The Life and Adventures of Raquel

Sometimes I think  my life would make a good Youtube show. Not a full TV show, or even a Netflix show, with its instantly bingeable seasons. Just some short episodes  like the old radio soap operas, but without the break-ups, and more of a dramedy.

Take last weekend. As part of a one car household, I order a lot of essentials delivered to the house, so that I don’t often have to get the car to go pick one thing, and only have to make grocery store trips once every week or two. Often, I order my thyroid medication shipped to the house.

So, last Friday I take my last thyroid pill in the bottle and check the tracking number. It’s scheduled to be delivered Saturday. This isn’t really optimal, because our mail won’t be delivered until mid-morning, and circadian rhythms interacting with thyroid meds mean that taking the pill the same time of day is a big deal. (Think about that next time you say that daylight savings time isn’t a big deal because you can just go to bed an hour earlier…)

The complication is that I’m out of refills on my thyroid meds, and so even if I tried to put in a new refill to pick up at the store that evening, there’s no way the doctor’s office would respond to the refill request before they closed down for the weekend anyway. (Believe me, I’ve tried before. If you have to send in a refill request on a Friday for an urgent refill you’re in trouble.) Getting my thyroid pill just a few hours late on Saturday is acceptable.

Saturday morning I wake up and check the tracking number. (cue dramatic music) The package was delayed. It reads that my package was in town and then left again, for no discernible reason.  Monday is now the soonest I can get my thyroid medication. (Remember, I still have no refills, and the doctor’s office is now closed for the weekend.)

I muddle through my day, feeling only slightly zombieish, which means my overall health is doing a lot better than a few years ago, when I missed a thyroid pill and felt like death warmed over. I take essential oils. I fix some decaf coffee and add every thyroid boosting substance I  have in the house, starting with coconut oil.

Now, this is where we pick up one of those slow sub-plot threads that’s been building for many episodes. On this Saturday, I walk down to the library, despite feeling slightly zombieish, because I have my first ever inter-library loan waiting for me.

I’ve put books on hold from other libraries in the system many times, but this book came from outside the local system, and required a librarian to fill in a paper card for me instead of me just clicking a button on the website. The rules are unclear to me, and I’m not sure how long they’ll hold an inter-library loan before sending it back, and it doesn’t even show up in my account as a hold when I check the website. I can’t risk it being sent back and having to go through that whole paper system again. (I do occasionally act my generation… “What do you mean I can’t do this on a website? And what is this paper stuff you speak of?”)

At the library, when the clerk hands me the book without a receipt (okay, I guess I do like paper sometimes) OR a comment about when it’s due back (I normally get both when I check out a book), my T3 lacking brain isn’t sure how to handle the situation. I take the book, walk off a few steps and have a sudden fear that I’m not actually supposed to leave yet, and stop and stare at the front of the book as though examining it for information for a good ten seconds before I slowly risk actually walking off with it. No one tries to stop me, so apparently inter-library loans are just weird like that.

As I walk up the driveway holding my not-actually-stolen library book I notice the corner of a package sticking up out of the mailbox by our front door. Huh. That looks a lot like the packaging my thyroid meds get mailed in. I walk up to the mailbox. The return address matches the one on the tracking number and the package definitely feels like it contains my thyroid meds.

The package does, in fact, contain my thyroid meds.

Tracking numbers are often helpful and occasionally the stupidest things ever.

So, it turns out that providentially I didn’t have to go an entire weekend without sufficient supply of vital energy supplying hormones, and that the timing of my first inter-library loan was surprisingly important to my timely discovery of  said hormones being available in my mail box. (Did I mention that tracking numbers are occasionally stupid?) Basically, my life would make a good YouTube show  because God writes better plots than I do.

Plot Twist



On Mathematics: Multiplication Tricks and the Concept of Zero

I’m finally getting back to reading Here’s Looking at Euclid, and am determined to finish up some of the non-fiction books that have been sitting in my reading pile for an embarrassingly long time.

I’m mostly posting about chapter three because I want a place to stash this quote about Indian/Vedic multiplications tricks which I found interesting:

Vertically and Crosswise, or “cross-multiplication,” is faster, uses less space and less laborious than long multiplication. Kenneth Williams told me that whenever he explains the Vedic method to school pupils they find it easy to understand. “They can’t believe they weren’t taught it before,” he said. Schools favor long multiplication because it spells out every stage of the calculation. Vertically and Crosswise keeps some of the machinery hidden. Williams things this is no bad thing, and may even help less bright pupils. “We have to steer a path and not insist that kids have to know everything all of the time. Some kids need to know how [multiplication] works. Some don’t want to know how it works. They just want to be able to do it.” ‘

This makes sense to me because I’m a huge fan of specialization. Yes, most kids probably need to know HOW their math works, but for a kid who’s struggling with it, it probably makes more sense to teach them a trick so they can do it, and focus on honing their skills where they excel, instead of spending hours and hours on something they may never excel at, and likely teaching them to hate it in the process.

The other thing that stood out to me about this chapter was the commentary on the Indian discovery of zero being related to their religious understanding of the importance of ‘nothing’ or the void. This bothers me a little as I doubt I agree with their emphasis on nothingness, but I do think the concept of zero is important and helpful in mathematics, and would like to be able to figure out the true philosophical reason behind that.

Perhaps they simply over emphasize the importance of zero as an existent entity, and the proper understanding is closer to it actually being a placeholder for nothing, but I would love to see a Christian worldview explanation of the concept of zero, as I just can’t quite figure out where to start in exploring the philosophical underpinnings.

On Mathematics: Approximation and Exactitude

The first chapter of Here’s Looking at Euclid (which is numbered at Chapter Zero) deals with the cultural differences between dealing with numbers and instinctive human reactions to dealing with numbers, which leads to a lot of discussion of approximating numbers versus exact counting.

The author ends the chapter with the conclusion that numbers are a human construct imposed on the outside world as a way to try to make sense of it. I find this conclusion baffling as it follows on the heels of this question, “If our brains can represent numbers only approximately, then how were we able to ‘invent’ numbers in the first place?” Perhaps the whole thing would make more sense if one assumed that God created numbers and mathematics, and that even our attempts at exactness are derivative from His truly exact calculations. (Pi, anyone?)

To me, the most interesting part of this exploration of the human brain and numbers was the idea that we innately tend to think logarithmically rather than linearly. That is, we tend to think in terms of comparisons and ratios rather than exact numbers as laid out on a number line. Don’t believe me? Which sounds more drastic, the difference between one and a million or the difference between one million and two million?

See what I mean?

Even those of us who lean toward logic and precision of calculation still have a human inclination to view numbers in an approximate and comparative way. (Possibly because this is more useful in everyday life, as people who tend to get caught up on precise calculations are often reminded. Counting how many items are in the carts of each person in each line of the grocery store isn’t going to save you any time, even if you do manage to calculate which line is mathematically shortest, but a quick estimate and comparison of heaping full carts vs one nearly empty cart might save you quite a bit of time.)

Now, here’s one of the interesting bits: Teenagers who were tested on their ability to rapidly compare groups of dots and accurately estimate the differences in sizes of the groups varied greatly in their ability to make these estimates. The ones who scored highest on these tests correlated to those who tended to score highly  on their school test in the precise calculations of formal mathematics. In other words, the better you are at estimating and comparing, the better you likely are at precise calculations.

This brings to mind teaching approaches that focus on the natural developmental stages of children. Perhaps rushing children past the early, colorful, comparative stages of learning math into ‘proper’ academics actually slows down their progress in the long run. I have no idea off the top of my head what that means about teaching math as specific ages, but it does seem to lend general support in the direction of allowing younger children time to focus on creative play instead of formal academics.

This chapter of the book sparked one last ponderable thought for me: If most of our formal mathematics are based on a logical, linear scale, are there similar levels of advanced mathematics yet to be discovered along the path of more intuitive, logarithmic scale?

Daily Thanks #4: Stories

I like a good romance. Let’s face it, I even like a dumb cheesy romance. As long as the guy gets the girl I don’t care if they’re epic heroes or cartoon umbrellas, I’m sold. (Seriously, I shed tears over the cartoon umbrella romance. It’s a little embarrassing.)

I like buddy stories, where a couple of guys survive an impossible number of explosions together while killing a ridiculous number of bad guys, and I like stories with so many twists and turns that I can’t figure out where the story will end up.

I like historical stories, futuristic stories, post apocalyptic stories and time travel stories. Alternate dimensions can be fun too.

For the first few months of marriage I couldn’t really get into any fiction. Living my own personal fairy tale somehow overrode any other stories for a while. But stories are so built into me that it didn’t take so very long before I decided that even fairy tales endings are better with extra stories piled into them. 🙂

Today I’m thankful for the stories that make life seem simpler, the ones that leave me chewing on questions, the ones that look at the world sideways and give me a glimpse of what might be, the ones with brave heroes and epic battles, the ones with tiny victories  and (I guess) even the dumb ones that make me cry.



I have a plan. This plan involves getting lots of writing done, but you may or may not see any of it here on my blog. For once in my life I’m going to finish writing a book. (Technically it’s the second time, but since I was co-writing the first time, I still only wrote half of a book.)

At Colton’s nudging, I have a plan for this month that significantly simplifies the amount of time I normally spend on grocery shopping, and might even cut down a little on cooking and dishwashing time.  I’m finally actually making space in my life to write.

The only problem is that almost coming down the stomach flu while actually coming down with a cold right before leaving on a weekend trip leaves a messy house full of dirty dishes and a fridge that desperately needs to be cleaned out but even more desperately needs to be restocked. As a result, this week is being spent trying to reshape the house into livable condition while simultaneously trying to recover from the energy drain of a weekend trip right after being sick.

The extended afternoons of writing time are so close I can almost touch them, but right now all of the small amounts of energy I can muster are being funneled toward reducing the giant pile of dirty dishes next to my sink. I’ve made progress in that the pile no longer extends to the floor by the sink, and doesn’t even look like it’s going to tip over at any moment.

I have this lurking feeling that as soon as I get the house in decent order some kind of urgent disaster that I dare not ignore will strike. In that case I’ll be very glad to have lots of easy meals all ready to prepare…

I’m going to finish writing a book.


Things I learned from Agatha Christie: Times Change

Agatha Christie wrote sixty-six mystery novels over the course about fifty-six years. The world changed in the course of the those fifty-six years. As a teenager, getting a smattering of impressions from different points in those years, in no particular order, was sometimes startling and even a little sad.

Over that entire span of time there were always elderly people who complained about how times had changed, but at the end you could feel that they really had.  Even with less stringent definitions a ‘proper housemaid’ made fewer and fewer appearances, and while young people might gallivant around solving mysteries in any era, they moved from nudging at boundaries to barely being aware earlier boundaries had existed. The feel of the entire world changed.

And yet, however much the feel of the world changed, the bones of it never did. From beginning to end of Agatha Christie’s stories, proper housemaids or no, people fall madly in love, do crazy stupid things that sometimes end well and sometimes end very badly indeed, eavesdrop on strangers, ignore close relations, throw parties to impress distant acquaintances, poison elderly aunts, bludgeon rivals, and sometimes drop everything and risk their lives to prevent the murder of another human being.

As a teenager I might have a grasped in a distant sort of way the concept that times change but human nature remains the same. In Agatha Christie I saw it happening, and never even knew it might be profound.