Changes afoot
I'd been hesitant to blog about this until Joel and I made some more definitive plans, but for now I'll let you know what's in the works. I'm going to leave full time employment, possibly as early as the fall semester (late August), to be full time Mommy and run our household.
Our quality of life has been poor since we've both been working. While sharing the load of running a household is good thing, Joel really does more than his share to enable me to work. This semester would have been totally nasty stress craziness if Berek weren't here helping out around the house. The only reason last fall wasn't so awful was because Joel and I were both working full time simultaneously for only six weeks.
Going down to half our income is a scary prospect, but I can think of dozens of ways we could economize if we had more time. I've already dusted off my old copies of "The Tightwad Gazette" volumes I and II, which in my single days helped me pay off all my school debt while working a low-paying editorial job. I hope that by gradually tightening our belt now, we can adjust our attitudes and continue building up a good-sized savings cushion.
I'd love to hear some words of wisdom from other one-income families. Please share some tips!
3.25.2003
Unredeemed
I'm disappointed that Chicago won best picture at the Oscars. Joel and I saw it back in February, shortly after I returned from visiting my parents, and I got too busy to blog about it then. At the time it seemed like a waste of a night out with babysitting.
Yes, the costumes and dancing are very flashy and entertaining; yes, the song lyrics are clever. However, the overall plot and themes aren't even remotely redemptive.
You're set up to see fame as a fleeting friend, but none of the characters seem to learn from their mistakes kow towing at the altar of fame. I honestly hoped the Roxie character would be redeemed by her husband's sacrificial love. But no, in Chicago sacrificial love is for "chumps and losers." Bribe, blackmail, perjure and murder all you like if it gets your name up in lights.
Well, that's Chicago. Personally, I'll take Calvary, thanks.
I'm disappointed that Chicago won best picture at the Oscars. Joel and I saw it back in February, shortly after I returned from visiting my parents, and I got too busy to blog about it then. At the time it seemed like a waste of a night out with babysitting.
Yes, the costumes and dancing are very flashy and entertaining; yes, the song lyrics are clever. However, the overall plot and themes aren't even remotely redemptive.
You're set up to see fame as a fleeting friend, but none of the characters seem to learn from their mistakes kow towing at the altar of fame. I honestly hoped the Roxie character would be redeemed by her husband's sacrificial love. But no, in Chicago sacrificial love is for "chumps and losers." Bribe, blackmail, perjure and murder all you like if it gets your name up in lights.
Well, that's Chicago. Personally, I'll take Calvary, thanks.
3.21.2003
Beauty tips
A friend e-mailed this to me and it seemed blog-worthy.
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.
--Audrey Hepburn
A friend e-mailed this to me and it seemed blog-worthy.
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.
--Audrey Hepburn
3.20.2003
Babblerama
Claire is just so darned cute. She now has quite a babble repetoire. She says da-da, ma-ma, na-na (for Nicky, of course) and Pft. Her latest is bar-bar. That's for Berek, who can get her to roar with laughter just by smiling at her. He seems to have some innate comic gift. I have to do some concerted tickling to get a laugh out of Claire.
Claire is just so darned cute. She now has quite a babble repetoire. She says da-da, ma-ma, na-na (for Nicky, of course) and Pft. Her latest is bar-bar. That's for Berek, who can get her to roar with laughter just by smiling at her. He seems to have some innate comic gift. I have to do some concerted tickling to get a laugh out of Claire.
3.18.2003
B-U-S-Y
Work is really busy right now. In addition to the monthly magazine, we're also trying to prepare for the big convention next month. We usually publish three daily newspapers for the convention, doing most of the work beforehand so only a few stories need to be written and edited each day on site. The advertising department sold so many ads, we have to do three 24-page issues. Last year the issues were only 16 pages. We've had to generate a lot of new editorial material and it's a lot to slog through.
The one bit of good news is that I don't have to travel to California. The team will e-mail stories to me while I work from home--on California time. Long days, but at least I don't have to leave Claire for 5 days.
For now I'm keeping my eye on the goal--saving all we can so I don't have to work full time forever.
Work is really busy right now. In addition to the monthly magazine, we're also trying to prepare for the big convention next month. We usually publish three daily newspapers for the convention, doing most of the work beforehand so only a few stories need to be written and edited each day on site. The advertising department sold so many ads, we have to do three 24-page issues. Last year the issues were only 16 pages. We've had to generate a lot of new editorial material and it's a lot to slog through.
The one bit of good news is that I don't have to travel to California. The team will e-mail stories to me while I work from home--on California time. Long days, but at least I don't have to leave Claire for 5 days.
For now I'm keeping my eye on the goal--saving all we can so I don't have to work full time forever.
3.07.2003
Memories
Last night we met with two other couples from church to lay plans for a new neighborhood Bible study that Joel will be leading. The young couple who plan to host it are newlyweds, just two months past the altar. Their apartment reminded me so much of our first apartment--spacious and boxy and very beige. It even had the undersized fridge like we had. I remember being so excited to have my own fridge that I didn't have so share with two roommates who had staked out particular "territory" and became miffed about sharing space.
Unlike J & A's place, which is in the basement, our first apartment was on the third floor, in a highrise on a hill with a view of the Wissahickon Valley. We had two big picture windows that I liked to look out and watch the trees swaying in the valley below. That hill was also at the intersection of two busy streets. Day and night you could hear the Route 27 bus "talking" and souped-up car stereos thumping out gangsta rap.
The neighbors next door were transplants from Africa who tended to cook not-quite-fresh meat. We often held our breath to get from the elevator to our aparment. But everyone in the building was so friendly, from the priest on the 9th floor, to the two mentally retarded men and their helper on the 6th. It was fun to comiserate with fellow tenants at the train station about the heat that never turned off and, of course, the cockroaches.
We were lucky to have so few roaches for being in a city highrise. But just the same, I never went to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water. Or if I did, I turned on the kitchen light without looking in the room, waited a minute for the bugs to hide, then went in. Denial is sometimes a necessity.
Despite being a bit crammed with Joel's 6,000 books, we were pretty comfortable there. I definitely learned to be creative with using space. For example, we kept a small freezer in the second bedroom closet and set our bed on an angle so we could hide boxes behind the tall headboard.
Those were the days when Saturdays were all about big pancake breakfasts and cooking shows on public television, not gardening and cleaning 11 rooms. While I love my bigger fridge and owning a washer and dryer, some days I miss that low-maintenance apartment.
But not the gangsta rap. Or the rancid meat smell. Definitely not the roaches.
Last night we met with two other couples from church to lay plans for a new neighborhood Bible study that Joel will be leading. The young couple who plan to host it are newlyweds, just two months past the altar. Their apartment reminded me so much of our first apartment--spacious and boxy and very beige. It even had the undersized fridge like we had. I remember being so excited to have my own fridge that I didn't have so share with two roommates who had staked out particular "territory" and became miffed about sharing space.
Unlike J & A's place, which is in the basement, our first apartment was on the third floor, in a highrise on a hill with a view of the Wissahickon Valley. We had two big picture windows that I liked to look out and watch the trees swaying in the valley below. That hill was also at the intersection of two busy streets. Day and night you could hear the Route 27 bus "talking" and souped-up car stereos thumping out gangsta rap.
The neighbors next door were transplants from Africa who tended to cook not-quite-fresh meat. We often held our breath to get from the elevator to our aparment. But everyone in the building was so friendly, from the priest on the 9th floor, to the two mentally retarded men and their helper on the 6th. It was fun to comiserate with fellow tenants at the train station about the heat that never turned off and, of course, the cockroaches.
We were lucky to have so few roaches for being in a city highrise. But just the same, I never went to the kitchen in the middle of the night for a glass of water. Or if I did, I turned on the kitchen light without looking in the room, waited a minute for the bugs to hide, then went in. Denial is sometimes a necessity.
Despite being a bit crammed with Joel's 6,000 books, we were pretty comfortable there. I definitely learned to be creative with using space. For example, we kept a small freezer in the second bedroom closet and set our bed on an angle so we could hide boxes behind the tall headboard.
Those were the days when Saturdays were all about big pancake breakfasts and cooking shows on public television, not gardening and cleaning 11 rooms. While I love my bigger fridge and owning a washer and dryer, some days I miss that low-maintenance apartment.
But not the gangsta rap. Or the rancid meat smell. Definitely not the roaches.
3.05.2003
Whenever I need a laugh...
...I just remember last Friday night, when we took bq to a 76ers basketball game for his pretend birthday (he doesn't have a real birthday until next year). We were quite riled up and punchy after the Sixers beat the Utah Jazz. In our long walk to the parking lot, bq and Joel showed off their best silly walks. I was laughing so hard I almost had an asthma attack.
John Cleese, eat your heart out, bq is next in line to take over the Ministry of Silly Walks.
...I just remember last Friday night, when we took bq to a 76ers basketball game for his pretend birthday (he doesn't have a real birthday until next year). We were quite riled up and punchy after the Sixers beat the Utah Jazz. In our long walk to the parking lot, bq and Joel showed off their best silly walks. I was laughing so hard I almost had an asthma attack.
John Cleese, eat your heart out, bq is next in line to take over the Ministry of Silly Walks.
Good things come to those who wait
I generally frown upon procrastination, as it leads to all sorts of evil like expired coupons, dust elephants and dead houseplants. However, a little dithering on my part really paid off this week. After months of telling myself, "We really should refinance the mortgage," I finally locked in our new mortgage yesterday--at 5.5%. Woo hoo! Our original mortgage was at 8.125%.
Okay, I'm ready for the bad economy to be over now, thanks.
I generally frown upon procrastination, as it leads to all sorts of evil like expired coupons, dust elephants and dead houseplants. However, a little dithering on my part really paid off this week. After months of telling myself, "We really should refinance the mortgage," I finally locked in our new mortgage yesterday--at 5.5%. Woo hoo! Our original mortgage was at 8.125%.
Okay, I'm ready for the bad economy to be over now, thanks.
2.28.2003
Analyze this
I've sure had some strange dreams lately. Earlier this week I dreamed Saddam Hussein came to our Sunday school class at Tenth. He was dressed in a dapper suit and spoke thickly accented English. Strangely, he was very charming, and even more strangely had dark blue eyes.
I also dreamed that everyone in Philadelpia had suddenly become a chain smoker. Everywhere I went--the office, the train station, the mall--people were hanging around smoking. I think the tirgger for that dream was Berek coming home after class Tuesday smelling like an ashtray. He gets a ride from his prof who smokes in the car.
I've sure had some strange dreams lately. Earlier this week I dreamed Saddam Hussein came to our Sunday school class at Tenth. He was dressed in a dapper suit and spoke thickly accented English. Strangely, he was very charming, and even more strangely had dark blue eyes.
I also dreamed that everyone in Philadelpia had suddenly become a chain smoker. Everywhere I went--the office, the train station, the mall--people were hanging around smoking. I think the tirgger for that dream was Berek coming home after class Tuesday smelling like an ashtray. He gets a ride from his prof who smokes in the car.
2.21.2003
Ooops
Apparently Valerie is still in the land of the blogging. Every time I checked her blog today, all I got was a nav bar, but it's apparently just a fluke.
Whew. Thanks for helping me bear the blogging load, Valerie!
Apparently Valerie is still in the land of the blogging. Every time I checked her blog today, all I got was a nav bar, but it's apparently just a fluke.
Whew. Thanks for helping me bear the blogging load, Valerie!
Avril
OK, I now feel really pressured to keep on blogging something, anything, in the face of so much empty cyperspace. Yet another of my favorite blogs has gone on hiatus.
So, I noticed in Newsweek a fun little blurb on trucker caps, made popular by singer Avril Lavigne. The article commented that only someone so beautiful could get away with such ugly clothes. Frankly, there's a lot I like about Avril's style. She always dresses very modestly, unlike her trampy contemporaries on the pop scene like Britney. I'd definitely prefer that Claire be a tomboy rather than emulate the immodest clothing and behavior of most female teen idols.
I also like the fact that the guys in Avril's videos are clearly her good buddies. They don't leer and ogle and treat the young lady like a mere sex object. Avril and the guys are just friends who enjoy one another's company. (I really can't comment on her music, because I've only heard the two top-40 hits.)
In our sex-saturated society, it's nice to see some plain old buddy-ness among boys and girls. I really enjoyed the different perspective of my male childhood friends, and the chance to occasionally play superheros together and drive toy trucks in the sand.
OK, I now feel really pressured to keep on blogging something, anything, in the face of so much empty cyperspace. Yet another of my favorite blogs has gone on hiatus.
So, I noticed in Newsweek a fun little blurb on trucker caps, made popular by singer Avril Lavigne. The article commented that only someone so beautiful could get away with such ugly clothes. Frankly, there's a lot I like about Avril's style. She always dresses very modestly, unlike her trampy contemporaries on the pop scene like Britney. I'd definitely prefer that Claire be a tomboy rather than emulate the immodest clothing and behavior of most female teen idols.
I also like the fact that the guys in Avril's videos are clearly her good buddies. They don't leer and ogle and treat the young lady like a mere sex object. Avril and the guys are just friends who enjoy one another's company. (I really can't comment on her music, because I've only heard the two top-40 hits.)
In our sex-saturated society, it's nice to see some plain old buddy-ness among boys and girls. I really enjoyed the different perspective of my male childhood friends, and the chance to occasionally play superheros together and drive toy trucks in the sand.
2.20.2003
Some random thoughts on hospitality
I've been thinking about hospitality a lot lately, partly because I promised Sarah that I'd provide some ideas for her essay [book?] on the topic. Then I read some of Rick's posts about hospitality gone awry. So here are some of my musings on the topic of dinner parties.
Hospitality is about giving and putting guests at their ease, making them feel accepted and cherished. When certain rituals, conventions and expectations get in the way of that, you as the host have to just let them go. ("He who covers over an offense promotes love, but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends." -- Proverbs 17:9)
Is is polite for a guest to bring a hostess gift? Yes. Should you expect one? No. Perhaps your dinner guest's gift will be to offer to help with the dishes. Or perhaps your guest has no training in etiquette at all. He or she needs to be gently taught, not humiliated.
Say a guest comes to a group dinner party and seeing the other guests' bottles of wine or desserts, realizes he should have offered to bring something. So he turns to you, the host, saying in great embarrassment, "Oh no. I should have brought something. You must think I'm so rude."
You're centainly not going to put your guest at ease by agreeing that he is incorrigibly rude or by smiling condescendingly at his plight. Give him an out. "My friend, you have brought the best gift, a willing heart. Could you help me fill the water glasses?" (This doesn't mean your guest is obliged to be your servant for the evening. Just give him one or two easy tasks so that he feels he is being a good guest.)
Another way to handle this situation is to ask your guests to bring a specific item when you extend the invitation. Gear your request to the guest. The point is for them to feel comfortable, so don't ask for items that will take a lot of effort or expense to get. For instance, it's best to ask busy guests to bring something they can get at a convenience store--like ice, a few bottles of soda or ice cream. Cash-strapped guests could bring something inexpensive, like a box of tea.
Always say yes when a guest offers to bring something or help. Refusing a gift is a kind of rejection of that person. There's always something that will enhance a meal, even if it's just flavored coffee creamer, a new kind of tea or an ice cream topping. Treat your guest's gift with honor, even if it's something you don't care for. Honor their thoughfulness with kind words.
So what if you didn't think to ask a guest to bring something and she didn't offer either? The guest might surprise you, or she might not. Just be prepared if she brings nothing. Have some extra wine on hand, and a dessert that keeps, like sorbet or ice cream. Move along with your stored items if no food gifts are on offer, thanking God for your guest and for the privilege of serving her. Remember in Jesus's parable about the sheep and goats, when the King says "whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me" (Matt. 25:40).
I've been thinking about hospitality a lot lately, partly because I promised Sarah that I'd provide some ideas for her essay [book?] on the topic. Then I read some of Rick's posts about hospitality gone awry. So here are some of my musings on the topic of dinner parties.
Hospitality is about giving and putting guests at their ease, making them feel accepted and cherished. When certain rituals, conventions and expectations get in the way of that, you as the host have to just let them go. ("He who covers over an offense promotes love, but whoever repeats the matter separates close friends." -- Proverbs 17:9)
Is is polite for a guest to bring a hostess gift? Yes. Should you expect one? No. Perhaps your dinner guest's gift will be to offer to help with the dishes. Or perhaps your guest has no training in etiquette at all. He or she needs to be gently taught, not humiliated.
Say a guest comes to a group dinner party and seeing the other guests' bottles of wine or desserts, realizes he should have offered to bring something. So he turns to you, the host, saying in great embarrassment, "Oh no. I should have brought something. You must think I'm so rude."
You're centainly not going to put your guest at ease by agreeing that he is incorrigibly rude or by smiling condescendingly at his plight. Give him an out. "My friend, you have brought the best gift, a willing heart. Could you help me fill the water glasses?" (This doesn't mean your guest is obliged to be your servant for the evening. Just give him one or two easy tasks so that he feels he is being a good guest.)
Another way to handle this situation is to ask your guests to bring a specific item when you extend the invitation. Gear your request to the guest. The point is for them to feel comfortable, so don't ask for items that will take a lot of effort or expense to get. For instance, it's best to ask busy guests to bring something they can get at a convenience store--like ice, a few bottles of soda or ice cream. Cash-strapped guests could bring something inexpensive, like a box of tea.
Always say yes when a guest offers to bring something or help. Refusing a gift is a kind of rejection of that person. There's always something that will enhance a meal, even if it's just flavored coffee creamer, a new kind of tea or an ice cream topping. Treat your guest's gift with honor, even if it's something you don't care for. Honor their thoughfulness with kind words.
So what if you didn't think to ask a guest to bring something and she didn't offer either? The guest might surprise you, or she might not. Just be prepared if she brings nothing. Have some extra wine on hand, and a dessert that keeps, like sorbet or ice cream. Move along with your stored items if no food gifts are on offer, thanking God for your guest and for the privilege of serving her. Remember in Jesus's parable about the sheep and goats, when the King says "whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did it for me" (Matt. 25:40).
2.18.2003
2.16.2003
Whee!
We are hunkered down for a few days of going nowhere fast. Snow has been falling heavily all day, and we're likely to have 2+ feet of snow before all is said and done.
The groceries are stocked, and we've got several weeks' supply of cat food, dog food and diapers. Of course, we were much too busy this weekend helping my brother move to stock up on disaster supplies, which is okay I guess. Joel mocked me for falling prey to hysteria. OK, mocked is too strong a word. He said this whole campaign reminds him of the "duck and cover" civil defense drills from the 1950s. If there's a biological attack, is plastic over the windows really going to help?
So I'm just going to enjoy some time at home and try to not worry. We're all a bit punchy already from being cooped up. Berek was whining about getting an A- in one of his Whitfield courses and we threatened to throw him out in the snow. Then we ate lots of cheese and crackers, watched a Gilmore Girls rerun, chased Nicky around the house, then Joel and I had a tickle fight. Hee hee. Snow brings out the kid in all of us.
We are hunkered down for a few days of going nowhere fast. Snow has been falling heavily all day, and we're likely to have 2+ feet of snow before all is said and done.
The groceries are stocked, and we've got several weeks' supply of cat food, dog food and diapers. Of course, we were much too busy this weekend helping my brother move to stock up on disaster supplies, which is okay I guess. Joel mocked me for falling prey to hysteria. OK, mocked is too strong a word. He said this whole campaign reminds him of the "duck and cover" civil defense drills from the 1950s. If there's a biological attack, is plastic over the windows really going to help?
So I'm just going to enjoy some time at home and try to not worry. We're all a bit punchy already from being cooped up. Berek was whining about getting an A- in one of his Whitfield courses and we threatened to throw him out in the snow. Then we ate lots of cheese and crackers, watched a Gilmore Girls rerun, chased Nicky around the house, then Joel and I had a tickle fight. Hee hee. Snow brings out the kid in all of us.
2.14.2003
Signs?
Last night I had a very disturbing dream. Joel and Claire and I were living in a house in the country and a tornado was heading straight for our house. I became absolutely hysterical and paralyzed trying to figure out what items to grab before we evacuated.
Then today at work, we received a huge packet of information on disaster preparedness.
Is this some sort of sign that I need to get my act together? Normally, I don't worry to much when the government becomes excessively paranoid, but maybe I should this time. We own no duct tape, have few first aid supplies on hand and our stock of batteries is low. We really, really need to burn some CDs of all the digital Claire photos and locate my birth certificate, too, in case of a normal disaster like a fire.
I hate to admit it, but I'm also seriously thinking about picking up some surgical gloves and masks, as well as fuel for my Coleman camp stove.
Last night I had a very disturbing dream. Joel and Claire and I were living in a house in the country and a tornado was heading straight for our house. I became absolutely hysterical and paralyzed trying to figure out what items to grab before we evacuated.
Then today at work, we received a huge packet of information on disaster preparedness.
Is this some sort of sign that I need to get my act together? Normally, I don't worry to much when the government becomes excessively paranoid, but maybe I should this time. We own no duct tape, have few first aid supplies on hand and our stock of batteries is low. We really, really need to burn some CDs of all the digital Claire photos and locate my birth certificate, too, in case of a normal disaster like a fire.
I hate to admit it, but I'm also seriously thinking about picking up some surgical gloves and masks, as well as fuel for my Coleman camp stove.
2.10.2003
Weighty matters
Thanks to the spiffy new virus diet, I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Saturday I wore a pair of jeans I hadn't worn since last February. Of course, these are my "moderately fat" jeans, so I still have some work to do to get back to my pre-engagement weight.
But there's nothing like a little success, however painfully won, to get me psyched up.
Pounds, you are comin' down! Body fat, you are outta here!
Thanks to the spiffy new virus diet, I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Saturday I wore a pair of jeans I hadn't worn since last February. Of course, these are my "moderately fat" jeans, so I still have some work to do to get back to my pre-engagement weight.
But there's nothing like a little success, however painfully won, to get me psyched up.
Pounds, you are comin' down! Body fat, you are outta here!
2.06.2003
Gilmore laughs
I really love the writing on Gilmore Girls. Two days after seeing the new episode, I still chuckle when I remember some of the lines. I especially loved Rory's rant in the hospital: "...And they want me to put on a gown. Those gowns don't close well, you know. I've seen a lot of butts today."
This also cracks me up:
Lorelei to Sherry: Just don't look at the baby too closely until they clean it up, or you might think you gave birth to phlegm.
I really love the writing on Gilmore Girls. Two days after seeing the new episode, I still chuckle when I remember some of the lines. I especially loved Rory's rant in the hospital: "...And they want me to put on a gown. Those gowns don't close well, you know. I've seen a lot of butts today."
This also cracks me up:
Lorelei to Sherry: Just don't look at the baby too closely until they clean it up, or you might think you gave birth to phlegm.
Better care
The Florida saga continues: Dad is now staying in the skilled nursing facility for a few days. This stomach virus we passed to him made him so dehydrated he blacked out and hit his head (just a bad cut, not a concussion or anything).
I had blacked out the first day I was sick while fixing a bottle for Claire and spilled formula all over the floor, so I can see how he too might pass out.
With some IV fluids he will be on the mend very soon. I feel so guilty, but Mom says he was fairly dehydrated before he got sick. The one medicine he takes requires heavy fluid intake, which he stubbornly refuses to do. She said she's actually glad this happened because it will make the seriousness of drinking enough more clear to him.
The Florida saga continues: Dad is now staying in the skilled nursing facility for a few days. This stomach virus we passed to him made him so dehydrated he blacked out and hit his head (just a bad cut, not a concussion or anything).
I had blacked out the first day I was sick while fixing a bottle for Claire and spilled formula all over the floor, so I can see how he too might pass out.
With some IV fluids he will be on the mend very soon. I feel so guilty, but Mom says he was fairly dehydrated before he got sick. The one medicine he takes requires heavy fluid intake, which he stubbornly refuses to do. She said she's actually glad this happened because it will make the seriousness of drinking enough more clear to him.
2.05.2003
Ahh, home...
Joel rescheduled our flight home, so Claire and I flew back from Florida yesterday. Thanks everyone for your prayers, I definitely felt palpably uplifted! We DID get an extra seat for Claire, and only prayer can account for it because a number of standby passengers were squeezed onto the flight. I could just kiss the US Airways staffer in Fort Myers who pulled the strings for us. Aside from a little whineyness, Claire traveled very well this time.
On the plus side, the weather was really, really beautiful the whole time I was there--sunny and in the mid-70s. When I was well, I enjoyed the spa-like elements of their retirement community--the heated pool, jacuzzi, fitness center and trails along the Caloosahatchee River where dolphins frolic.
I helped Mom with organizing and framing pictures of all the grandkids, a project she's been meaning to do for five years. I took Dad shopping for Mom's birthday gift (he unfortunately didn't understand what we were doing) so that she didn't have to buy herself something and pretend he remembered (which he isn't capable of). Dad totally loved having Claire there--he's such a softie anyway, and especially so with babies. Sadly he probably won't remember the visit in a short time, but I hope that when he sees her picture, he at least thinks she looks familiar. I try to not let it get me down, but I hate how dementia has taken my Dad from me, and that neither Joel nor Claire will ever know my other Dad, the smart, funny, gifted, creative, fix-everything guy.
Overall, I think my visit with my folks was like mommy boot camp. I let my poor kid get a horrific ulcerated diaper rash, which scared me a lot. Fortunately it was very treatable and cleared up in a few days. The stomach flu that she and I had Friday and Saturday we then passed on to both of my parents.
My lowest point was Sunday night when I was still feverish, Mom was sick as a dog and Claire had a relapse with vomiting. Rescheduling the flight home made total sense at that point. Dad got sick Monday, so I spend my last morning doing loads and loads of laundry, scrubbing toilets and cleaning stains out of the carpet.
It's good to be home again.
Joel rescheduled our flight home, so Claire and I flew back from Florida yesterday. Thanks everyone for your prayers, I definitely felt palpably uplifted! We DID get an extra seat for Claire, and only prayer can account for it because a number of standby passengers were squeezed onto the flight. I could just kiss the US Airways staffer in Fort Myers who pulled the strings for us. Aside from a little whineyness, Claire traveled very well this time.
On the plus side, the weather was really, really beautiful the whole time I was there--sunny and in the mid-70s. When I was well, I enjoyed the spa-like elements of their retirement community--the heated pool, jacuzzi, fitness center and trails along the Caloosahatchee River where dolphins frolic.
I helped Mom with organizing and framing pictures of all the grandkids, a project she's been meaning to do for five years. I took Dad shopping for Mom's birthday gift (he unfortunately didn't understand what we were doing) so that she didn't have to buy herself something and pretend he remembered (which he isn't capable of). Dad totally loved having Claire there--he's such a softie anyway, and especially so with babies. Sadly he probably won't remember the visit in a short time, but I hope that when he sees her picture, he at least thinks she looks familiar. I try to not let it get me down, but I hate how dementia has taken my Dad from me, and that neither Joel nor Claire will ever know my other Dad, the smart, funny, gifted, creative, fix-everything guy.
Overall, I think my visit with my folks was like mommy boot camp. I let my poor kid get a horrific ulcerated diaper rash, which scared me a lot. Fortunately it was very treatable and cleared up in a few days. The stomach flu that she and I had Friday and Saturday we then passed on to both of my parents.
My lowest point was Sunday night when I was still feverish, Mom was sick as a dog and Claire had a relapse with vomiting. Rescheduling the flight home made total sense at that point. Dad got sick Monday, so I spend my last morning doing loads and loads of laundry, scrubbing toilets and cleaning stains out of the carpet.
It's good to be home again.
2.02.2003
From bad to worse
For all my trying to be aggressive, I still couldn't get an extra seat on the way down to Florida. Because I had a window seat Claire was stuck in dirty diapers for hours on end. She also had several long screaming jags on a very full flight. I just wanted to hide under the seat.
When we finally landed I was able to change her diaper for a second time and saw that she had the worst diaper rash she's ever had. No wonder she was screaming. With a little research we discovered that the rash was a yeast infection and, using an anti-fungal cream, it seems to be clearing up.
Other than the rash we were enjoying our visit, until Friday night when Claire began vomiting. 24-hours later I was hit with the same bug and couldn't keep anything down, not even water. After being up most of the night every hour on the hour, I finally crashed and slept until about 3pm today. I can eat bland foods again, but I dread my plane trip home.
Please pray that Claire and I will be in full health on the trip home and be able to get an extra seat for her on the return flight.
For all my trying to be aggressive, I still couldn't get an extra seat on the way down to Florida. Because I had a window seat Claire was stuck in dirty diapers for hours on end. She also had several long screaming jags on a very full flight. I just wanted to hide under the seat.
When we finally landed I was able to change her diaper for a second time and saw that she had the worst diaper rash she's ever had. No wonder she was screaming. With a little research we discovered that the rash was a yeast infection and, using an anti-fungal cream, it seems to be clearing up.
Other than the rash we were enjoying our visit, until Friday night when Claire began vomiting. 24-hours later I was hit with the same bug and couldn't keep anything down, not even water. After being up most of the night every hour on the hour, I finally crashed and slept until about 3pm today. I can eat bland foods again, but I dread my plane trip home.
Please pray that Claire and I will be in full health on the trip home and be able to get an extra seat for her on the return flight.
1.29.2003
An embarrassment of riches
Well, our childcare for spring is all worked out. Our sitter from the fall wants to continue watching Claire one day a week up until her due date (coincidentally Joel's last day of class). Her neighbor, who we know from our church, wants to watch Claire the other day. Her husband is a pediatrics resident, definitely a plus! And her little girl is about 8 months older than Claire, which will make her a fun playmate.
The most amazing thing is this is the third offer we received. The two others interested in watching Claire were seminary wives who don't live quite as close as Lisa and Kari. (They are about two miles from here--a five minute drive. )
We are rejoicing and praising God for his provision!
I'd better finish packing for my trip to Florida tomorrow. Thanks again, Sarah and others, for your travel with baby tips. I even bought the little travel packs of powdered formula so that I wouldn't freak out the security people who could mistake it for a biological weapon. (Boy do I wish I was kidding. But an airport was closed down when one mom spilled some formula powder, which security thought "might be anthrax." What an insane world we live in.)
Well, our childcare for spring is all worked out. Our sitter from the fall wants to continue watching Claire one day a week up until her due date (coincidentally Joel's last day of class). Her neighbor, who we know from our church, wants to watch Claire the other day. Her husband is a pediatrics resident, definitely a plus! And her little girl is about 8 months older than Claire, which will make her a fun playmate.
The most amazing thing is this is the third offer we received. The two others interested in watching Claire were seminary wives who don't live quite as close as Lisa and Kari. (They are about two miles from here--a five minute drive. )
We are rejoicing and praising God for his provision!
I'd better finish packing for my trip to Florida tomorrow. Thanks again, Sarah and others, for your travel with baby tips. I even bought the little travel packs of powdered formula so that I wouldn't freak out the security people who could mistake it for a biological weapon. (Boy do I wish I was kidding. But an airport was closed down when one mom spilled some formula powder, which security thought "might be anthrax." What an insane world we live in.)
1.28.2003
Finished
I zipped right through The High Flyer yesterday, thanks to being too sick to work. My very congested sinuses kept me in bed all day. I think it's the first time I've taken a sick day and not turned on the TV even once.
All I can say is wow. What a tremendous book. I'm amazed that I'd forgotten so much of the plot after two and a half years. My brain must be getting full of the many plots from all of the novels I read for my three book clubs.
BTW, last week I finished the Philadelphia book that Mayor Street chose for the "One city, one book" program. It's called Price of a Child by Lorene Cary. It's a fascinating look at the Underground Railway and abolitionism. I think it's a somewhat flawed book--charaters are hard to keep straight, and some plot points are sadly underdeveloped. But I did appreciate seeing white abolitionists though the eyes of African Americans--even those painted as "good guys" in our history books were far from saintly.
I'm beginning to realize my own ancestors' culpability, even if they did live in the Midwest and fight in the Union army in the Civil War, because it's likely they bought goods made cheap due to slave labor. Of course, that brings up the perennial question, How effective are boycotts?
I zipped right through The High Flyer yesterday, thanks to being too sick to work. My very congested sinuses kept me in bed all day. I think it's the first time I've taken a sick day and not turned on the TV even once.
All I can say is wow. What a tremendous book. I'm amazed that I'd forgotten so much of the plot after two and a half years. My brain must be getting full of the many plots from all of the novels I read for my three book clubs.
BTW, last week I finished the Philadelphia book that Mayor Street chose for the "One city, one book" program. It's called Price of a Child by Lorene Cary. It's a fascinating look at the Underground Railway and abolitionism. I think it's a somewhat flawed book--charaters are hard to keep straight, and some plot points are sadly underdeveloped. But I did appreciate seeing white abolitionists though the eyes of African Americans--even those painted as "good guys" in our history books were far from saintly.
I'm beginning to realize my own ancestors' culpability, even if they did live in the Midwest and fight in the Union army in the Civil War, because it's likely they bought goods made cheap due to slave labor. Of course, that brings up the perennial question, How effective are boycotts?
1.27.2003
Brian and Stacey's Wedding
Congratulations to Brian "barukatash" Davis and his new bride Stacey. We attended their lovely wedding last Saturday, along with fellow bloggers Valerie, Paulo and Daniel. Here are some pics that Joel took.
Congratulations to Brian "barukatash" Davis and his new bride Stacey. We attended their lovely wedding last Saturday, along with fellow bloggers Valerie, Paulo and Daniel. Here are some pics that Joel took.
1.24.2003
Suffering withdrawal...
from Susan Howatch. I don't want to work, I want to keep rereading The High Flyer. I'd forgotten how addicting Howatch's books are. February book club, discussing this page turner, will be delicious. :-)
However, I need to edit a yucky article on antibiotic resistance. (Should you use a fluoroquinolone to treat penicilin-resistant strains of Streptococcus pneumoniae that present as meningitis? Ugh. Better order that medical spell checker today.) I also need to keep slogging though a pro bono editing job I'm doing on a friend's first novel. I never saw so many run-on sentences. *sigh*
I'll get back to you soon, Carter Graham, I promise.
from Susan Howatch. I don't want to work, I want to keep rereading The High Flyer. I'd forgotten how addicting Howatch's books are. February book club, discussing this page turner, will be delicious. :-)
However, I need to edit a yucky article on antibiotic resistance. (Should you use a fluoroquinolone to treat penicilin-resistant strains of Streptococcus pneumoniae that present as meningitis? Ugh. Better order that medical spell checker today.) I also need to keep slogging though a pro bono editing job I'm doing on a friend's first novel. I never saw so many run-on sentences. *sigh*
I'll get back to you soon, Carter Graham, I promise.
1.21.2003
Just punishments
There's no doubt that America's penal system needs major reform. The question is, what reforms will really be effective?
I'm often troubled by the fact that our current system does little for victims. How helpful is it to a family who lost a mother to a drunk driver, or life savings to a fradulent broker, to know the perpetrator is sitting in jail at their expense? While I'm not in favor of returning to the O.T. law in its totality (for reasons I won't go into right now), I think we've lost something by not incorporating the biblical use of recompense or retribution.
Our current system is warped in particular ways because two camps have been in a tug of war trying to shape the philosophy of punishment. On one side are those who want criminals to suffer very greatly, and for more to receive the death penalty as a way of deterring crime. On the other side are those who want to reform prisoners and educate them to a better life, as a means of preventing future crimes.
In the meantime, our prisons are bulging. We're neither deterring crime nor putting whole, reformed people on the streets after they serve their time. I'm troubled not only by violent criminals who remain unchanged by having shattered lives, but also by "white collar criminals" who have little remorse for the financial ruin they have brought to others.
I doubt I'm the first to suggest this, but I think it might be a good thing to require criminals to compensate those they harm. As part of passing sentence, a price would be set that the criminal would have to earn during his or her inprisonment. The government would pay that amount to the victim or victims or victim's family, then the prisoner would work to reimburse the government. Not only that, but part of prisoners' wages should go to pay for their food and shelter, and part put in savings to help them start over on the outside (perhaps a 60/30/10 split of wages).
Of course, this would necessitate turning our prisons into houses of industry instead of houses of sloth. Some could become factories, some farms, some providing services like claims processing or groundskeeping. By being productive, prisoners would gain skills without putting excessive financial burdens on taxpayers. And working would give a sense of purpose--an element that's sadly absent in current models of rehabilitating criminals.
Prisoners would be reminded of their debt to those they harmed every time they received a wages statement. Hopefully this would cause them to see their victims as people, feel remorse, and at the same time feel that they are somewhat redeeming the situation.
I don't know that this would be effective in the cases of serial-killer psychopaths. But it might help some other criminals who steal, car-jack, deal drugs, extort, blackmail, commit fraud, rob using guns, burn down buildings, drive drunk and kill due to negligence.
This model may have some serious weaknesses, which you're welcome to point out. But I think the underlying idea of retribution and working prisons is more helpful to prisoners, victims and society that what we currently have.
There's no doubt that America's penal system needs major reform. The question is, what reforms will really be effective?
I'm often troubled by the fact that our current system does little for victims. How helpful is it to a family who lost a mother to a drunk driver, or life savings to a fradulent broker, to know the perpetrator is sitting in jail at their expense? While I'm not in favor of returning to the O.T. law in its totality (for reasons I won't go into right now), I think we've lost something by not incorporating the biblical use of recompense or retribution.
Our current system is warped in particular ways because two camps have been in a tug of war trying to shape the philosophy of punishment. On one side are those who want criminals to suffer very greatly, and for more to receive the death penalty as a way of deterring crime. On the other side are those who want to reform prisoners and educate them to a better life, as a means of preventing future crimes.
In the meantime, our prisons are bulging. We're neither deterring crime nor putting whole, reformed people on the streets after they serve their time. I'm troubled not only by violent criminals who remain unchanged by having shattered lives, but also by "white collar criminals" who have little remorse for the financial ruin they have brought to others.
I doubt I'm the first to suggest this, but I think it might be a good thing to require criminals to compensate those they harm. As part of passing sentence, a price would be set that the criminal would have to earn during his or her inprisonment. The government would pay that amount to the victim or victims or victim's family, then the prisoner would work to reimburse the government. Not only that, but part of prisoners' wages should go to pay for their food and shelter, and part put in savings to help them start over on the outside (perhaps a 60/30/10 split of wages).
Of course, this would necessitate turning our prisons into houses of industry instead of houses of sloth. Some could become factories, some farms, some providing services like claims processing or groundskeeping. By being productive, prisoners would gain skills without putting excessive financial burdens on taxpayers. And working would give a sense of purpose--an element that's sadly absent in current models of rehabilitating criminals.
Prisoners would be reminded of their debt to those they harmed every time they received a wages statement. Hopefully this would cause them to see their victims as people, feel remorse, and at the same time feel that they are somewhat redeeming the situation.
I don't know that this would be effective in the cases of serial-killer psychopaths. But it might help some other criminals who steal, car-jack, deal drugs, extort, blackmail, commit fraud, rob using guns, burn down buildings, drive drunk and kill due to negligence.
This model may have some serious weaknesses, which you're welcome to point out. But I think the underlying idea of retribution and working prisons is more helpful to prisoners, victims and society that what we currently have.
1.17.2003
Partial answer
Thank you everyone who has been praying about our childcare situation. We have a stopgap in place to get us through the next two months, which will buy us more time to find someone more permanent. Our autumn sitter's sister is watching Claire today and will watch her several more times in January and February. However, she's in the process of getting work as a social worker with the city, so once she fills out applications and takes the civil service exam, she expects to get hired and begin her new job.
It's a good situation while it lasts. Claire gets to stay at home and the sitter can earn some extra income until she starts working full time again. Meanwhile, the search continues....
Thank you everyone who has been praying about our childcare situation. We have a stopgap in place to get us through the next two months, which will buy us more time to find someone more permanent. Our autumn sitter's sister is watching Claire today and will watch her several more times in January and February. However, she's in the process of getting work as a social worker with the city, so once she fills out applications and takes the civil service exam, she expects to get hired and begin her new job.
It's a good situation while it lasts. Claire gets to stay at home and the sitter can earn some extra income until she starts working full time again. Meanwhile, the search continues....
1.13.2003
Still searching…
The semester began today and we still don’t have a solid childcare plan in place. We visited a local daycare center last week and didn’t hate it, but didn’t exactly love it either. Our preference is still for Claire to be in a private home.
We finally have one possible lead, though. Our autumn babysitter’s unemployed sister might be willing to watch Claire the two days a week we need while she job hunts. She’d probably watch Claire at our house, which would cut down our morning frenzy quite a bit.
We’re not “putting all our eggs in one basket,” however. We’ve also done a lot of calling around, posted an ad at church and are even running some ads in local newsletters for Christian moms.
Please pray that we can find the right person. What a blessing it would be to all involved if we could find someone who really needs the extra income.
The semester began today and we still don’t have a solid childcare plan in place. We visited a local daycare center last week and didn’t hate it, but didn’t exactly love it either. Our preference is still for Claire to be in a private home.
We finally have one possible lead, though. Our autumn babysitter’s unemployed sister might be willing to watch Claire the two days a week we need while she job hunts. She’d probably watch Claire at our house, which would cut down our morning frenzy quite a bit.
We’re not “putting all our eggs in one basket,” however. We’ve also done a lot of calling around, posted an ad at church and are even running some ads in local newsletters for Christian moms.
Please pray that we can find the right person. What a blessing it would be to all involved if we could find someone who really needs the extra income.
He’s here!
Berek arrived last Wednesday and started classes today. We’re so glad he’s here. I’m already amazed at what a difference it makes to have an extra set of hands here to help around the house.
Yesterday I actually had the freedom to give a solid chunk of the Lord’s day to ministry. I processed a huge pile of new materials for the church library—something I hadn’t had the energy or time to do since Claire was born. Starting next Sunday, many will begin benefiting from the new books, videos and tapes.
Berek arrived last Wednesday and started classes today. We’re so glad he’s here. I’m already amazed at what a difference it makes to have an extra set of hands here to help around the house.
Yesterday I actually had the freedom to give a solid chunk of the Lord’s day to ministry. I processed a huge pile of new materials for the church library—something I hadn’t had the energy or time to do since Claire was born. Starting next Sunday, many will begin benefiting from the new books, videos and tapes.
1.07.2003
Rum Tum Tugger
Mr. Keats (the wicked kitty) loves very much to go out onto our second-floor roof from our office on the third floor. But he just doesn't get the concept that the seasons change outdoors. Two days ago we got a light snow, but he sat by the door crying to be let out. Out he went, puzzled by this strange, cold, wet white stuff. Less than a minute later he wanted back in.
Today he sat crying by the door again.
"There's still snow out there, Keats," I told him.
Me-OW, Mee-ooow. (Translate: Let me OUT now!)
So I tossed him outside. His paws hit the snow and he immediately scurried back to the door, indignant.
"What had happened to the nice, warm place where I sun myself?" Walnut brain.
Mr. Keats (the wicked kitty) loves very much to go out onto our second-floor roof from our office on the third floor. But he just doesn't get the concept that the seasons change outdoors. Two days ago we got a light snow, but he sat by the door crying to be let out. Out he went, puzzled by this strange, cold, wet white stuff. Less than a minute later he wanted back in.
Today he sat crying by the door again.
"There's still snow out there, Keats," I told him.
Me-OW, Mee-ooow. (Translate: Let me OUT now!)
So I tossed him outside. His paws hit the snow and he immediately scurried back to the door, indignant.
"What had happened to the nice, warm place where I sun myself?" Walnut brain.
An editor's rant
Boy would I love to clobber the genius who got half the country to misuse the term consult. Last I checked, consult meant to seek advice or an opinion. Therefore, consultants to not consult their clients, but rather their clients consult them. Consultants (as well as attorneys, accountants, physicians and other such experts) in fact advise clients for a living. Is this really such a difficult concept?
Boy would I love to clobber the genius who got half the country to misuse the term consult. Last I checked, consult meant to seek advice or an opinion. Therefore, consultants to not consult their clients, but rather their clients consult them. Consultants (as well as attorneys, accountants, physicians and other such experts) in fact advise clients for a living. Is this really such a difficult concept?
1.04.2003
Just for the fun of it...
I've made up a really pointless quiz. Hey, it's one of those yawner Saturdays in January. The highlight of my day was walking the dog. Ooh boy.
1. What celebrities would you like to host at your home for dinner?
Emma Thompson and Wayne Brady, but not necessarily on the same night. ;-) Emma seems like a deep thinker and Wayne just makes me laugh until my sides ache.
2. If you could have your own TV or radio program, what would the content be?
A half-hour NPR radio program featuring percussion and percussionists :-)
3. If you could have any sci-fi technology at your disposal, what would you choose?
The Star Trek transporter. Never be late, and never pay shipping charges again!
4. If you had sufficient resources to start up a business, what would you do?
Publish a magazine for historic re-enactment weddings
5. If you could be an animal for a day, what would you choose and why?
A Canada goose. I could swim, fly and hang out with lots of friends.
6. When you were a kid, what careers did you aspire to?
A teacher, or a children's book writer like Madeleine L'Engle
7. What things terrified you as a child?
Fire, especially our burner barrell. Also clowns and creepy dolls.
8. What scenarios occur regularly in your dreams?
Chase dreams in which I discover I can fly, scary dreams involving aliens, performance anxiety dreams in which I have to play a band instrument I can't play, and mysterious dreams involving buildings with floor plans that change as you walk around in them
I've made up a really pointless quiz. Hey, it's one of those yawner Saturdays in January. The highlight of my day was walking the dog. Ooh boy.
1. What celebrities would you like to host at your home for dinner?
Emma Thompson and Wayne Brady, but not necessarily on the same night. ;-) Emma seems like a deep thinker and Wayne just makes me laugh until my sides ache.
2. If you could have your own TV or radio program, what would the content be?
A half-hour NPR radio program featuring percussion and percussionists :-)
3. If you could have any sci-fi technology at your disposal, what would you choose?
The Star Trek transporter. Never be late, and never pay shipping charges again!
4. If you had sufficient resources to start up a business, what would you do?
Publish a magazine for historic re-enactment weddings
5. If you could be an animal for a day, what would you choose and why?
A Canada goose. I could swim, fly and hang out with lots of friends.
6. When you were a kid, what careers did you aspire to?
A teacher, or a children's book writer like Madeleine L'Engle
7. What things terrified you as a child?
Fire, especially our burner barrell. Also clowns and creepy dolls.
8. What scenarios occur regularly in your dreams?
Chase dreams in which I discover I can fly, scary dreams involving aliens, performance anxiety dreams in which I have to play a band instrument I can't play, and mysterious dreams involving buildings with floor plans that change as you walk around in them
1.03.2003
Thought for food
I took a day off yesterday and got the rare opportunity to watch Oprah. The topic was building a weight loss plan that will work for you. “Lose weight” is one of the most common New Year’s resolutions that gets broken within days of January 1.
One of Oprah’s guests recommended getting at the root of why you eat the way you do before starting any program.
So, raise you hand if you are an emotional eater who eats to feel good.
Yup, that’s me. As I wrote in an earlier post, food was my dearest friend when we were having difficulty conceiving.
Ah, but it’s so much worse than that. I realize that I have several other major eating triggers:
--Boredom. It’s very easy to start munching at my desk when my workday is dull.
--Social awkwardness. At parties, I can hide my clumsiness at making small talk by keeping my mouth full.
--Scarcity mentality. This is my biggest Achilles’ heel. My parents grew up during the Depression and instilled the need to never waste anything. As a result, I have a hard time passing up free food when it is on offer.
I’ve made some good progress on overcoming the scarcity mentality the past few months, and did really well steering clear of the piles of goodies all over the office during the holidays. Addressing emotional eating will be the next hurdle.
This leads me to my blog question of the day: What is your favorite pick-me-up, feel-good activity other than eating?
I took a day off yesterday and got the rare opportunity to watch Oprah. The topic was building a weight loss plan that will work for you. “Lose weight” is one of the most common New Year’s resolutions that gets broken within days of January 1.
One of Oprah’s guests recommended getting at the root of why you eat the way you do before starting any program.
So, raise you hand if you are an emotional eater who eats to feel good.
Yup, that’s me. As I wrote in an earlier post, food was my dearest friend when we were having difficulty conceiving.
Ah, but it’s so much worse than that. I realize that I have several other major eating triggers:
--Boredom. It’s very easy to start munching at my desk when my workday is dull.
--Social awkwardness. At parties, I can hide my clumsiness at making small talk by keeping my mouth full.
--Scarcity mentality. This is my biggest Achilles’ heel. My parents grew up during the Depression and instilled the need to never waste anything. As a result, I have a hard time passing up free food when it is on offer.
I’ve made some good progress on overcoming the scarcity mentality the past few months, and did really well steering clear of the piles of goodies all over the office during the holidays. Addressing emotional eating will be the next hurdle.
This leads me to my blog question of the day: What is your favorite pick-me-up, feel-good activity other than eating?
12.30.2002
Uh-oh
My brother Jerry (the ELCA pastor) will be rubbing his hands in glee--the denomination selector put me as a Lutheran. Ack. :-)
Here are my results:
Not that Lutheranism is so bad, but I find it kind of annoying how hung up they are on their denominational distinctives. I really thought I would come out Episcopal or Reformed Churches as my top choices. If you could kick out the really wacky liberals, the Episcopalians have a lot of good things going for them. I attended a fabulous CRC church when I was taking courses at Michigan State in East Lansing. I'd have more fondness for my current denomination (PCA) if liturgical worship had made any inroads here in Philadelphian Presbyterianism. I'll save that particular gripe for another post. *sigh*
My brother Jerry (the ELCA pastor) will be rubbing his hands in glee--the denomination selector put me as a Lutheran. Ack. :-)
Here are my results:
- 1. Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod
2. Evangelical Lutheran Church
3. Church of Christ
4. Episcopal/Anglican Church
5. Presbyterian Church in America/Orthodox Presbyterian Church
6. Reformed Churches
7. Eastern Orthodox Church
8. International Church of Christ
9. Methodist/Weslyian Church
10. Assemblies of God
Not that Lutheranism is so bad, but I find it kind of annoying how hung up they are on their denominational distinctives. I really thought I would come out Episcopal or Reformed Churches as my top choices. If you could kick out the really wacky liberals, the Episcopalians have a lot of good things going for them. I attended a fabulous CRC church when I was taking courses at Michigan State in East Lansing. I'd have more fondness for my current denomination (PCA) if liturgical worship had made any inroads here in Philadelphian Presbyterianism. I'll save that particular gripe for another post. *sigh*
A disclaimer
While I've been blogging for over a year now, I don't think I've waxed theological more than about twice. The primary reason for this is not because I have no opinion, but because I am a big coward.
My husband is a hundred times more articulate than I will ever be regarding matters biblical, theological and philosophical. I've also met some very articulate blogging women like Barb and Sarah, whose opinions usually make me think, "Yeah, that's exactly right." I have a hard time believing I have anything worthwhile to add to the debate.
However, I do have a pretty unique perspective on many theological topics. My religious heritage is extremely mongrel. My mother was raised Roman Catholic, my father, nominal Methodist. My parents have been in six or seven denominations in their 55 years of marriage. I've been in the somewhat schizophrenic Christian Missionary Alliance, the Quaker-offshoot Evangelical Friends, the Southern Baptist Church, the Brethren in Christ, and have even explored Penecostal beliefs before I became involved in the PCA. My oldest brothers are ordained in the Canadian Anglican and Evangelical Lutheran churches. My sister is a charismatic who attends a Willow-Creek-style church and my third brother is a closet Baptist who attends a United Methodist church. Some probably see my backgound as a serious liability, but I think I simply have more colorful baggage than most.
Where has this circuitous route led me? I'm quite keen on liturgy, prayer book, paedobaptism, partial-preterism, and what some call "ecclesiocentrism." I know I have some kindred spirits out there, and some hidden opponents who are likely sharpening their knives right now.
With some serious trepidation, I will be sticking my toe in the pool a little in the coming months, in hopes that rather than lose phalanges to the sharks, the dolphins will invite me in to swim.
While I've been blogging for over a year now, I don't think I've waxed theological more than about twice. The primary reason for this is not because I have no opinion, but because I am a big coward.
My husband is a hundred times more articulate than I will ever be regarding matters biblical, theological and philosophical. I've also met some very articulate blogging women like Barb and Sarah, whose opinions usually make me think, "Yeah, that's exactly right." I have a hard time believing I have anything worthwhile to add to the debate.
However, I do have a pretty unique perspective on many theological topics. My religious heritage is extremely mongrel. My mother was raised Roman Catholic, my father, nominal Methodist. My parents have been in six or seven denominations in their 55 years of marriage. I've been in the somewhat schizophrenic Christian Missionary Alliance, the Quaker-offshoot Evangelical Friends, the Southern Baptist Church, the Brethren in Christ, and have even explored Penecostal beliefs before I became involved in the PCA. My oldest brothers are ordained in the Canadian Anglican and Evangelical Lutheran churches. My sister is a charismatic who attends a Willow-Creek-style church and my third brother is a closet Baptist who attends a United Methodist church. Some probably see my backgound as a serious liability, but I think I simply have more colorful baggage than most.
Where has this circuitous route led me? I'm quite keen on liturgy, prayer book, paedobaptism, partial-preterism, and what some call "ecclesiocentrism." I know I have some kindred spirits out there, and some hidden opponents who are likely sharpening their knives right now.
With some serious trepidation, I will be sticking my toe in the pool a little in the coming months, in hopes that rather than lose phalanges to the sharks, the dolphins will invite me in to swim.
12.29.2002
For fun
Here's another of my poems, this one previously published in About Such Things, spring 1997 issue.
Gilbert
My friend Gilbert
had the kind of face
you'd see on milk cartons
on rainy Thursday mornings
that puddle in your brain
without a grain of sense
or purpose but dripdrip drip.
Gil played games
that brought down bullies
to less than larger-than-life
lugs we could look in the eye
and not cringe.
Gil's games
made emperors of roaches
and elf queens of
bucktoothed, freckled girls
that are good at math
and can't sing.
Gil thought thoughts
that entered me like
garlic and permeated blood
and lungs and skin,
reeking and lusty of life,
lingering in the pores
for days.
copyright L. J. Webster, 1997
Here's another of my poems, this one previously published in About Such Things, spring 1997 issue.
Gilbert
My friend Gilbert
had the kind of face
you'd see on milk cartons
on rainy Thursday mornings
that puddle in your brain
without a grain of sense
or purpose but dripdrip drip.
Gil played games
that brought down bullies
to less than larger-than-life
lugs we could look in the eye
and not cringe.
Gil's games
made emperors of roaches
and elf queens of
bucktoothed, freckled girls
that are good at math
and can't sing.
Gil thought thoughts
that entered me like
garlic and permeated blood
and lungs and skin,
reeking and lusty of life,
lingering in the pores
for days.
copyright L. J. Webster, 1997
12.28.2002
Blogger day
Today Joel and Claire and I drove down to Baltimore for a blogger get together at Valerie's place. It was really an enjoyable time--thanks again, Valerie! In addition to meeting our lovely hostess for the first time, we also met Sarah G. (but not Bailey :-( ), Brian D., Paulo O. and Daniel S. It was the second time I'd met Daniel, but the first time meeting everyone else.
My big surprise was to discover that Sarah and I are nearly the same height. I thought she would be really short after seeing a photo of her and Duane on his site. But no, it's simply the case that Duane is a giant. ;-)
It is kind of a strange experience to meet in person people you've followed online for a while, I must admit. First, it's easy to have a skewed picture of their personalities because the online medium doesn't allow you to experience others' mannerisms, voice tone, etc. that convey so much when we communicate in person. Second, there's a certain level of "I know you, but I don't know you" weirdness to get past. I'm really glad to have had the opportunity, though. I think I will read their blogs differently now, with a genuine voice and face behind each.
Today Joel and Claire and I drove down to Baltimore for a blogger get together at Valerie's place. It was really an enjoyable time--thanks again, Valerie! In addition to meeting our lovely hostess for the first time, we also met Sarah G. (but not Bailey :-( ), Brian D., Paulo O. and Daniel S. It was the second time I'd met Daniel, but the first time meeting everyone else.
My big surprise was to discover that Sarah and I are nearly the same height. I thought she would be really short after seeing a photo of her and Duane on his site. But no, it's simply the case that Duane is a giant. ;-)
It is kind of a strange experience to meet in person people you've followed online for a while, I must admit. First, it's easy to have a skewed picture of their personalities because the online medium doesn't allow you to experience others' mannerisms, voice tone, etc. that convey so much when we communicate in person. Second, there's a certain level of "I know you, but I don't know you" weirdness to get past. I'm really glad to have had the opportunity, though. I think I will read their blogs differently now, with a genuine voice and face behind each.
12.27.2002
Remembering...teen angst
I've been listening to a "best of" Toto collection and it struck me that the tunes I liked best from this group were the really depressing ones. Here's a really uplifing example:
If I had another chance tonight
I'd try to tell you that the things we had were right
Time can erase the love we shared
But it gives me time to realize just how much you cared
Now you're gone, I'm really not the same
I guess I held myself to blame
Time can erase the things we said
But it gives me time to realize that you're the one who's sad
You know I won't hold you back now
The love we had just can't be found
You know I can't hold you back now
Now that I'm alone it gives me time
To think about the years that you were mine
Time can erase the love we shared
But it gives me time to realize just how much you cared
Yeah, it's pretty pedestrian as poetry goes. I often wonder why bleak stuff was so appealing to me as a teen. I wasn't a Goth externally, but I did tend to sit around writing dreck like Winona Rider's character in Beetlejuice..."I am alone. I am so utterly alone."
Ah, but I also really liked Devo, the Dr. Demento radio show and doing extremely weird things like walking with friends around neighborhood streets, with flashlights, in pairs, pretending to be cars. Or breaking into a cemetery to eat pizza with the dead.
Hmm. It must be small town life that makes one alternately depressive and loony.
I've been listening to a "best of" Toto collection and it struck me that the tunes I liked best from this group were the really depressing ones. Here's a really uplifing example:
If I had another chance tonight
I'd try to tell you that the things we had were right
Time can erase the love we shared
But it gives me time to realize just how much you cared
Now you're gone, I'm really not the same
I guess I held myself to blame
Time can erase the things we said
But it gives me time to realize that you're the one who's sad
You know I won't hold you back now
The love we had just can't be found
You know I can't hold you back now
Now that I'm alone it gives me time
To think about the years that you were mine
Time can erase the love we shared
But it gives me time to realize just how much you cared
Yeah, it's pretty pedestrian as poetry goes. I often wonder why bleak stuff was so appealing to me as a teen. I wasn't a Goth externally, but I did tend to sit around writing dreck like Winona Rider's character in Beetlejuice..."I am alone. I am so utterly alone."
Ah, but I also really liked Devo, the Dr. Demento radio show and doing extremely weird things like walking with friends around neighborhood streets, with flashlights, in pairs, pretending to be cars. Or breaking into a cemetery to eat pizza with the dead.
Hmm. It must be small town life that makes one alternately depressive and loony.
Post-Christmas slump
The first few days after Christmas with the Garvers is like coming down off of a big sugar high. As one of five kids, I am very unaccustomed to the extravagant gift-giving that goes on with my husband's family on Christmas Eve. By the next day I usually feel as overwhelmed and cranky as any toddler would under the circumstances. I suppose I should have expected as much marrying an only child.
Not that I'm not grateful to be a recipient of his parents' generosity. I just have trouble processing the sensory overload. Our solution to keep Claire on even-keel was to buy her very little ourselves: one book, one toy and two outfits. We gave her the toy Christmas morning. The clothing went quietly into her closet. We inscribed the book and put it in her bookcase. Next year, when she will be more aware of what's going on, I think we'll have to work something out with Joel's folks to spread out the gift opening over several days or something like that.
They certainly do have good taste. Claire got lots and lots of books, some beautiful clothes and the coolest toy ever, Music Blocks. It enables kids to compose music. Each block plays a different musical phrase, and each block can play one of six different instrumental sounds, depending on which side is up. You switch in different base casettes--Bach, Mozart or Jazz, for instance--to get a variety of music phrases and instruments. We were all having a ball playing with it.
Speaking of balls, Nicky surprised us Christmas morning by fetching a kitty tennis ball that Keats got in his stocking. Our previous attempts to teach him to fetch anything had been fruitless. Whenever we threw a ball or stick, he would just look at us, head tilted, as if to say, "Huh? Whatcha doin"?" (Well, he is a husky mix, bred for pulling sleds, not a retreiver.) Wednesday morning, Joel tossed the ball to Keats, and Nicky caught it in mid-air and brought it back. Will wonders never cease?
The first few days after Christmas with the Garvers is like coming down off of a big sugar high. As one of five kids, I am very unaccustomed to the extravagant gift-giving that goes on with my husband's family on Christmas Eve. By the next day I usually feel as overwhelmed and cranky as any toddler would under the circumstances. I suppose I should have expected as much marrying an only child.
Not that I'm not grateful to be a recipient of his parents' generosity. I just have trouble processing the sensory overload. Our solution to keep Claire on even-keel was to buy her very little ourselves: one book, one toy and two outfits. We gave her the toy Christmas morning. The clothing went quietly into her closet. We inscribed the book and put it in her bookcase. Next year, when she will be more aware of what's going on, I think we'll have to work something out with Joel's folks to spread out the gift opening over several days or something like that.
They certainly do have good taste. Claire got lots and lots of books, some beautiful clothes and the coolest toy ever, Music Blocks. It enables kids to compose music. Each block plays a different musical phrase, and each block can play one of six different instrumental sounds, depending on which side is up. You switch in different base casettes--Bach, Mozart or Jazz, for instance--to get a variety of music phrases and instruments. We were all having a ball playing with it.
Speaking of balls, Nicky surprised us Christmas morning by fetching a kitty tennis ball that Keats got in his stocking. Our previous attempts to teach him to fetch anything had been fruitless. Whenever we threw a ball or stick, he would just look at us, head tilted, as if to say, "Huh? Whatcha doin"?" (Well, he is a husky mix, bred for pulling sleds, not a retreiver.) Wednesday morning, Joel tossed the ball to Keats, and Nicky caught it in mid-air and brought it back. Will wonders never cease?
12.24.2002
Let's name baby Horne!
Mark and Jenn are being so hush-hush about their name choices for their fourth child; do you think they've picked something yet? Joel and I were discussing this last night. They need a name for their daughter that will fit with her siblings' names. The boys, Calvin and Nevin, are named after theologians. And Evangeline is a Bible-based name. We also noticed that all three of them have a "V" in their name. So here are some suggestions that we came up with:
Our top choices
Devorah (Deborah)
Geneva
Olivia (peaceful)
Vivian/Vivienne (life, lively)
Second tier
Davita (fem. of David)
Eve
Rivkah (Rebecca)
Names with V that aren't Biblical
Sylvia (forest maiden)
Evelyn (pleasant)
Averill (April)
Ivy
Avery (ruler of elves)
So let's hear your vote. What name would you pick to complete this set: Calvin, Nevin, Evangeline and _______?
Mark and Jenn are being so hush-hush about their name choices for their fourth child; do you think they've picked something yet? Joel and I were discussing this last night. They need a name for their daughter that will fit with her siblings' names. The boys, Calvin and Nevin, are named after theologians. And Evangeline is a Bible-based name. We also noticed that all three of them have a "V" in their name. So here are some suggestions that we came up with:
Our top choices
Devorah (Deborah)
Geneva
Olivia (peaceful)
Vivian/Vivienne (life, lively)
Second tier
Davita (fem. of David)
Eve
Rivkah (Rebecca)
Names with V that aren't Biblical
Sylvia (forest maiden)
Evelyn (pleasant)
Averill (April)
Ivy
Avery (ruler of elves)
So let's hear your vote. What name would you pick to complete this set: Calvin, Nevin, Evangeline and _______?
12.22.2002
Nuptial fashion
Okay gals, after so many requests, here are a few photos from my wedding. Since we don't have a scanner, we took digital photos of photos, so these aren't the best possible quality....
Here I am with my two attendants. All of our dresses are based on the same pattern, an 1809 "Daywear" dress. My sister's (red) sticks to the basic pattern. My matron of honor's dress (green) was modified to be a maternity dress. Sylvia was about 6 months pregnant here. My dress has a collar added, an overskirt of lace, and a cape sort of train with thin straps that went over each arm. The train is based on fashion plates from ladies' magazines of the era.
Here's a photo taken in natural light. You can see the straps to the train in this shot, though they are intended to kind of blend into the bodice of the dress itself.
Here's a back shot of the train. The ribbon roses were a sort of '90s touch I'd seen in bridal magazines. Georgian-era dresses would have just had elaborate trim or braid around all the edges.
Here comes the bride.... Can you tell I am much happier to be here than Dad is? This shot shows off the lace really well. I'd seen a Georgian dress in a museum with nearly this same pattern embroidered on it.
An obligatory cake-cutting shot. Joel and the guys (p-duggie and my brother) wore morning coats, striped pants, vests, ascots and shirts with the collars folded high. It was the closest we could approximate. Authentic menswear of the era would have meant shorter vests and pants that button up to bottom of the ribs.
And here's the infamous check-writing photo. :-)
Okay gals, after so many requests, here are a few photos from my wedding. Since we don't have a scanner, we took digital photos of photos, so these aren't the best possible quality....
Here I am with my two attendants. All of our dresses are based on the same pattern, an 1809 "Daywear" dress. My sister's (red) sticks to the basic pattern. My matron of honor's dress (green) was modified to be a maternity dress. Sylvia was about 6 months pregnant here. My dress has a collar added, an overskirt of lace, and a cape sort of train with thin straps that went over each arm. The train is based on fashion plates from ladies' magazines of the era.
Here's a photo taken in natural light. You can see the straps to the train in this shot, though they are intended to kind of blend into the bodice of the dress itself.
Here's a back shot of the train. The ribbon roses were a sort of '90s touch I'd seen in bridal magazines. Georgian-era dresses would have just had elaborate trim or braid around all the edges.
Here comes the bride.... Can you tell I am much happier to be here than Dad is? This shot shows off the lace really well. I'd seen a Georgian dress in a museum with nearly this same pattern embroidered on it.
An obligatory cake-cutting shot. Joel and the guys (p-duggie and my brother) wore morning coats, striped pants, vests, ascots and shirts with the collars folded high. It was the closest we could approximate. Authentic menswear of the era would have meant shorter vests and pants that button up to bottom of the ribs.
And here's the infamous check-writing photo. :-)
12.20.2002
Two Towers…some initial gut-reactions
Last night, Joel and I got a sitter and went on a real date for our anniversary. We had dinner out and saw the Two Towers.
While the Fellowship of the Ring film exceeded my expectations in every way, I think Two Towers is more of a mixed bag.
First, the positive. The film’s portrayal of evil, of an overwhelming malign will bent on destruction, is unparalleled. In fact, as the Helm’s Deep situation began to unfold, I had to flee to the ladies’ room for a breather. I sat in a stall, crossed myself and recited parts of the Breastplate of St. Patrick, “Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.…” I clung to Joel’s arm and trembled when the first waves of Orcs attacked Helm’s Deep. It is a terrifying scene in the extreme.
Gimli is just fantastic in this film. He adds a lot of heart and much-needed levity at just the right moments. And Golem is a wonder to behold. He is indeed pitiable and loathesome at the same time—and what a range of emotion and facial expressions from a computer-animated character!
The new heartthrob du jour? Definitely Faramir. He makes Aragorn look like a scruffy ruffian and Eomer, an 80’s metal band flunkie. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing a whole lot more of him on screen (as in more time, nothing naughty!) :-) Lucky, Lucky Eowyn! Boy is she in for a big treat in the next film.
The Ents…well, they were mostly really cool. When viewed up close, they are every bit the ancient, mighty, crush-everything-in-your-path kind of heroic beings. They just seemed a bit too willowy and fragile when viewed at a distance. In the scene where they ravage Saruman’s stronghold, I kept wavering between, “Yeah! Go Ents, go!” and “Oh, dear, will the poor Ents be okay?”
My big disappointment was Rohan. This is my “most favoritest” part of Middle Earth, and Jackson’s vision didn’t quite measure up to my expectations. In part, that’s because he got Hobbiton so dead-on. Why weren’t the villages, and Edoras in particular, surrounded by herds of grazing horses? These are supposed to be the horse lords! And where are the stables? I was expecting big, elaborate stable complexes in Edoras. Also, the people all seem like a bunch of extras. I didn’t have a sense that there was a cohesive culture, with commerce and other signs of daily life going on in the towns.
My other big hang up was the scene inside the armory at Helm’s Deep when Aragorn and Legolas converse. Suddenly, I’m no longer looking at a green-eyed elf, but Orlando Bloom’s naked brown eyes! What the heck? Why would Jackson the detail guru let Bloom be filmed with the wrong eye color, then let that take make it into the final print? Joel thinks it’s a deliberate gaffe to see if anyone noticed.
Now I have to watch the film again, so see if there are other such gaffes! :-)
Last night, Joel and I got a sitter and went on a real date for our anniversary. We had dinner out and saw the Two Towers.
While the Fellowship of the Ring film exceeded my expectations in every way, I think Two Towers is more of a mixed bag.
First, the positive. The film’s portrayal of evil, of an overwhelming malign will bent on destruction, is unparalleled. In fact, as the Helm’s Deep situation began to unfold, I had to flee to the ladies’ room for a breather. I sat in a stall, crossed myself and recited parts of the Breastplate of St. Patrick, “Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.…” I clung to Joel’s arm and trembled when the first waves of Orcs attacked Helm’s Deep. It is a terrifying scene in the extreme.
Gimli is just fantastic in this film. He adds a lot of heart and much-needed levity at just the right moments. And Golem is a wonder to behold. He is indeed pitiable and loathesome at the same time—and what a range of emotion and facial expressions from a computer-animated character!
The new heartthrob du jour? Definitely Faramir. He makes Aragorn look like a scruffy ruffian and Eomer, an 80’s metal band flunkie. I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing a whole lot more of him on screen (as in more time, nothing naughty!) :-) Lucky, Lucky Eowyn! Boy is she in for a big treat in the next film.
The Ents…well, they were mostly really cool. When viewed up close, they are every bit the ancient, mighty, crush-everything-in-your-path kind of heroic beings. They just seemed a bit too willowy and fragile when viewed at a distance. In the scene where they ravage Saruman’s stronghold, I kept wavering between, “Yeah! Go Ents, go!” and “Oh, dear, will the poor Ents be okay?”
My big disappointment was Rohan. This is my “most favoritest” part of Middle Earth, and Jackson’s vision didn’t quite measure up to my expectations. In part, that’s because he got Hobbiton so dead-on. Why weren’t the villages, and Edoras in particular, surrounded by herds of grazing horses? These are supposed to be the horse lords! And where are the stables? I was expecting big, elaborate stable complexes in Edoras. Also, the people all seem like a bunch of extras. I didn’t have a sense that there was a cohesive culture, with commerce and other signs of daily life going on in the towns.
My other big hang up was the scene inside the armory at Helm’s Deep when Aragorn and Legolas converse. Suddenly, I’m no longer looking at a green-eyed elf, but Orlando Bloom’s naked brown eyes! What the heck? Why would Jackson the detail guru let Bloom be filmed with the wrong eye color, then let that take make it into the final print? Joel thinks it’s a deliberate gaffe to see if anyone noticed.
Now I have to watch the film again, so see if there are other such gaffes! :-)
12.19.2002
Four years ago today...
I head off for my 9 a.m. hair appointment. One hour, 30 hot rollers and 80 hairpins later, my shoulder-length hair is transformed into a lovely array of curls piled on the back of my head. But alas, I now must drive back to the apartment in my headpiece and veil. Why didn't I drag Mom along? Okay, I must be sitting on my veil, because I can't turn my head to check for oncoming traffic. Grr. Okay, through that intersection. Gosh, people are honking and waving as they pass me...
Mom is still pressing her dress when I get back. I'm feeling stir crazy. I haven't packed for the honeymoon yet. Where is that list of phone numbers I gathered for my sis-in-law? Where is the knife and cake server? My engagement ring is dirty! Ack! Ack! Ack!
Mom heads off to collect my sister and niece from a friend's house. Dad helps me load my gown and other items into the car. I expect his usual softie side to come pouring out on the drive into the city, but no, he is clinging to the car's hand grip in white-knuckled terror. "Do you have to drive so fast?" he asks. I'm going 40 mph. Dad hates the city.
Since I'm stuck in the veil, I have to hide from Joel all morning. My matron of honor acts as my spy. When the coast is clear, I head downstairs to dress. I really wanted to help set things up, but friends and relatives shoo me away.
I'm trying to write a check for the caterer with wet nails when the photographer arrives. She snaps a shot of me in this crazy position.
We go up to the sanctuary to start taking photos. When I appear, my friends who make up a little vocal ensemble stop their practice to whistle and hoot. "It's Elizabeth Bennett! No! Emma Woodhouse!" I smile and blush. I do feel just like an Austen heroine in my tafetta, satin and lace, fashioned after an 1809 dress pattern.
I can't wait to see Joel.
I head off for my 9 a.m. hair appointment. One hour, 30 hot rollers and 80 hairpins later, my shoulder-length hair is transformed into a lovely array of curls piled on the back of my head. But alas, I now must drive back to the apartment in my headpiece and veil. Why didn't I drag Mom along? Okay, I must be sitting on my veil, because I can't turn my head to check for oncoming traffic. Grr. Okay, through that intersection. Gosh, people are honking and waving as they pass me...
Mom is still pressing her dress when I get back. I'm feeling stir crazy. I haven't packed for the honeymoon yet. Where is that list of phone numbers I gathered for my sis-in-law? Where is the knife and cake server? My engagement ring is dirty! Ack! Ack! Ack!
Mom heads off to collect my sister and niece from a friend's house. Dad helps me load my gown and other items into the car. I expect his usual softie side to come pouring out on the drive into the city, but no, he is clinging to the car's hand grip in white-knuckled terror. "Do you have to drive so fast?" he asks. I'm going 40 mph. Dad hates the city.
Since I'm stuck in the veil, I have to hide from Joel all morning. My matron of honor acts as my spy. When the coast is clear, I head downstairs to dress. I really wanted to help set things up, but friends and relatives shoo me away.
I'm trying to write a check for the caterer with wet nails when the photographer arrives. She snaps a shot of me in this crazy position.
We go up to the sanctuary to start taking photos. When I appear, my friends who make up a little vocal ensemble stop their practice to whistle and hoot. "It's Elizabeth Bennett! No! Emma Woodhouse!" I smile and blush. I do feel just like an Austen heroine in my tafetta, satin and lace, fashioned after an 1809 dress pattern.
I can't wait to see Joel.
12.18.2002
At last
I've finally dropped a few more pounds of pregnancy weight after a two month plateau. Just five more pounds to go.
Of course, after that I need address the extra pounds gained from a rigorous round of ice cream therapy for infertility. And yes, thank you, ice cream therapy did work for me! :-)
I've finally dropped a few more pounds of pregnancy weight after a two month plateau. Just five more pounds to go.
Of course, after that I need address the extra pounds gained from a rigorous round of ice cream therapy for infertility. And yes, thank you, ice cream therapy did work for me! :-)
12.16.2002
Holiday greetings
We just finished stuffing and mailing our Christmas cards. We usually include a little holiday newsletter--a tradition I started when I was single. Back then the publication was called "Laurel's Leaves," now it's the "Garver Gazette." We post an expanded version online. Click here to view.
We just finished stuffing and mailing our Christmas cards. We usually include a little holiday newsletter--a tradition I started when I was single. Back then the publication was called "Laurel's Leaves," now it's the "Garver Gazette." We post an expanded version online. Click here to view.
12.14.2002
Template update
I asked Joel to update my blog template so that visitors don't have to scroll down to start reading entries. He decided to "celt-ify" it too by adding the knotwork backgound, since I am a big fan of Irish music. I told him that if he added horseshoes and quill pens among the knots he would just about have me wrapped up. But that would be really ugly. ;-)
I asked Joel to update my blog template so that visitors don't have to scroll down to start reading entries. He decided to "celt-ify" it too by adding the knotwork backgound, since I am a big fan of Irish music. I told him that if he added horseshoes and quill pens among the knots he would just about have me wrapped up. But that would be really ugly. ;-)
Shingles club
Wow, people seem to be coming out in droves to proclaim they have had shingles as a young person. This was once considered an elderly people disease. I wonder if our disinfected, vaccinated world is making us more suceptible to this type of auto-immune problem. I have a genetic predisposition of immune weakness to varicella and zoster. My grandmother had zoster 5 or 6 times in her lifetime.
Anyone in addition to Annie, Mark and me in the shingles club?
Wow, people seem to be coming out in droves to proclaim they have had shingles as a young person. This was once considered an elderly people disease. I wonder if our disinfected, vaccinated world is making us more suceptible to this type of auto-immune problem. I have a genetic predisposition of immune weakness to varicella and zoster. My grandmother had zoster 5 or 6 times in her lifetime.
Anyone in addition to Annie, Mark and me in the shingles club?
12.12.2002
A shot or not a shot?
So, President Bush thinks the general public should begin being immunized for smallpox. That sounds like such fun. Aren't you eager to rush to your doctor to be stabbed repeatedly in the arm with a bifurcated needle, then be sick for 2-3 weeks, and possibly get a mild form of the disease?
We're publishing an article on the smallpox vaccine in the magazine I work for. Trying to find illustations was really fun. The CDC has all kinds of pretty photos of people who spread the virus to themselves by scratching the injection site. Tapioca skin. Mmm. Lovely.
I now know I'm in a high risk group for complications from the vaccine because I've already had herpes zoster (shingles) twice, at age 5 and age 26. So I certainly won't be storming my doctor's office to volunteer.
What's your opinion? Get the shot or not?
So, President Bush thinks the general public should begin being immunized for smallpox. That sounds like such fun. Aren't you eager to rush to your doctor to be stabbed repeatedly in the arm with a bifurcated needle, then be sick for 2-3 weeks, and possibly get a mild form of the disease?
We're publishing an article on the smallpox vaccine in the magazine I work for. Trying to find illustations was really fun. The CDC has all kinds of pretty photos of people who spread the virus to themselves by scratching the injection site. Tapioca skin. Mmm. Lovely.
I now know I'm in a high risk group for complications from the vaccine because I've already had herpes zoster (shingles) twice, at age 5 and age 26. So I certainly won't be storming my doctor's office to volunteer.
What's your opinion? Get the shot or not?
12.10.2002
Labeling laws
I think the obstetricians and pediatricians should get together to develop warning labels for babies:
WARNING
The cute neonate you are about to receive is an effective biological weapon that can and will spread numerous, very contagious, viral and bacterial pathogens to you and members of your immediate family. Kiss and cuddle at your own risk.
Okay, so I'm less than thrilled to be recovering from my second cold in less than three weeks. Joel is also now sick.
Thanks for sharing, Claire. What a giving kid. *sigh*
I think the obstetricians and pediatricians should get together to develop warning labels for babies:
WARNING
The cute neonate you are about to receive is an effective biological weapon that can and will spread numerous, very contagious, viral and bacterial pathogens to you and members of your immediate family. Kiss and cuddle at your own risk.
Okay, so I'm less than thrilled to be recovering from my second cold in less than three weeks. Joel is also now sick.
Thanks for sharing, Claire. What a giving kid. *sigh*
12.09.2002
Another survey
From Valerie
1. Which blogger have you known longest online only?
Jenn H. (Jenn's blog) We started e-mailing over two years ago, before either of us had blogs.
2. Which blogger have you known longest IRL?
Paul D. (Hierogrammate). We met 9 years ago, when I was logistics coordinator on the singles' group retreat committee and he volunteered to help us.
No wait, I've known Jonathan F. (Great Scot) even longer. We met in August 1986, when we were freshmen at Messiah College.
3. Which blogger have you spent the most time with IRL?
Joel (Sacra doctrina)--it's hard to avoid when you're married.
4. Which blogger would you most like to meet IRL (that you haven’t met IRL)?
Jenn (Jenn's blog). She has been a very supportive friend over the past few years. We also went to the same college and have many other things in common.
5. Which blogger do you think has the best blog design?
Joel (Sacra doctrina). I really love the photo. (Probably because I took it. Hee hee.) I really like Kristen's site (In the Shadowlands) too. Nice art, easy to navigate, excellent continuity of design.
6. Which blogger do you like most to argue with?
I'm generally not fond of arguing.
7. Which blogger makes you laugh the most?
Duane (Amber Bach). His humor is very reminiscent of my goofy brother Steve, who kept me laughing through a difficult childhood.
8. Which blogger intimidates you the most?
Emeth (Emeth Hesed Smith). She speaks several languages fluently, knows HTML and is very articulate and accomplished for her young age. I'm also very, very intimidated by SAHMs (though I'm not naming any names), mostly because I worry that they think I am evil for being an employed mom.
9. Which blogger do you most wish would post more often?
Wayne (Carrifex). Ah, but wait, he seems to be making up for lost time now!
10. Which blogger do you most wish would get a comment system?
Jonathan F. (Great Scot). I'd love to ask him questions about his life in Taiwan that he is carefully chronicling.
From Valerie
1. Which blogger have you known longest online only?
Jenn H. (Jenn's blog) We started e-mailing over two years ago, before either of us had blogs.
2. Which blogger have you known longest IRL?
Paul D. (Hierogrammate). We met 9 years ago, when I was logistics coordinator on the singles' group retreat committee and he volunteered to help us.
No wait, I've known Jonathan F. (Great Scot) even longer. We met in August 1986, when we were freshmen at Messiah College.
3. Which blogger have you spent the most time with IRL?
Joel (Sacra doctrina)--it's hard to avoid when you're married.
4. Which blogger would you most like to meet IRL (that you haven’t met IRL)?
Jenn (Jenn's blog). She has been a very supportive friend over the past few years. We also went to the same college and have many other things in common.
5. Which blogger do you think has the best blog design?
Joel (Sacra doctrina). I really love the photo. (Probably because I took it. Hee hee.) I really like Kristen's site (In the Shadowlands) too. Nice art, easy to navigate, excellent continuity of design.
6. Which blogger do you like most to argue with?
I'm generally not fond of arguing.
7. Which blogger makes you laugh the most?
Duane (Amber Bach). His humor is very reminiscent of my goofy brother Steve, who kept me laughing through a difficult childhood.
8. Which blogger intimidates you the most?
Emeth (Emeth Hesed Smith). She speaks several languages fluently, knows HTML and is very articulate and accomplished for her young age. I'm also very, very intimidated by SAHMs (though I'm not naming any names), mostly because I worry that they think I am evil for being an employed mom.
9. Which blogger do you most wish would post more often?
Wayne (Carrifex). Ah, but wait, he seems to be making up for lost time now!
10. Which blogger do you most wish would get a comment system?
Jonathan F. (Great Scot). I'd love to ask him questions about his life in Taiwan that he is carefully chronicling.
12.06.2002
For Barb: a holiday ditty
(To the tune of "White Christmas")
I'm dreaming of a blood-bay Hanoverian
Who does the horse-ballet, dressage.
In his equine toe-shoes,
He does some smooth moves
And makes the judges gasp in awe.
I'm dreaming of a blood-bay Hanoverian
And as I while away the hours
I yearn for ribbons and trophies and flowers
And the Olympic team relying on my powers.
(To the tune of "White Christmas")
I'm dreaming of a blood-bay Hanoverian
Who does the horse-ballet, dressage.
In his equine toe-shoes,
He does some smooth moves
And makes the judges gasp in awe.
I'm dreaming of a blood-bay Hanoverian
And as I while away the hours
I yearn for ribbons and trophies and flowers
And the Olympic team relying on my powers.
12.05.2002
Just what I need...a stylin' time machine
What's Your Movie Dream Car?
by Auto Glass America
I especially like the idea of never being late again!
Thanks to Valerie for this link.
What's Your Movie Dream Car?
by Auto Glass America
I especially like the idea of never being late again!
Thanks to Valerie for this link.
12.04.2002
Travel tips?
Yesterday I bought my plane tickets for Florida. I'm heading south with Claire for my mom's 75th birthday in February. I also want Dad to get a chance to meet Claire while he is still mostly lucid. His dementia is getting pretty bad and I suspect that by spring he will need to move over to the skilled nursing building in their retirement community.
I'm frankly pretty nervous about getting around airports with Claire and her gear by myself. The flight down is nonstop, and I'll have to change planes in Charlotte, N.C. on the way home.
Mom is going to borrow a travel crib and maybe even a car seat. I'm debating whether to take our Metrolite stroller (15 lbs.) or the cheapo umbrella stroller (about 9 lbs.).
Any of you seasoned parents have travel tips for flying with a 5 1/2 month old?
Yesterday I bought my plane tickets for Florida. I'm heading south with Claire for my mom's 75th birthday in February. I also want Dad to get a chance to meet Claire while he is still mostly lucid. His dementia is getting pretty bad and I suspect that by spring he will need to move over to the skilled nursing building in their retirement community.
I'm frankly pretty nervous about getting around airports with Claire and her gear by myself. The flight down is nonstop, and I'll have to change planes in Charlotte, N.C. on the way home.
Mom is going to borrow a travel crib and maybe even a car seat. I'm debating whether to take our Metrolite stroller (15 lbs.) or the cheapo umbrella stroller (about 9 lbs.).
Any of you seasoned parents have travel tips for flying with a 5 1/2 month old?
12.03.2002
A relative-ly fun Thanksgiving
For the first time in quite a while, I got to see all three of my brothers on a holiday weekend.
We spent Thanksgiving with my brother Jerry in Souderton, Pa., where he pastors a Lutheran Church. The next day we drove to Fredericksburg, Va. to stay a few days with my brother Steve, who is an engineer. Our oldest brother Tom, an Episcopal priest, came up from North Carolina to see us and meet Claire. (Yes, I have brothers named Tom and Jerry. They were born prior to the cartoon, but during the years my parents were into cocktail culture. A Tom and Jerry is apparently a kind of alcoholic punch.)
My niece and nephew, who are 8 and 10, took quite a shine to their new cousin. Claire actually laughed out loud for the first time while there, she had so much fun playing.
A highlight of the trip for me was a visit to Scrapdoodles, a scrapbooker's dream store. I didn't go too hog wild, though it was tempting. I can't wait to play with my new papers, punches and stickers! Anyone want to come babysit so that I can make scrapbooks?
For the first time in quite a while, I got to see all three of my brothers on a holiday weekend.
We spent Thanksgiving with my brother Jerry in Souderton, Pa., where he pastors a Lutheran Church. The next day we drove to Fredericksburg, Va. to stay a few days with my brother Steve, who is an engineer. Our oldest brother Tom, an Episcopal priest, came up from North Carolina to see us and meet Claire. (Yes, I have brothers named Tom and Jerry. They were born prior to the cartoon, but during the years my parents were into cocktail culture. A Tom and Jerry is apparently a kind of alcoholic punch.)
My niece and nephew, who are 8 and 10, took quite a shine to their new cousin. Claire actually laughed out loud for the first time while there, she had so much fun playing.
A highlight of the trip for me was a visit to Scrapdoodles, a scrapbooker's dream store. I didn't go too hog wild, though it was tempting. I can't wait to play with my new papers, punches and stickers! Anyone want to come babysit so that I can make scrapbooks?
12.02.2002
Quiz answers
I patiently waited, but only got 18 takers for my friendship quiz. I closed the quiz this morning. Here are the promised answers.
1. My maiden name is...Webster
That’s right, I’m a genuine D.A.R. My ancestors, which include the colonial governor of Connecticut, have been in America since the 1600s. Lexicographer Noah Webster is a distant cousin. My branch of the family moved steadily west over six generations and eventually settled in Montana.
2. In high school band, I played... Xylophone, bells, chimes, marimba, vibraphone, cymbals and tympani
Thanks to a student teacher who borrowed instruments from his university, I got the opportunity to play the more exotic end of mallet percussion during concert season. I was beginning to learn four mallet technique my senior year.
If you’ve ever watched the percussionists at a band or symphony concert, you know it’s a crazy dance for us, switching among as many as six instruments in one piece of music. Some other instruments in my repertoire include bass drum, cowbell, finger cymbals, tambourine, triangle, claves, cabasa, duck call and brake drum (as in the car part, played with brass mallets).
3. My best subject in high school was…social studies
I won an award at graduation for the highest academic average in this subject. The only Cs I ever received were in phys ed. I never took Latin, and if you recall my post on lab blunders, you'd know chem lab was not my strong suit.
4. In college, my extracurricular activities were...theatre, music ministry and literary magazine
Since I didn’t own an instrument, band wasn’t an option in college. I did, however, keep up the tendency to overextend myself in extracurricular activities.
5. My favorite movie is…Amadeus
Humor, intrigue and fantastic music…who could ask for anything more?
Emma is in my top 10. Waking Life is one of the most incoherent pieces of pseudo-philosophical dreck I've yet endured. Hunt for Red October was ok, but not something I'd watch repeatedly.
6. My favorite author is…Susan Howatch
Her Starbridge novels are totally addicting and her psychological approach is far more readable than Henry James’. (I’m surprised that some of you actually thought I liked trashy Danielle Steele novels. Egads.)
7. What advanced degree do I have? MJ, Master of Journalism
Creative writing was a good guess, since I did study writing at the graduate level at Michigan State for several terms. (It was an MA program, however, not MFA.) I was later able to transfer credits to Temple University’s journalism school.
8. Which denomination was I born into? Christian Missionary Alliance
Most reformed people would be find this denomination odd. For example, I was allowed to take communion without being baptized. And the CMA decided to not take sides in the Calvinist vs. Arminian debate, but ordains pastors of either persuasion.
We attended a Southern Baptist church (not Independent Baptist) when I was in high school. My parents were PCUSA when they initially returned to the church after decades away from the faith. My oldest brother was ordained Canadian Anglican. (He's married to a Canadian. I've never lived in Canada, just visited.)
9. My hometown is...Williamsport, Pa.,onetime “Lumber Capital of the World,” and home of the Little League World Series, which I have never attended. I find baseball very boring.
10. I got married at the ripe old age of...30
Slow and steady wins the race. Joel and I met in 1995. We were friends for a year, dated for a year, were engaged for a year, then married in December 1998.
I patiently waited, but only got 18 takers for my friendship quiz. I closed the quiz this morning. Here are the promised answers.
1. My maiden name is...Webster
That’s right, I’m a genuine D.A.R. My ancestors, which include the colonial governor of Connecticut, have been in America since the 1600s. Lexicographer Noah Webster is a distant cousin. My branch of the family moved steadily west over six generations and eventually settled in Montana.
2. In high school band, I played... Xylophone, bells, chimes, marimba, vibraphone, cymbals and tympani
Thanks to a student teacher who borrowed instruments from his university, I got the opportunity to play the more exotic end of mallet percussion during concert season. I was beginning to learn four mallet technique my senior year.
If you’ve ever watched the percussionists at a band or symphony concert, you know it’s a crazy dance for us, switching among as many as six instruments in one piece of music. Some other instruments in my repertoire include bass drum, cowbell, finger cymbals, tambourine, triangle, claves, cabasa, duck call and brake drum (as in the car part, played with brass mallets).
3. My best subject in high school was…social studies
I won an award at graduation for the highest academic average in this subject. The only Cs I ever received were in phys ed. I never took Latin, and if you recall my post on lab blunders, you'd know chem lab was not my strong suit.
4. In college, my extracurricular activities were...theatre, music ministry and literary magazine
Since I didn’t own an instrument, band wasn’t an option in college. I did, however, keep up the tendency to overextend myself in extracurricular activities.
5. My favorite movie is…Amadeus
Humor, intrigue and fantastic music…who could ask for anything more?
Emma is in my top 10. Waking Life is one of the most incoherent pieces of pseudo-philosophical dreck I've yet endured. Hunt for Red October was ok, but not something I'd watch repeatedly.
6. My favorite author is…Susan Howatch
Her Starbridge novels are totally addicting and her psychological approach is far more readable than Henry James’. (I’m surprised that some of you actually thought I liked trashy Danielle Steele novels. Egads.)
7. What advanced degree do I have? MJ, Master of Journalism
Creative writing was a good guess, since I did study writing at the graduate level at Michigan State for several terms. (It was an MA program, however, not MFA.) I was later able to transfer credits to Temple University’s journalism school.
8. Which denomination was I born into? Christian Missionary Alliance
Most reformed people would be find this denomination odd. For example, I was allowed to take communion without being baptized. And the CMA decided to not take sides in the Calvinist vs. Arminian debate, but ordains pastors of either persuasion.
We attended a Southern Baptist church (not Independent Baptist) when I was in high school. My parents were PCUSA when they initially returned to the church after decades away from the faith. My oldest brother was ordained Canadian Anglican. (He's married to a Canadian. I've never lived in Canada, just visited.)
9. My hometown is...Williamsport, Pa.,onetime “Lumber Capital of the World,” and home of the Little League World Series, which I have never attended. I find baseball very boring.
10. I got married at the ripe old age of...30
Slow and steady wins the race. Joel and I met in 1995. We were friends for a year, dated for a year, were engaged for a year, then married in December 1998.
11.27.2002
ACK!
I taped Everwood on Monday night because I knew I would be too tired to enjoy it. I've become somewhat addicted to the show, I have to admit. It's good, clean entertainment with humor and touching moments in every episode.
We were watching the tape last night only to discover that all but about the last 5 minutes of the episode recorded. Amy was about to open a gift from Efrem that I just know would change everything, then BLAT the tape ran out!! Waah! (Please, don't anyone tell me what happened!) I hadn't completely rewound the tape before popping it into the VCR because some of the winter Olympics were on that tape. Grrr...
Joel reminded me that the WB replays the episodes on Sunday evenings. I'll just have to be in suspense until next week. I definitely have to buy some new blank tapes.
I taped Everwood on Monday night because I knew I would be too tired to enjoy it. I've become somewhat addicted to the show, I have to admit. It's good, clean entertainment with humor and touching moments in every episode.
We were watching the tape last night only to discover that all but about the last 5 minutes of the episode recorded. Amy was about to open a gift from Efrem that I just know would change everything, then BLAT the tape ran out!! Waah! (Please, don't anyone tell me what happened!) I hadn't completely rewound the tape before popping it into the VCR because some of the winter Olympics were on that tape. Grrr...
Joel reminded me that the WB replays the episodes on Sunday evenings. I'll just have to be in suspense until next week. I definitely have to buy some new blank tapes.
11.25.2002
Searching for joy
It is becoming a very difficult day. I’m functioning on little sleep because Claire was difficult to get to bed last night and she woke at 4:40 this morning. The first thing greeting me at the office was an e-mail from my mother begging me to come to Florida for Christmas. (It’s a trip we just can’t afford financially, physically or emotionally right now. I know I will have to say no. I hope one of my four siblings will manage to get down there sometime over the holidays.) Later in the morning, my MIL called to say she wants to take Claire to the doctor because her cold seems much worse. She’s very congested, irritable and not eating well.
I had to take a walk at lunchtime to pray and try to find my joy again. I didn’t find vigor, or a free chartered jet to Florida with an on-call family therapist, or a miracle cure for respiratory infections. But I found a dose of what I needed—snapshots of good things, evidence of God’s hand in the world:
The soft slant of autumn sun
Sparrows sharing a bit of bagel
Children charging through crunchy leaves
Hooves clattering on cobblestones as tourist carriages roll down Fifth Street
A neigh and snort and pungent whiff of manure
City schoolchildren jostling in a queue for the Liberty Bell, brown hands clapping, slapping, “See, see my playmate…”
A lone oak stubbornly clinging to its golden-orange foliage
A backhoe scooping dark earth
The majestic arc of a crane sweeping an I-beam into place
A concerned, head-tilted smile from a Christian co-worker who asks, "How are you?" and actually wants to know.
It is becoming a very difficult day. I’m functioning on little sleep because Claire was difficult to get to bed last night and she woke at 4:40 this morning. The first thing greeting me at the office was an e-mail from my mother begging me to come to Florida for Christmas. (It’s a trip we just can’t afford financially, physically or emotionally right now. I know I will have to say no. I hope one of my four siblings will manage to get down there sometime over the holidays.) Later in the morning, my MIL called to say she wants to take Claire to the doctor because her cold seems much worse. She’s very congested, irritable and not eating well.
I had to take a walk at lunchtime to pray and try to find my joy again. I didn’t find vigor, or a free chartered jet to Florida with an on-call family therapist, or a miracle cure for respiratory infections. But I found a dose of what I needed—snapshots of good things, evidence of God’s hand in the world:
The soft slant of autumn sun
Sparrows sharing a bit of bagel
Children charging through crunchy leaves
Hooves clattering on cobblestones as tourist carriages roll down Fifth Street
A neigh and snort and pungent whiff of manure
City schoolchildren jostling in a queue for the Liberty Bell, brown hands clapping, slapping, “See, see my playmate…”
A lone oak stubbornly clinging to its golden-orange foliage
A backhoe scooping dark earth
The majestic arc of a crane sweeping an I-beam into place
A concerned, head-tilted smile from a Christian co-worker who asks, "How are you?" and actually wants to know.
11.22.2002
Just Bree and me
Which of the Chronicles of Narnia are you? I am
The fifth book written, you're the third book chronologically and take place during The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. You tell the story of the humans Shasta and Aravis and the talking horses Bree and Hwin, all trying to escape from unhappy lives in Calormen to go to Narnia.
Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.
Cool. This was a favorite of the series. As an equinophile, I always thought it would be amazing to have a talking horse.
Which of the Chronicles of Narnia are you? I am
The fifth book written, you're the third book chronologically and take place during The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. You tell the story of the humans Shasta and Aravis and the talking horses Bree and Hwin, all trying to escape from unhappy lives in Calormen to go to Narnia.
Find out which Chronicles of Narnia book you are.
Cool. This was a favorite of the series. As an equinophile, I always thought it would be amazing to have a talking horse.
11.21.2002
Noise pollution
Thank goodness the piano tuner is done with all that plunking and sour notes and warping tones. I was jamming Leahy and trying to work, but after two and a half hours, his tuning efforts were really getting on my nerves.
Now we can have friends over to sing carols this holiday. Previously, we tried to hide the piano when company came, it was so out of tune. I inherited it when my parents retired to Florida, but since I don't really play (unless you count my George Winston-esque bouts of free-playing), I never got it tuned. The poor Baldwin has been moved three times without the touch of a professional tuner.
Let the berating fest begin...
Thank goodness the piano tuner is done with all that plunking and sour notes and warping tones. I was jamming Leahy and trying to work, but after two and a half hours, his tuning efforts were really getting on my nerves.
Now we can have friends over to sing carols this holiday. Previously, we tried to hide the piano when company came, it was so out of tune. I inherited it when my parents retired to Florida, but since I don't really play (unless you count my George Winston-esque bouts of free-playing), I never got it tuned. The poor Baldwin has been moved three times without the touch of a professional tuner.
Let the berating fest begin...
| "Sin is incurable by the strength of man, nor does free will have any validity here,
so that even the saints say: 'The evil which I do not wish, this I do.' 'You are not doing the things which you wish.' 'Since my loins are filled with illusions,' etc." |
| You are Martin Luther! Yeah, you have a way of letting everyone know how you feel, usually with Bible quotes attached, and will think your way through the issues, although sometimes you make no sense! You aren't always sure of yourself, and you can change your mind about things, something you actually consider a strength. You can take solitude, especially with some music. |
What theologian are you?
A creation of Henderson
My brother Jerry would be so proud! (He's an ELCA pastor.)
11.20.2002
A housesitting tale
In August about five years ago, I agreed to housesit for my friend Delia, who at the time lived alone with two cats in a cute little Cape Cod in southern New Jersey. In exchange for keeping the cats fed and entertained, I got a house to myself for a week and a shorter commute to work (thanks to New Jersey’s mass transit system, which beats the pants off Pennsylvania’s SEPTA in every conceivable way).
It was a quiet week. Emma the cream-colored female hid from me most of the time, except at night, when she wanted to sleep with me. Leo the orange tabby followed me everywhere and required much tummy scratching.
The last night of my stay, I was awakened at around 4:30 a.m. by a strange noise. It sounded like something was mechanically wrong with the little fan running to keep me cool—a strange metallic clicking.
I turned on the light to see Leo pounce on something. It sprang about six feet and climbed up the wall. Brown, eight legged, bulbous body, about 6 inches long. Tarantella!!! I screamed so hard, I had a sore throat for days afterward.
As Leo in chased the huge spider around, I ran from the room, shut the door and jumped on the bed in the guest room across the hall. I tried to calm down enough to figure out what to do. No way was I going to stay until morning. Unfortunately, my suitcase was in the room with the spider. Could I drive home in nothing but a summer nightgown?
As luck would have it, I had undressed in the bathroom the night before, so I had some clothes to wear. I dressed, packed up all my belongings except those in the bedroom and loaded up my car, shaking.
Poor Leo was trapped in the bedroom, and I knew I had to let him out so he could use the litter box and eat. I grabbed the biggest bowl in the kitchen and went upstairs, ready to trap the tarantella if it came walking towards me. Having seen earlier how far the thing could jump, I was not too keen on facing it again.
When I got upstairs, Leo was crying. I opened the bedroom door just a crack, and he came out. The spider did not follow.
It was still too early to call the neighbor who was my emergency contact. Delia was slated to return home in the early afternoon, so I left a note on the back door and went home.
At home, I slept more, then called the neighbors to let them know a tarantella was loose in Delia’s house. I told them it might be an escaped pet from one of the neighborhood boys. They contacted animal control, who searched the entire house and never found the critter.
Delia brought my suitcase to me the next day, Sunday, and I picked through everything with a stick before loading it into my car.
An unsolved mystery remains. Where did the tarantella come from? How did it get in the house? Where did it go? Did Leo kill and eat it? Did it escape?
Now that I own a cat, I do at least know the source of the strange sound that woke me. It was Leo. Cats apparently have a “hunting noise” that sounds more mechanical than organic.
The day of my ordeal, I had an afternoon date with Joel. When I told him the story, he shrieked and jumped on a chair. He refused to set foot in Delia’s house ever again. (Since then, Delia got married and moved, so we are free to visit again. ;-) )
Delia has teased me long and hard about this whole incident. For a long time she did not believe that I had seen a tarantella. (This is how matter-of-fact types torment those of us who enjoy novels and imaginative thinking.) Why would I make up something like this? I asked. She knows how much I hate getting up early!
Recently she finally relented and admits that Leo probably ate the tarantella. *shudder*
In August about five years ago, I agreed to housesit for my friend Delia, who at the time lived alone with two cats in a cute little Cape Cod in southern New Jersey. In exchange for keeping the cats fed and entertained, I got a house to myself for a week and a shorter commute to work (thanks to New Jersey’s mass transit system, which beats the pants off Pennsylvania’s SEPTA in every conceivable way).
It was a quiet week. Emma the cream-colored female hid from me most of the time, except at night, when she wanted to sleep with me. Leo the orange tabby followed me everywhere and required much tummy scratching.
The last night of my stay, I was awakened at around 4:30 a.m. by a strange noise. It sounded like something was mechanically wrong with the little fan running to keep me cool—a strange metallic clicking.
I turned on the light to see Leo pounce on something. It sprang about six feet and climbed up the wall. Brown, eight legged, bulbous body, about 6 inches long. Tarantella!!! I screamed so hard, I had a sore throat for days afterward.
As Leo in chased the huge spider around, I ran from the room, shut the door and jumped on the bed in the guest room across the hall. I tried to calm down enough to figure out what to do. No way was I going to stay until morning. Unfortunately, my suitcase was in the room with the spider. Could I drive home in nothing but a summer nightgown?
As luck would have it, I had undressed in the bathroom the night before, so I had some clothes to wear. I dressed, packed up all my belongings except those in the bedroom and loaded up my car, shaking.
Poor Leo was trapped in the bedroom, and I knew I had to let him out so he could use the litter box and eat. I grabbed the biggest bowl in the kitchen and went upstairs, ready to trap the tarantella if it came walking towards me. Having seen earlier how far the thing could jump, I was not too keen on facing it again.
When I got upstairs, Leo was crying. I opened the bedroom door just a crack, and he came out. The spider did not follow.
It was still too early to call the neighbor who was my emergency contact. Delia was slated to return home in the early afternoon, so I left a note on the back door and went home.
At home, I slept more, then called the neighbors to let them know a tarantella was loose in Delia’s house. I told them it might be an escaped pet from one of the neighborhood boys. They contacted animal control, who searched the entire house and never found the critter.
Delia brought my suitcase to me the next day, Sunday, and I picked through everything with a stick before loading it into my car.
An unsolved mystery remains. Where did the tarantella come from? How did it get in the house? Where did it go? Did Leo kill and eat it? Did it escape?
Now that I own a cat, I do at least know the source of the strange sound that woke me. It was Leo. Cats apparently have a “hunting noise” that sounds more mechanical than organic.
The day of my ordeal, I had an afternoon date with Joel. When I told him the story, he shrieked and jumped on a chair. He refused to set foot in Delia’s house ever again. (Since then, Delia got married and moved, so we are free to visit again. ;-) )
Delia has teased me long and hard about this whole incident. For a long time she did not believe that I had seen a tarantella. (This is how matter-of-fact types torment those of us who enjoy novels and imaginative thinking.) Why would I make up something like this? I asked. She knows how much I hate getting up early!
Recently she finally relented and admits that Leo probably ate the tarantella. *shudder*
11.18.2002
Going once...
If you haven't already, please try my friendship test. Most of the answers have appeared on my blog at some point. Here's a hint: What might appear to be a trick question asks about my "hometown." By that I mean where was I born and raised, rather than my current home. I will post the correct answers later this week.
If you haven't already, please try my friendship test. Most of the answers have appeared on my blog at some point. Here's a hint: What might appear to be a trick question asks about my "hometown." By that I mean where was I born and raised, rather than my current home. I will post the correct answers later this week.
11.17.2002
Sniff, sniff...
I have a cold. :-(
I guess I should expect to reap the consequences of doing too much yesterday: Women in the Church breakfast, role-play gaming in the afternoon and "play with the new DVD player" at a friend's house in the evening.
Ugh. I feel lousy. I think I will nap in Claire's room with her.
I have a cold. :-(
I guess I should expect to reap the consequences of doing too much yesterday: Women in the Church breakfast, role-play gaming in the afternoon and "play with the new DVD player" at a friend's house in the evening.
Ugh. I feel lousy. I think I will nap in Claire's room with her.
11.15.2002
An anniversary
One year ago today, I had my first appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist. It marked for me the beginning of the end...of walking in the valley of a shadowy grief that's rarely discussed--infertility.
The miracle of my journey is that the Lord enabled me to conceive--probably just days after that consult visit--with no medical assistance at all.
Here's a poem I wrote in the midst of that stuggle to hang on to hope and faith in disappointing circumstances. It reminds me of God's faithfulness in dark times.
House is hushed
At night the house is hushed—
a dangerous peace of
too-empty rooms.
Nursery wallpaper
shrink-wrapped on a shelf,
hand-woven blanket,
tattered tag still attached
wait in dark for another day.
She sits on the shadowed bed
watching her husband’s
slumbered breathing
reading disappointment
in his exhale, inhale
undisturbed by dreamt-of
night-feeding cries.
Her world is a tangle of
ugly acronyms: OPK, HSG, PMS.
And dawn offers little
but the steady beep of failure
on a lavender thermometer.
The beauty of female anatomy
is not lost on her: waxing,
waning chemical surges
Peaks and valleys of warmness
and chill. Follicles rising
and bursting in splendor,
tumbling joyfully to a
warm, cozy womb.
It is a deep mystery.
Why ovaries are greedy
of the legions of possibilities
Half-children locked in darkness,
rocked in the lu-lay
of her thrumming heart.
Let my children go!
she cries in the night.
From safety to danger,
it’s the nature of life.
Empty rooms, empty
arms need messes,
need tears, need
bump-scrapey tumbles,
objects for our fears.
Let my half-children go,
Lord. Make them whole.
Show them light.
Copyright LWG 8-22-01
One year ago today, I had my first appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist. It marked for me the beginning of the end...of walking in the valley of a shadowy grief that's rarely discussed--infertility.
The miracle of my journey is that the Lord enabled me to conceive--probably just days after that consult visit--with no medical assistance at all.
Here's a poem I wrote in the midst of that stuggle to hang on to hope and faith in disappointing circumstances. It reminds me of God's faithfulness in dark times.
House is hushed
At night the house is hushed—
a dangerous peace of
too-empty rooms.
Nursery wallpaper
shrink-wrapped on a shelf,
hand-woven blanket,
tattered tag still attached
wait in dark for another day.
She sits on the shadowed bed
watching her husband’s
slumbered breathing
reading disappointment
in his exhale, inhale
undisturbed by dreamt-of
night-feeding cries.
Her world is a tangle of
ugly acronyms: OPK, HSG, PMS.
And dawn offers little
but the steady beep of failure
on a lavender thermometer.
The beauty of female anatomy
is not lost on her: waxing,
waning chemical surges
Peaks and valleys of warmness
and chill. Follicles rising
and bursting in splendor,
tumbling joyfully to a
warm, cozy womb.
It is a deep mystery.
Why ovaries are greedy
of the legions of possibilities
Half-children locked in darkness,
rocked in the lu-lay
of her thrumming heart.
Let my children go!
she cries in the night.
From safety to danger,
it’s the nature of life.
Empty rooms, empty
arms need messes,
need tears, need
bump-scrapey tumbles,
objects for our fears.
Let my half-children go,
Lord. Make them whole.
Show them light.
Copyright LWG 8-22-01
11.14.2002
11.12.2002
A matter of perspective?
Earlier this evening while I was visiting a few blogs, Joel stood next to me and said, "Is that a gray hair?"
My reaction was to say "No way! No WAY! You're just messing with me. I don't believe it! Prove it!"
He yanked out the offending hair and handed it to me. I just stared at the silvery strand in total disbelief. I can't go gray yet, I'm only 34! My mother had very little gray hair at 60 and now that she's in her mid 70s still looks 10-15 years younger without ever touching dye.
I think I have been warped by our youth-obsessed culture. If I lived in another culture, I'd be psyched to finally be closer to being one of the venerated, wise ones. Instead I feel decrepit.
Earlier this evening while I was visiting a few blogs, Joel stood next to me and said, "Is that a gray hair?"
My reaction was to say "No way! No WAY! You're just messing with me. I don't believe it! Prove it!"
He yanked out the offending hair and handed it to me. I just stared at the silvery strand in total disbelief. I can't go gray yet, I'm only 34! My mother had very little gray hair at 60 and now that she's in her mid 70s still looks 10-15 years younger without ever touching dye.
I think I have been warped by our youth-obsessed culture. If I lived in another culture, I'd be psyched to finally be closer to being one of the venerated, wise ones. Instead I feel decrepit.
Am I Leopold?
I really want Claire to learn to play viola, and to start music training young. My fear is that I'll become like Mozart's dad Leopold and push her too hard. If Amadeus bears any resemblance to fact, the early pressures led Mozart to drink himself to death.
Am I naive to believe there must be some way to get a musical kid without warping him or her for life?
I really want Claire to learn to play viola, and to start music training young. My fear is that I'll become like Mozart's dad Leopold and push her too hard. If Amadeus bears any resemblance to fact, the early pressures led Mozart to drink himself to death.
Am I naive to believe there must be some way to get a musical kid without warping him or her for life?
11.08.2002
Regrets
I realized while strolling at lunchtime that I have never ridden in a limousine. It made me wonder what other fairly common things I have never experienced.
I have never...
...had a professional manicure
...drunk espresso
...owned a new car
...gone skinny dipping
...learned to speak a foreign language with some fluency
...lived alone for more than two months
...been drunk (I suspect this is no big loss)
I realized while strolling at lunchtime that I have never ridden in a limousine. It made me wonder what other fairly common things I have never experienced.
I have never...
...had a professional manicure
...drunk espresso
...owned a new car
...gone skinny dipping
...learned to speak a foreign language with some fluency
...lived alone for more than two months
...been drunk (I suspect this is no big loss)
11.07.2002
Laurel is...
...such a pathetic copycat, I decided to run a googlism on my name too.
laurel is cool (yeah!)
laurel is important (so there!)
laurel is a broad (a dame, a chick...)
laurel is a friendly and caring community
laurel is far more than a summer job; it's an unforgettable experience in beautiful surroundings
laurel is one of the few plants mentioned solely in the new testament (Aha! I have a Bible name!)
laurel is poisonous to livestock; hence the common name sheepkill (how would you like being nibbled on?)
laurel is not to purchase cemetery plots here (Something wrong with my remains? Huh?)
laurel is the guild's highest award for screenwriting
laurel is fast growing
laurel is listening to thumping techno pop music on her headphones
laurel is a broke man who gets evicted from his home and then hassled by local thug
laurel is also the founding chairman of the women's leadership foundation
laurel is full
laurel is energetic
laurel is located in yellowstone county 15 miles sw of billings (This is actually where my name comes from, my Dad's birthplace in Montana)
laurel is fed up with stan hitting the town with ollie
laurel is not a preferred food for most animals (Except the darned sheep, see above!)
laurel is a cold hardy plant that requires a good deal of direct sunlight for proper development and bloom color
laurel is 8 to 25 degrees centigrade with an annual precipitation of 0 (obviously hasn't seen me on a bad day! I precipitate quite a lot. LOL)
laurel is also a contributing member of the kensington ladies erotica society
laurel is not responsible for personal items either lost or stolen
laurel is one of many cats whom laura brinser used to feed
laurel is soaked in this mixture while the witch chants over the mixture for 7 hours
laurel is under way and we invite you to become a part of this renewal
laurel is the perfect destination where both tourists and business travelers experience style and service that every traveler deserves (I guess hospitality is my spiritual gift)
laurel is not referred to as a "compleat artist" for nothing
laurel is seen as a symbol for peace and victory (How cool is that?)
laurel is different and has its own particular specialness
laurel is a plant that has been involved in my life for 5 years (don't tell Joel)
laurel is thick and whitish to light brown (Okay, so I don't tan easily. Sheesh.)
laurel is truly a resort for all seasons
laurel is the creator of wordmagic (well, I am an editor)
laurel is dressed in the thin nightgown given to her by her captors
laurel is undoubtedly a species that has been the most widely written about and that has aroused great interest at home
laurel is sure having a rough day today
laurel is an excellent idea
...such a pathetic copycat, I decided to run a googlism on my name too.
laurel is cool (yeah!)
laurel is important (so there!)
laurel is a broad (a dame, a chick...)
laurel is a friendly and caring community
laurel is far more than a summer job; it's an unforgettable experience in beautiful surroundings
laurel is one of the few plants mentioned solely in the new testament (Aha! I have a Bible name!)
laurel is poisonous to livestock; hence the common name sheepkill (how would you like being nibbled on?)
laurel is not to purchase cemetery plots here (Something wrong with my remains? Huh?)
laurel is the guild's highest award for screenwriting
laurel is fast growing
laurel is listening to thumping techno pop music on her headphones
laurel is a broke man who gets evicted from his home and then hassled by local thug
laurel is also the founding chairman of the women's leadership foundation
laurel is full
laurel is energetic
laurel is located in yellowstone county 15 miles sw of billings (This is actually where my name comes from, my Dad's birthplace in Montana)
laurel is fed up with stan hitting the town with ollie
laurel is not a preferred food for most animals (Except the darned sheep, see above!)
laurel is a cold hardy plant that requires a good deal of direct sunlight for proper development and bloom color
laurel is 8 to 25 degrees centigrade with an annual precipitation of 0 (obviously hasn't seen me on a bad day! I precipitate quite a lot. LOL)
laurel is also a contributing member of the kensington ladies erotica society
laurel is not responsible for personal items either lost or stolen
laurel is one of many cats whom laura brinser used to feed
laurel is soaked in this mixture while the witch chants over the mixture for 7 hours
laurel is under way and we invite you to become a part of this renewal
laurel is the perfect destination where both tourists and business travelers experience style and service that every traveler deserves (I guess hospitality is my spiritual gift)
laurel is not referred to as a "compleat artist" for nothing
laurel is seen as a symbol for peace and victory (How cool is that?)
laurel is different and has its own particular specialness
laurel is a plant that has been involved in my life for 5 years (don't tell Joel)
laurel is thick and whitish to light brown (Okay, so I don't tan easily. Sheesh.)
laurel is truly a resort for all seasons
laurel is the creator of wordmagic (well, I am an editor)
laurel is dressed in the thin nightgown given to her by her captors
laurel is undoubtedly a species that has been the most widely written about and that has aroused great interest at home
laurel is sure having a rough day today
laurel is an excellent idea
11.06.2002
Lullabies
I think a favorite part of my day has become putting Claire to bed. She takes her last bottle at 9:30 to 10:00, then I change her into a sleeper gown and rock her to sleep.
The first few weeks into this routine, I told her stories about some of the contents of her room and where they came from: the rocker that my mom bought at an auction and refinished, the needlepoint pictures from Joel's grandmother and my grandmother, the cross stitch carousel horse I made during the 1992 winter Olympics, the Gainsborough print my mom bought me in London--for a nursery--in 1994, before I even met Joel. I want Claire to always know that she is part of generations of love and faith--and creativity.
Recently, I've been going through my musical repetoire. It amazes me how lyrics stick in my head after so many years--songs from grade school music class, high school musicals, VBS, college voice lessons, post-college singles group. Most stamped on my brain are hymns. Having worshiped in several denominations over my lifetime (Christian Missionary Alliance, Southern Baptist, Presbyterian Church in America), I've been exposed to so many kinds of hymns.
What riches we have as Christians! The songs that fill our minds are so amazing. What a joy it is to sing to my daughter of the "Deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free..."
The world misses out on such a treasure without this heritage. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird..." doesn't really measure up.
I think a favorite part of my day has become putting Claire to bed. She takes her last bottle at 9:30 to 10:00, then I change her into a sleeper gown and rock her to sleep.
The first few weeks into this routine, I told her stories about some of the contents of her room and where they came from: the rocker that my mom bought at an auction and refinished, the needlepoint pictures from Joel's grandmother and my grandmother, the cross stitch carousel horse I made during the 1992 winter Olympics, the Gainsborough print my mom bought me in London--for a nursery--in 1994, before I even met Joel. I want Claire to always know that she is part of generations of love and faith--and creativity.
Recently, I've been going through my musical repetoire. It amazes me how lyrics stick in my head after so many years--songs from grade school music class, high school musicals, VBS, college voice lessons, post-college singles group. Most stamped on my brain are hymns. Having worshiped in several denominations over my lifetime (Christian Missionary Alliance, Southern Baptist, Presbyterian Church in America), I've been exposed to so many kinds of hymns.
What riches we have as Christians! The songs that fill our minds are so amazing. What a joy it is to sing to my daughter of the "Deep, deep love of Jesus, vast, unmeasured, boundless, free..."
The world misses out on such a treasure without this heritage. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird..." doesn't really measure up.
11.01.2002
Boo!
One of the best things about where we live is the sense of neighborhood, especially at Halloween. Many of our neighbors have lived here for decades, and their children bring the grandkids back to Trick-or-Treat. It's like a slice of America as it used to be. We hang out on our front porches and chat, meet people, get to know families as they bring their costumed kids around to get candy.
Because of this tradition, Halloween is quite a big deal here. The decorating has become quite over the top. One neighbor across the street sets up an entire torture chamber in their front yard. Another neighbor sets up a haunted house in their first floor, which they invite all the neighbors to tour on Halloween.
Last night Joel got to participate in the fun for the first time since we moved here over 2 years ago, since he doesn't teach evening classes. He put on a handmade mask and sat out on the porch with Keats (our all-black kitty) to hand out candy. Some of the kids were a bit afraid of Joel, but seeing our silky kitty helped some kids work up the courage to come up on the porch. Our Halloween cat got lots of strokes and attention.
Claire and I joined him after her dinner bottle. She was cute as a button in her little pumpkin costume. I'll see if Joel can help me post pics of her soon.
What I enjoy most is hanging out with our neighbors the Coopers (who are Joel's parents' age) and hear about the history of the neighborhood, as well as recent goings on. Betty seems to know who lives in every house on the block. She knows who sold their houses recently, how quickly the houses sold, and in some cases, who our new neighbors will be.
One of Betty's sons and his wife chatted with us for a while. Her son's best friend from childhood, who grew up in our house, also stopped by with his kids to chat. He said that our narrow row house once housed a family of seven! I don't think we're ever going to populate this place quite so densely. LOL
One of the best things about where we live is the sense of neighborhood, especially at Halloween. Many of our neighbors have lived here for decades, and their children bring the grandkids back to Trick-or-Treat. It's like a slice of America as it used to be. We hang out on our front porches and chat, meet people, get to know families as they bring their costumed kids around to get candy.
Because of this tradition, Halloween is quite a big deal here. The decorating has become quite over the top. One neighbor across the street sets up an entire torture chamber in their front yard. Another neighbor sets up a haunted house in their first floor, which they invite all the neighbors to tour on Halloween.
Last night Joel got to participate in the fun for the first time since we moved here over 2 years ago, since he doesn't teach evening classes. He put on a handmade mask and sat out on the porch with Keats (our all-black kitty) to hand out candy. Some of the kids were a bit afraid of Joel, but seeing our silky kitty helped some kids work up the courage to come up on the porch. Our Halloween cat got lots of strokes and attention.
Claire and I joined him after her dinner bottle. She was cute as a button in her little pumpkin costume. I'll see if Joel can help me post pics of her soon.
What I enjoy most is hanging out with our neighbors the Coopers (who are Joel's parents' age) and hear about the history of the neighborhood, as well as recent goings on. Betty seems to know who lives in every house on the block. She knows who sold their houses recently, how quickly the houses sold, and in some cases, who our new neighbors will be.
One of Betty's sons and his wife chatted with us for a while. Her son's best friend from childhood, who grew up in our house, also stopped by with his kids to chat. He said that our narrow row house once housed a family of seven! I don't think we're ever going to populate this place quite so densely. LOL
10.29.2002
Capitalist excess
In my never ending quest to ensure my family never runs out of everything, I recently joined BJs warehouse club. Buying in bulk for me means saved time (fewer store trips) that can be spent with Claire, and saved money on things we buy most often, like diapers.
I have to admit, however, that these clubs are a showcase of American consumerism at its worst. People load their oversize carts with obscene amounts of everything imaginable. And while bulk buying should mean less packaging, many buy bulk quantities of things like snack packs of potato chips. I think of all the landfills that will be created to accommodate the little chip bags and it makes me feel a bit ill. Is it really so time consuming to put chips into baggies from one large 2 or 3 lb. bag?
I don't think of myself as excessively eco-conscious, but there are some things I do to reduce waste, like use a water filter instead of buying bottled water. I also wash and re-use zipper baggies from my bag lunches. Now I feel kind of extreme for using old rags for cleaning instead of disposable wipes that contain window cleaner, bathroom cleaner or furniture polish. Oh, and using a washcloth instead of disposable "facial cloths."
I'm wondering why the eco-warriors of the world aren't going after manufacturers for inventing these "convenience" items that are no more easy than the reusable alternative, and cost more and create more waste.
I also wonder if I should feel more guilty for using disposable diapers and kleenex instead of cloth diapers and handkerchiefs. I am a hypocrite too, I guess.
In my never ending quest to ensure my family never runs out of everything, I recently joined BJs warehouse club. Buying in bulk for me means saved time (fewer store trips) that can be spent with Claire, and saved money on things we buy most often, like diapers.
I have to admit, however, that these clubs are a showcase of American consumerism at its worst. People load their oversize carts with obscene amounts of everything imaginable. And while bulk buying should mean less packaging, many buy bulk quantities of things like snack packs of potato chips. I think of all the landfills that will be created to accommodate the little chip bags and it makes me feel a bit ill. Is it really so time consuming to put chips into baggies from one large 2 or 3 lb. bag?
I don't think of myself as excessively eco-conscious, but there are some things I do to reduce waste, like use a water filter instead of buying bottled water. I also wash and re-use zipper baggies from my bag lunches. Now I feel kind of extreme for using old rags for cleaning instead of disposable wipes that contain window cleaner, bathroom cleaner or furniture polish. Oh, and using a washcloth instead of disposable "facial cloths."
I'm wondering why the eco-warriors of the world aren't going after manufacturers for inventing these "convenience" items that are no more easy than the reusable alternative, and cost more and create more waste.
I also wonder if I should feel more guilty for using disposable diapers and kleenex instead of cloth diapers and handkerchiefs. I am a hypocrite too, I guess.
10.28.2002
Catching up
A lot of time has passed since I last blogged. Part of the reason I haven't been online as much is of course because Claire was hospitalized last weekend. (The full story, with photos, is on Joel's blog.) I caught stomach flu from some germy person at Children's Hospital and was sick for a few days once Claire came home. Fortunately, she gets immunity to my illnesses from my milk.
Claire is doing great now, eating well and looking softer in the face and the middle. We hope to see more plumpness on her limbs in the next few weeks.
Her great accomplishment for last week was to sleep in her crib in her room at night, instead of the bassinet in our room. It's great to finally use the nursery we worked hard to furnish and decorate nicely for her. Also, I had been waking at every sigh she made, so now that she's in her own room I sleep through the night again. Joel is mostly uneffected by the change. Claire would have to scream for several minutes to wake him. Ah the deafness of dads....
Work, of course has been totally nuts. The magazine was already 4 days behind schedule when I returned to work on Oct. 14. Missing two days because of Claire's hospitalization and my flu only made it worse. I did some work at home that weekend--"working feverishly" became literal reality. LOL
It was one of those weeks in which I wish I had a clone.
A lot of time has passed since I last blogged. Part of the reason I haven't been online as much is of course because Claire was hospitalized last weekend. (The full story, with photos, is on Joel's blog.) I caught stomach flu from some germy person at Children's Hospital and was sick for a few days once Claire came home. Fortunately, she gets immunity to my illnesses from my milk.
Claire is doing great now, eating well and looking softer in the face and the middle. We hope to see more plumpness on her limbs in the next few weeks.
Her great accomplishment for last week was to sleep in her crib in her room at night, instead of the bassinet in our room. It's great to finally use the nursery we worked hard to furnish and decorate nicely for her. Also, I had been waking at every sigh she made, so now that she's in her own room I sleep through the night again. Joel is mostly uneffected by the change. Claire would have to scream for several minutes to wake him. Ah the deafness of dads....
Work, of course has been totally nuts. The magazine was already 4 days behind schedule when I returned to work on Oct. 14. Missing two days because of Claire's hospitalization and my flu only made it worse. I did some work at home that weekend--"working feverishly" became literal reality. LOL
It was one of those weeks in which I wish I had a clone.
10.14.2002
The editor is IN
Wow, two posts in one day! It must be because I am back at work. With a lot of prep work yesterday, we were able to get ourselves ready and out the door with minimal fuss this morning. Claire even obliged us by sleeping through the night. What a great kid.
How very strange it feels to sit here eating my lunch, listening to a Clannad album and blogging with no worries of the baby needing my attention imminently. While it is refreshing to have some conversations with other adults, I do kind of miss the Wayne Brady show. ;-) Well, that and staying in my pjs all morning while I cuddle my little girl.
So far the day has seemed quite surreal. I feel like I've stepped back into my pre-pregnancy life, but with part of me changed utterly. The biggest reminder of that change was when I needed to slip off to a vacant office to pump some milk. Talk about feeling like a cow. :-p
Wow, two posts in one day! It must be because I am back at work. With a lot of prep work yesterday, we were able to get ourselves ready and out the door with minimal fuss this morning. Claire even obliged us by sleeping through the night. What a great kid.
How very strange it feels to sit here eating my lunch, listening to a Clannad album and blogging with no worries of the baby needing my attention imminently. While it is refreshing to have some conversations with other adults, I do kind of miss the Wayne Brady show. ;-) Well, that and staying in my pjs all morning while I cuddle my little girl.
So far the day has seemed quite surreal. I feel like I've stepped back into my pre-pregnancy life, but with part of me changed utterly. The biggest reminder of that change was when I needed to slip off to a vacant office to pump some milk. Talk about feeling like a cow. :-p
All we can do...
Last night I finally got a hold of my brother in Fredericksburg. He and his family live about a mile from the Exxon station where the DC sniper claimed its latest victim on Oct. 11. Steve said that his kids have not had outdoor recess in over a week, and he doesn't feel safe letting them play outside their home either. My very active nephew Ian is going quite stir crazy (yep, the one who calls me "Aunt Whirl").
They have been avoiding the gas stations near the Route 95 ramps, even if it means going well out of their way. Not that they feel especially safe at any gas station...
"All we can do is pray for God's protection," he said. Indeed.
Last night I finally got a hold of my brother in Fredericksburg. He and his family live about a mile from the Exxon station where the DC sniper claimed its latest victim on Oct. 11. Steve said that his kids have not had outdoor recess in over a week, and he doesn't feel safe letting them play outside their home either. My very active nephew Ian is going quite stir crazy (yep, the one who calls me "Aunt Whirl").
They have been avoiding the gas stations near the Route 95 ramps, even if it means going well out of their way. Not that they feel especially safe at any gas station...
"All we can do is pray for God's protection," he said. Indeed.
10.09.2002
Lisping, stammering tongue
I just realized, when my babysitter Lisa's son tried to greet Claire, that I have given my daughter the same fate as me: a name that is unpronounceable by small children. Poor kid. She will be Kway-yuh until she is 4.
Somehow I had forgotten that Ls and Rs are the last sounds that English-speakers acquire. I don't think you can get much worse than Laurel for hard-to-say names among the toddler set. I called myself Low-whoa for the longest time. I have been called Aunt Low-ah, Aunt La-whoa, Aunt Whoa-Whoa and Aunt Whirl by various nieces and nephews.
My personal favorite of these is Whirl. I think it really sums up my relationship with my nephew Ian, who came up with the name. When we are together, we do things like pretend we are in a Kung-Fu movie, making crazy poses and saying "High-Yah!" I definitely whirl with him! LOL
I just realized, when my babysitter Lisa's son tried to greet Claire, that I have given my daughter the same fate as me: a name that is unpronounceable by small children. Poor kid. She will be Kway-yuh until she is 4.
Somehow I had forgotten that Ls and Rs are the last sounds that English-speakers acquire. I don't think you can get much worse than Laurel for hard-to-say names among the toddler set. I called myself Low-whoa for the longest time. I have been called Aunt Low-ah, Aunt La-whoa, Aunt Whoa-Whoa and Aunt Whirl by various nieces and nephews.
My personal favorite of these is Whirl. I think it really sums up my relationship with my nephew Ian, who came up with the name. When we are together, we do things like pretend we are in a Kung-Fu movie, making crazy poses and saying "High-Yah!" I definitely whirl with him! LOL
10.05.2002
Just one more week until I return to work. I'm both excited and scared.
One thing I was really dreading was dressing for the office because of my weight gain from pregnancy. Fortunately, I got birthday money and was able to do a little shopping for some nice office wear to get me through the fall. I think the big secret is skirts! A-line bias-cut skirts are back this year and they look fabulous on those of us who are amply blessed in the hips area. LOL
I feel really good about our childcare arrangement. Claire will spend Mondays with her grandmother who adores her. Tuesdays and Thursdays she will be home with Joel and me as I work from home. Wednesdays and Fridays she will be with a wonderful Christian stay-at-home mom who lives 5 minutes from here. She has a 2-year old son, worked as a teacher and is married to a surgical resident. She uses the same pediatrician as we do and lives across the street from a pediatrics resident and his wife who attend our church. We are really thankful for how the Lord has provided.
I'm scared about fatigue and being bleary and unproductive when I'm at the office. I also have concerns that Claire will have trouble adjusting to the new schedule. She's done a few trial runs of staying with Grammy--did poorly the first time and did well the second time. I just have to trust the Lord to hold her tiny little hands and help her feel comfortable with her new friends.
One thing I was really dreading was dressing for the office because of my weight gain from pregnancy. Fortunately, I got birthday money and was able to do a little shopping for some nice office wear to get me through the fall. I think the big secret is skirts! A-line bias-cut skirts are back this year and they look fabulous on those of us who are amply blessed in the hips area. LOL
I feel really good about our childcare arrangement. Claire will spend Mondays with her grandmother who adores her. Tuesdays and Thursdays she will be home with Joel and me as I work from home. Wednesdays and Fridays she will be with a wonderful Christian stay-at-home mom who lives 5 minutes from here. She has a 2-year old son, worked as a teacher and is married to a surgical resident. She uses the same pediatrician as we do and lives across the street from a pediatrics resident and his wife who attend our church. We are really thankful for how the Lord has provided.
I'm scared about fatigue and being bleary and unproductive when I'm at the office. I also have concerns that Claire will have trouble adjusting to the new schedule. She's done a few trial runs of staying with Grammy--did poorly the first time and did well the second time. I just have to trust the Lord to hold her tiny little hands and help her feel comfortable with her new friends.
10.03.2002
It has been a very full few weeks since I last blogged. Claire is just now coming out of a growth spurt in which she added nearly 4 inches to her length by eating constantly. I'm glad that the feeding frenzy is coming to an end because it was exhausting me.
Last night she actually slept through the night--from 10:45 to 7. I don't expect this to become a pattern immediately, but it is a welcome sign of things to come. Last week she was able to sleep for 5-6 hours straight if she tanked up on milk for 3-4 hours before bedtime. Last night she went down much more quickly.
I also turned 34 last weekend. We celebrated by going to the Celtic Classic festival in Bethlehem. Joel's blog has some photos and details. It was an ideal event for Claire's first all-day outing, because I was able to nurse her while enjoying all the fantastic music and ethnic dancing.
We made some technological advances recently. The first was purchasing a digital camera and image editing saftware. Joel has some of the results posted on his blog. I'm loving the image editor, which is a pared-down version on Photoshop. It has most of Photoshop's features at a fraction of the price. With it and MS Publisher, I should be able to dabble in graphic design again. It's what I miss most about my job at the accounting association where I worked for 6.5 years.
Our second advancement was to get DSL service. Wow is the Internet fast now! I need the faster service to telecommute effectively starting in less than two weeks. Since our phone company had a special deal, we decided the time was now to cease waiting for pages to load! Yeah!
Last night she actually slept through the night--from 10:45 to 7. I don't expect this to become a pattern immediately, but it is a welcome sign of things to come. Last week she was able to sleep for 5-6 hours straight if she tanked up on milk for 3-4 hours before bedtime. Last night she went down much more quickly.
I also turned 34 last weekend. We celebrated by going to the Celtic Classic festival in Bethlehem. Joel's blog has some photos and details. It was an ideal event for Claire's first all-day outing, because I was able to nurse her while enjoying all the fantastic music and ethnic dancing.
We made some technological advances recently. The first was purchasing a digital camera and image editing saftware. Joel has some of the results posted on his blog. I'm loving the image editor, which is a pared-down version on Photoshop. It has most of Photoshop's features at a fraction of the price. With it and MS Publisher, I should be able to dabble in graphic design again. It's what I miss most about my job at the accounting association where I worked for 6.5 years.
Our second advancement was to get DSL service. Wow is the Internet fast now! I need the faster service to telecommute effectively starting in less than two weeks. Since our phone company had a special deal, we decided the time was now to cease waiting for pages to load! Yeah!
9.16.2002
Yesterday, Claire became a child of the covenant. She was baptized by Rev. Dr. Philip G. Ryken at the 9 a.m. service and was an absolute gem throughout. She was snoozing in Daddy's arms, but opened her eyes and was aware of what was going on when Phil held her and sprinkled the water on her head. She didn't cry or fuss, but promptly went back to sleep when given back to Daddy.
She wore a beautiful gown made by her Aunt Candace, ribbon-embroidered booties made by my mother, and a smocked bonnet that Joel's mother bought her. Phil mentioned that Claire means clear, bright or shining, and gave her a special blessing--"May you shine forth with the light of Jesus Christ."
After the service we had a little brunch party for her grandparents, godparents (an aunt and uncle), cousins and a few church friends. It was a long, exciting day for Claire. She was passed around, bottle fed and much fussed over. By evening, she just wanted some quiet time with Mommy.
It's a powerful thing to be someone's one, best comfort. Wow. Momhood is cool.
She wore a beautiful gown made by her Aunt Candace, ribbon-embroidered booties made by my mother, and a smocked bonnet that Joel's mother bought her. Phil mentioned that Claire means clear, bright or shining, and gave her a special blessing--"May you shine forth with the light of Jesus Christ."
After the service we had a little brunch party for her grandparents, godparents (an aunt and uncle), cousins and a few church friends. It was a long, exciting day for Claire. She was passed around, bottle fed and much fussed over. By evening, she just wanted some quiet time with Mommy.
It's a powerful thing to be someone's one, best comfort. Wow. Momhood is cool.
9.13.2002
I've become more than a little stir crazy the past few days. Being cooped up in the house with the baby all day is definitely taking its toll.
More than one friend has told me the problem is my expectations rather than the fact the Claire likes to "cluster feed" (e.g. snack on and off) for 3-4 hours at a stretch during the day. I guess I am more of a "type A" personality than I realized. It makes me kind of crazy to not achieve things every day. I like to be active and to have a clean, tidy house. Even when I put Claire in the Baby Bjorn carrier, there are things I can't do, like scrub the bathtub.
Drat. She just woke up again....
God grant me the serenity to accept my dirty house and watch bad sitcoms while Claire plumps up.
More than one friend has told me the problem is my expectations rather than the fact the Claire likes to "cluster feed" (e.g. snack on and off) for 3-4 hours at a stretch during the day. I guess I am more of a "type A" personality than I realized. It makes me kind of crazy to not achieve things every day. I like to be active and to have a clean, tidy house. Even when I put Claire in the Baby Bjorn carrier, there are things I can't do, like scrub the bathtub.
Drat. She just woke up again....
God grant me the serenity to accept my dirty house and watch bad sitcoms while Claire plumps up.
9.09.2002
I've just begun to be able to do something other than watch TV while nursing. This is a very welcome development, because my brain was beginning to turn to mush. All the morning talk shows cover the exact same things, with the same guests shamelessly promoting their new book/movie/album/TV show. Ugh. In the afternoon I got caught up on old episodes of Cosby show, which I always enjoyed when it was on in the 80s. It was nice to see an African American family protrayed so positively--two parents, both professionals, and well-adjusted, good kids.
But now I can read! Yay! I finished up a silly murder mystery my sister-in-law loaned me, Too Many Crooks Spoil the Broth. It's set in PA Dutch country, and the protagonist, who owns an inn, is quite humorous. The plot was kind of silly, but it was a fun read nonetheless, about my speed when I first got home from the hospital, sleep deprived and sore.
I've started a novel by Ann Patchett, Bel Canto about a group of people taken hostage in South America during a birthday party for a Japanese businessman the government is trying to woo to build a factory in the country. In the evenings, when I get a few minutes to soak in the tub to try to help my stitches heal, I've been reading Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott. It's her journal of her first year as a single mom. I'd never read any of Lamott's other books, but now I'm intrigued about her as I've learned that she's a beliver and came to faith after a long struggle with addiction to drugs and alcohol. Her writing is beautiful and her insights about some of the ups, downs and spiritual aspects of being a new mom really blow me away.
But now I can read! Yay! I finished up a silly murder mystery my sister-in-law loaned me, Too Many Crooks Spoil the Broth. It's set in PA Dutch country, and the protagonist, who owns an inn, is quite humorous. The plot was kind of silly, but it was a fun read nonetheless, about my speed when I first got home from the hospital, sleep deprived and sore.
I've started a novel by Ann Patchett, Bel Canto about a group of people taken hostage in South America during a birthday party for a Japanese businessman the government is trying to woo to build a factory in the country. In the evenings, when I get a few minutes to soak in the tub to try to help my stitches heal, I've been reading Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott. It's her journal of her first year as a single mom. I'd never read any of Lamott's other books, but now I'm intrigued about her as I've learned that she's a beliver and came to faith after a long struggle with addiction to drugs and alcohol. Her writing is beautiful and her insights about some of the ups, downs and spiritual aspects of being a new mom really blow me away.
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