest before the big day. 

Due to the great swell of support and prayers we have received for Adam, we thought it best to keep those praying updated. The support has become a great anchor for us in these very rough seas. It is an even greater comfort knowing that the anchor firmly rests on the Rock of Christ.  

There is no mistaking the seas are raging with all the uncertainty life can bring. The house that could become our greatest economical advantage, the house that will be my sons’ home, finally cleared its last hurdles. It was a close thing; the closing came down to a two hour window where the whole deal could have collapsed. I turned in so many “one last thing(s)” that I began to think people forgot what the word “last” meant. I also had to pay $1200 dollars extra due to “oops” in the paper work. In fact, not a single date/timeline was achieved in the whole process until time ran out. Fully expecting to miss the last deadline as well, we registered the title with half an hour left by my watch. It was a close thing.

The support I mentioned has been more than just prayers. By my guess about twenty or thirty people showed up to move my family to our new home last Saturday. It was very humbling and amazing. We had only one day to move due to my school term starting today and Adam’s surgery starting tomorrow. Saturday was the only day to move, and what a move it was. There was almost too much help. The Lord answered our prayers not abstractly but with a strong vibrant church that came out to help us when we needed it the most. To those who know who they are, thanks.  

As important as this home is for my family’s future, it is just a material thing. It is wood and concrete. It pales in comparison to the importance and value of my son Adam. It is an afterthought when I think of the uncertainty Adam faces. Just this week Rose took Adam to three different hospitals in one day to search for answers.  Adam, just his name reminds me of how familiar death is to me. Death and I are definitely no strangers and I cannot pretend “everything will be fine” when I know it is not always so.  The seas are definitely raging and the storm is all around.  Adam has started his liquid diet and soon will be off even that to prepare for his surgery. It is a hard thing to starve a little baby in order to do what is best for him. Yet this is what Christ did for us, He died so we can live. Death, while familiar, is not something I fear anymore. Christ has Adam's future in His care just as much as he did the very first Adam. The Lord can use the surgeons to answer our prayers just as easily as He provided so many helping hands to move us into our new house. My family rests firmly on the Rock that is Christ and we thank you all for your prayers. 

As of right now Adam is scheduled for a 10:30 am surgery tomorrow morning.     

    

Milestones

"How many Kindle copies have we sold?" I get this question from my husband several times a day: in the morning when he wakes up, in the afternoon when he comes home from classes, in the evening when he texts me on his work break. The number of Kindle copies sold--it is a number my husband is particularly fond of, especially when it is plugged into a line graph. At the beginning of each month he reminds me to update our book sales graph with the data from the month before. He uses the graph as the desktop wallpaper on his laptop and as an incentive to continue marketing I Serve.

This weekend we celebrated some important numbers (and not all of them on Kindle sales).

One thousand: the number of Kindle copies of I Serve that we've sold this year. Since putting the book in electronic format in January, we have watched the Kindle sales grow exponentially till they far surpass the paperback sales each month. Thanks to all of our readers who have made the book a success.

Fifty thousand: the number of words I've reached in my manuscript for Road from the West. Only fifty thousand more to go and it'll be time to think about publishing another novel. That will make my husband happy--more book sale numbers to keep track of.

One: the number of years that we've been married. It's been a busy twelve months with having two kids and purchasing a house (Lord willing, we will close on the house this coming week). Strange as it may seem, one of my favorite things about our first year of marriage is working on book marketing together with my husband. It gives us a common interest and a shared project where we can both utilize our strengths. He discovers a new place to publish the book electronically; I format the Word document and upload it. He purchases ad space to promote the novel; I design a banner to fill that space. He approaches book blogs about reviewing I Serve; I write a guest post for them on some item of historical interest.

We've met with a lot of milestones this weekend with one thousand Kindle sales and fifty thousand word count on the new novel. And even though one is the smallest number on that list, it's still the biggest milestone of them all. Happy anniversary to my husband, my book marketing agent, and my best friend! 

December 12, 2009

The History of a Name

In honor of the birth of Adam Luther Spears and Benjamin Oliver Spears, author Rosanne E. Lortz's husband David Spears has written a guest post explaining the importance of names and the reasons behind the twins' given names.

Names are important. I know this because my name is important. It's not a famous name or a wealthy name. It is not attached to any great invention, and you won't find it listed on any Trivial Pursuit card. My name is important because I was named after my grandfather.

I never knew my grandfather; he died July 24, 1966, in Pleiku, South Vietnam. I missed being born on this date in 1980 by twelve days. I became his namesake. It has influenced my life in incalculable ways--his name was important, my name is important.

I joined the Army in September, 2000 under the legacy and history of my name. A year before 9/11, I joined when it was unpopular and old-fashioned to sign your life away. I was no September baby, as we called the wave of incoming privates. I did it because I wanted to be a soldier; I did it because my grandfather had done it.

I always signed my name with the Roman numeral two. This was partly in fear that the Army's giant paperwork bureaucracy would somehow mix me up with my grandfather and I would not be issued boots or those wonderful brown BVDs. More importantly, I had a high bar with which to measure the conduct of my professional career. I could not be one of the guys under discipline for drinking or fighting without having tarnished the name. I could not dishonor the sacrifice my grandfather made. This higher standard worked in my favor and allowed me to rise quickly in my career. I was chosen for two sniper schools while in the service. This in turn opened the door for me to work with some of the greatest men I have ever known. I became Recon. It was an indirect gift my grandfather gave me, a name that was worth something, a name I could not let down.

In 2004 I went to war with the same patch my grand-father wore in Vietnam. We both served with the Tropic Lightning (or Electric Grapefruit, depending on your view) on our shoulders. In the course of the year I had to make a call home one night on the Colonel's SAT-phone. I had to tell my father, who lost his father "officially" to a mortar round, that I had also been hit by a mortar round. I assured him my wounds were minor; but the truth was, a few seconds slower or a few degrees of angle more, and I would have been the second of my name to die in a foreign war in a city hard for most Americans to pronounce. My father almost lost his son as well as his father, but by the grace of God I did come home.

This November 5, by the same grace, I was granted the privilege of naming my firstborn twin boys. Earlier, whenever I had thought of having a son, I agonized over the responsibility of what name to give him. When I learned that we were having twins, I knew their names right away. I had been given a great gift; there was symmetry. I could name my sons after the two platoon mates, my brothers-in-arms, my two friends, who did not come home from Iraq.

Names are important. My sons' names are the most important. They are named after two of the greatest men you will never know. They are named after men of honor and sacrifice. My boys will have the duty to live a life that is worthy of such sacrifice. They can never replace the men they were named for, but they can live up to them. They must live a life both men gave up so that new life can follow destruction and loss. One day when they are older I will explain all this to them. I will tell them that names are important. I will tell them they are named after: Adam Plumondore KIA 16 Feb 2005, Mosul Iraq, and Benjamin "Rat" Morton KIA 22 May 2005, Mosul Iraq.

David Paul Spears II

Adam Plumondore & Benjamin "Rat" Morton

 

Adam Luther Spears & Benjamin Oliver Spears

First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage

Rosanne marries David Spears in Oregon City, Oregon. The couple will reside there while David finishes his degree.