Sickly holidays
I've been pretty busy since we returned from our trip to visit family last week. It was nice to see my siblings, though under less than ideal conditions. Claire started running a fever on our drive down. After fighting through some pretty nasty traffic around Washington DC, Joel began to feel run down too.
When we arrived at my brother's house, both of them were feeling lousy. We began Claire on a 2-hour rotation between Tylenol and Motrin. A little Simply Cough helped her get to sleep. When Joel hit the hay for the night, he had the chills so bad I piled three quilts on him and he was still shivering. Claire woke every three hours throughout the night burning up with fever and screaming for "mommy, mommy, mommy."
Sunday morning my sister-in-law called around and found us an urgent care center that had Sunday hours. I had to do some hoop jumping with the insurance company to get approval for the visits. The urgent care center was fortunately not too busy. A nurse practitioner diagnosed Claire with an ear infection and Joel with a viral respiratory infection. We got prescriptions for both.
Within about 24 hours of starting antibiotics, Claire's fever finally broke and she became much more her usual self. Joel improved with lots of rest, which disappointed my nephew greatly (he wanted Uncle Joel to play soccer in the yard).
How I managed to escape illness is frankly a miracle. I'm asthmatic and very susceptible to respiratory infections. Perhaps my long illness in December gave me immunity.
Tuesday we continued south to visit another of my brothers in North Carolina. Two of my oldest nieces were there and it was fun to visit with them. Both are in their 20s and closer to me in age than most of my siblings.
They threw a New Year's party with 30 or so guests, most in their 50s. My sister-in-law warned beforehand that no one would stay until midnight. How well she knows her friends! Several asked if we could "call midnight at eleven." LOL! So, we toasted "Newfie New Year" at Newfoundland midnight. The guests promptly departed and we had all evidence of the party cleaned up before EST midnight, giving us time for a quieter family toast.
The drive home was clear sailing. If you ever have to take nasty Route 95 around Washington, New Year's Day (and Christmas Day as well) is a good time to do it. We made it from Wilson, NC to Philly in just 6 hours and 20 minutes!
1.04.2004
Webcast
The webcast of our Christmas eve lessons and carols service is available online. Scroll down to the archived music events and select 12/24/03 - Christmas Eve. The prelude was performed by the Westminster Brass and the Tenth Chamber Players. Both groups accompanied the choir on several pieces later in the service.
The webcast of our Christmas eve lessons and carols service is available online. Scroll down to the archived music events and select 12/24/03 - Christmas Eve. The prelude was performed by the Westminster Brass and the Tenth Chamber Players. Both groups accompanied the choir on several pieces later in the service.
12.26.2003
Reprieve
Our best Christmas present? The "service engine" light in the car went out! Joel called the service department at the Saturn dealership this morning and they agreed that nothing of immediate concern is wrong if the light does not stay on. The mechanic said that moisture in the engine from Wednesday's torrential rains could have made the light turn on, or "sometimes the computer just hiccups."
The other great news was that Cory Kloth's wife Heather delivered three healthy babies Christmas day. The triplets are breathing on their own and reports of their birthweights seem pretty encouraging. The Kloths graciously hosted us, sight unseen, when we were in the Atlanta area in July.
Our best Christmas present? The "service engine" light in the car went out! Joel called the service department at the Saturn dealership this morning and they agreed that nothing of immediate concern is wrong if the light does not stay on. The mechanic said that moisture in the engine from Wednesday's torrential rains could have made the light turn on, or "sometimes the computer just hiccups."
The other great news was that Cory Kloth's wife Heather delivered three healthy babies Christmas day. The triplets are breathing on their own and reports of their birthweights seem pretty encouraging. The Kloths graciously hosted us, sight unseen, when we were in the Atlanta area in July.
12.24.2003
Gloria in excelsis!
Our Christmas Eve lessons and carols service went very smoothly, though I am now exhausted and a bit wheezy. Most of the service is choral piece after choral piece, and our director really put us through our paces. Singing for a packed house is rather energizing, and we had some superb brass and strings accompanying on several of the pieces. Times like these make me love being in a big church.
You can read about our repertoire here. A webcast of the service was available live. I'll post a link when the recorded version is available.
The most difficult piece we sang was Laurisden's "O magnum mysterium." Dissonance and unusual harmonics are not easy, but it also requires a lot of pianissimo, which takes tremendous breath control to achieve. It's also the longest piece we sang. It's incredibly beautiful though, with some harmonies that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, they're so otherworldly.
On the downside, the "service engine soon" light came on in our "new" car when we headed over to church tonight. Please pray that it's nothing serious. The car is still under warranty, but we don't want to be stuck with it in the shop for any length of time because we had planned to leave Saturday to visit some of my family.
Now, to bed!
Fröliche Weihnachten!
Our Christmas Eve lessons and carols service went very smoothly, though I am now exhausted and a bit wheezy. Most of the service is choral piece after choral piece, and our director really put us through our paces. Singing for a packed house is rather energizing, and we had some superb brass and strings accompanying on several of the pieces. Times like these make me love being in a big church.
You can read about our repertoire here. A webcast of the service was available live. I'll post a link when the recorded version is available.
The most difficult piece we sang was Laurisden's "O magnum mysterium." Dissonance and unusual harmonics are not easy, but it also requires a lot of pianissimo, which takes tremendous breath control to achieve. It's also the longest piece we sang. It's incredibly beautiful though, with some harmonies that make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, they're so otherworldly.
On the downside, the "service engine soon" light came on in our "new" car when we headed over to church tonight. Please pray that it's nothing serious. The car is still under warranty, but we don't want to be stuck with it in the shop for any length of time because we had planned to leave Saturday to visit some of my family.
Now, to bed!
Fröliche Weihnachten!
12.22.2003
Into the homestretch
Whew, I only have one last Christmas gift project to finish up, and just a few days left. These past few weeks have been really packed between giftmaking, baking, guests and fun events.
We got to see Return of the King the day it opened, in the afternoon. We got free babysitting--always a plus. Getting to the theatre was a bit scary, as our windshield wipers were malfunctioning in the midst of a major downpour. At every red light, Joel had to hop out of the car to get the left blade back on the windshield. Fortunately, we had pre-purchased tickets and the afternoon show was not sold out.
I liked the film a lot, but I'll probably like the extended DVD better. A few of the cuts disappointed me greatly. Eowyn and Merry get short shrift when the Houses of Healing section is cut. I expected Eowyn's plotline wrap-up to get some screen time since she is so prominent in the beginning of the film. I was also disappointed that the ships' arrival at Minas Tirith was so undramatic. The whole sails unfurling bit in the book seemed to suggest a really visually stunning moment that never made it to the theatre. Sigh.
For our anniversary, Joel and I went to hear Anonymous 4, a female quartet that sings mostly Medieval and Renaissance music, as well as works and modern composers who have similarly modal harmonics. Accompanied by different types of harp, they filled the Gothic-revival church with tight harmonies and even tighter unison singing. I think I was most impressed by their ability to sound like one voice when singing unison. It's evidence of both intense rehearsing and many years together.
Whew, I only have one last Christmas gift project to finish up, and just a few days left. These past few weeks have been really packed between giftmaking, baking, guests and fun events.
We got to see Return of the King the day it opened, in the afternoon. We got free babysitting--always a plus. Getting to the theatre was a bit scary, as our windshield wipers were malfunctioning in the midst of a major downpour. At every red light, Joel had to hop out of the car to get the left blade back on the windshield. Fortunately, we had pre-purchased tickets and the afternoon show was not sold out.
I liked the film a lot, but I'll probably like the extended DVD better. A few of the cuts disappointed me greatly. Eowyn and Merry get short shrift when the Houses of Healing section is cut. I expected Eowyn's plotline wrap-up to get some screen time since she is so prominent in the beginning of the film. I was also disappointed that the ships' arrival at Minas Tirith was so undramatic. The whole sails unfurling bit in the book seemed to suggest a really visually stunning moment that never made it to the theatre. Sigh.
For our anniversary, Joel and I went to hear Anonymous 4, a female quartet that sings mostly Medieval and Renaissance music, as well as works and modern composers who have similarly modal harmonics. Accompanied by different types of harp, they filled the Gothic-revival church with tight harmonies and even tighter unison singing. I think I was most impressed by their ability to sound like one voice when singing unison. It's evidence of both intense rehearsing and many years together.
12.14.2003
Down with dictators
Listening to the radio during breakfast, we heard a long segment on the capture of Saddam Hussein. At one point in the broadcast, a crowd reacted to the news with clapping and cheering.
In response, our toddler daughter kicked her high chair tray, clapped and said "woot!"
Or should that be w00t? Only 16 months old, and she's picking up Internet chat slang. Thanks bq.
Listening to the radio during breakfast, we heard a long segment on the capture of Saddam Hussein. At one point in the broadcast, a crowd reacted to the news with clapping and cheering.
In response, our toddler daughter kicked her high chair tray, clapped and said "woot!"
Or should that be w00t? Only 16 months old, and she's picking up Internet chat slang. Thanks bq.
12.09.2003
No, I'm not dead
Though in the past 10 days or so I've felt less than lively. I caught some particularly virulent respiratory infection from my germy toddler and have been sick since the weekend after Thanksgiving. She, of course, bounced back in a few days.
Despite feeling lousy, I've been trying to finish up Christmas projects. This is probably why I'm not completely well yet. Well, that and dragging myself to very intense choir rehearsals. I'm getting very good at lip synching when I feel a cough coming on. I think I should have worked on this technique earlier in the season when I realized just how rusty I am at sight-reading.
Another dirty secret I also recently learned is that we soprano IIs can stealthily morph into the alto section when the soprano part is getting into the brittle end of our range. Believe me, if we didn't do this, people would complain. If the ladies in your choir don't know this cheat technique, please pass on the word. Let's save our churches from needless screeching and strained vocal chords.
Though in the past 10 days or so I've felt less than lively. I caught some particularly virulent respiratory infection from my germy toddler and have been sick since the weekend after Thanksgiving. She, of course, bounced back in a few days.
Despite feeling lousy, I've been trying to finish up Christmas projects. This is probably why I'm not completely well yet. Well, that and dragging myself to very intense choir rehearsals. I'm getting very good at lip synching when I feel a cough coming on. I think I should have worked on this technique earlier in the season when I realized just how rusty I am at sight-reading.
Another dirty secret I also recently learned is that we soprano IIs can stealthily morph into the alto section when the soprano part is getting into the brittle end of our range. Believe me, if we didn't do this, people would complain. If the ladies in your choir don't know this cheat technique, please pass on the word. Let's save our churches from needless screeching and strained vocal chords.
11.27.2003
Gobbled
Hard to believe it's already Thanksgiving. A month ago I flew down to Florida. Since losing my dad and returning home, I've been pretty wrapped up in time-consuming projects like buying a car, making Christmas gifts and organizing a volunteer day at the church library.
After spending a day deshelving, repairing and reorganizing the church library, I was appalled at how few books we have that are actual commentaries. Our "Christian living" section, on the other hand, is huge. (Largely, this is because we get so many donations for this category, and our funding level being what it is, we are grateful to get them.)
I'm somewhat discouraged by the types of things Christian publishers market most. If you looked at Christian Book Distributer's catalog, you'd think the only things being published are fiction and 75 versions of "Prayer of Jabez" and "Secrets of the Vine." I know that good, solid stuff is out there, but without Joel's help, I wouldn't know where to find it.
Hard to believe it's already Thanksgiving. A month ago I flew down to Florida. Since losing my dad and returning home, I've been pretty wrapped up in time-consuming projects like buying a car, making Christmas gifts and organizing a volunteer day at the church library.
After spending a day deshelving, repairing and reorganizing the church library, I was appalled at how few books we have that are actual commentaries. Our "Christian living" section, on the other hand, is huge. (Largely, this is because we get so many donations for this category, and our funding level being what it is, we are grateful to get them.)
I'm somewhat discouraged by the types of things Christian publishers market most. If you looked at Christian Book Distributer's catalog, you'd think the only things being published are fiction and 75 versions of "Prayer of Jabez" and "Secrets of the Vine." I know that good, solid stuff is out there, but without Joel's help, I wouldn't know where to find it.
11.16.2003
Woop! Woop!
Err, I accidently just discovered that our new car has an alarm system when I stowed something in the glove box. Aparently opening the door with a key will trip the alarm. I'm sure the neighbors were just thrilled by this loud intrusion on a quiet weekend afternoon.
Amazingly, the car dealer never mentioned that this optional feature was included. I should have suspected when they didn't try to sell us Lojack, a system much hyped when we bought our Prizm in '99.
Good news: insurance rates will go down. Bad news: for convenience's sake, we need to go to a dealer to buy a second transmitter to turn the alarm on and off.
Err, I accidently just discovered that our new car has an alarm system when I stowed something in the glove box. Aparently opening the door with a key will trip the alarm. I'm sure the neighbors were just thrilled by this loud intrusion on a quiet weekend afternoon.
Amazingly, the car dealer never mentioned that this optional feature was included. I should have suspected when they didn't try to sell us Lojack, a system much hyped when we bought our Prizm in '99.
Good news: insurance rates will go down. Bad news: for convenience's sake, we need to go to a dealer to buy a second transmitter to turn the alarm on and off.
11.12.2003
Cars
Sigh. I've been waiting by the phone for a few days for the Purple Heart towing people to come get our wounded car. Just before I left for Florida, we decided to not sink any more money into our Prizm that needs new bearings and transaxle/transmission repairs, but to donate it to charity. It was such a great car when we first got it, but Philly streets have really done a number on the shocks, struts, and let's see...about 9 tires.
Tomorrow we pick up the "new" car. Finding something that fits our garage and budget with more cargo space has been incredibly frustrating. We finally found a low mileage Saturn wagon that fit all our criteria. The interior isn't quite as cushy as the Prizm, and the engine is a little louder, but after renting a Chevy Metro with no power anything (locks, windows, steering) for over two weeks, Joel is very excited to get the wagon. I think it will be cool to let Nicky ride in the back without shedding all over the seats. w00t.
Ring, phone, ring! Come get our sad ol' car so that we can transfer the tags!
Sigh. I've been waiting by the phone for a few days for the Purple Heart towing people to come get our wounded car. Just before I left for Florida, we decided to not sink any more money into our Prizm that needs new bearings and transaxle/transmission repairs, but to donate it to charity. It was such a great car when we first got it, but Philly streets have really done a number on the shocks, struts, and let's see...about 9 tires.
Tomorrow we pick up the "new" car. Finding something that fits our garage and budget with more cargo space has been incredibly frustrating. We finally found a low mileage Saturn wagon that fit all our criteria. The interior isn't quite as cushy as the Prizm, and the engine is a little louder, but after renting a Chevy Metro with no power anything (locks, windows, steering) for over two weeks, Joel is very excited to get the wagon. I think it will be cool to let Nicky ride in the back without shedding all over the seats. w00t.
Ring, phone, ring! Come get our sad ol' car so that we can transfer the tags!
11.08.2003
Home
Claire and I got home Thursday afternoon after a good but somewhat bumpy flight from Florida. Not only did my big brother fly back with me to help, but we also got a free seat for Claire, who took a nice big nap.
The past two weeks have been the most exhausting in recent memory. I was glad to be able to be supportive to my Mom during this difficult time. All those boring tasks of keeping her apartment in order—laundry, dishes, meals, tidying up—generally fell to me. Thankfully, neighbors and church friends dropped off food every day, so no heavy-duty cooking was required while I watched Claire.
Believe it or not, near the end my father was recovering from the pneumonia and sepsis. What did him in was the medication he takes for bipolar disorder. He'd been on lithium for 27 years and had likely been in toxicity for several weeks. It took a nephrologist to help us understand the level of severity of that toxicity, and the irreparable harm it had done to his body.
Dad survived extubation and transport to hospice last Saturday. It was the best decision we made to move him. Suddenly, we were away from all the machines, and no limits on how many can visit or for how long. I was even allowed to bring Claire into the hospice. The room was lovely and comfortable like a hotel room, with a view of the lagoon in the retirement community.
Mom stayed the night at hospice last Saturday. My brother woke at 4 a.m. Sunday unable to sleep and went to see Dad. Mom was so thankful he woke her, because he was able to move her bed next to Dad's so she could hold his hand the rest of the night. Mom called me at about 6:10 to say that Dad's breathing slowed way down, then just stopped. It was peaceful and she was able to be right there with him the way she wanted to.
I put in calls to her pastors, and one came out at 8 a.m. with an elder. Several other friends from the retirement community stopped by before church. The eye bank arrived shortly thereafter to get his corneas, the only usable organ he could donate.
The next three days were a whirlwind, helping pull together the memorial service for Wednesday afternoon. More family arrived little by little, making our preparations all the more difficult. Who wants to run errands and make phone calls when there are family to visit and share stories with?
The service turned out beautifully, however. It was just right and I feel like nothing important went undone. I'll post the memories I shared at the memorial service in another post.
I still feel like I have hardly begun to grieve, I was so busy in Florida and needed to be strong and fully functioning for my daughter. A close friend who has lost both parents warned me that the grief may not fully hit for several weeks.
Claire and I got home Thursday afternoon after a good but somewhat bumpy flight from Florida. Not only did my big brother fly back with me to help, but we also got a free seat for Claire, who took a nice big nap.
The past two weeks have been the most exhausting in recent memory. I was glad to be able to be supportive to my Mom during this difficult time. All those boring tasks of keeping her apartment in order—laundry, dishes, meals, tidying up—generally fell to me. Thankfully, neighbors and church friends dropped off food every day, so no heavy-duty cooking was required while I watched Claire.
Believe it or not, near the end my father was recovering from the pneumonia and sepsis. What did him in was the medication he takes for bipolar disorder. He'd been on lithium for 27 years and had likely been in toxicity for several weeks. It took a nephrologist to help us understand the level of severity of that toxicity, and the irreparable harm it had done to his body.
Dad survived extubation and transport to hospice last Saturday. It was the best decision we made to move him. Suddenly, we were away from all the machines, and no limits on how many can visit or for how long. I was even allowed to bring Claire into the hospice. The room was lovely and comfortable like a hotel room, with a view of the lagoon in the retirement community.
Mom stayed the night at hospice last Saturday. My brother woke at 4 a.m. Sunday unable to sleep and went to see Dad. Mom was so thankful he woke her, because he was able to move her bed next to Dad's so she could hold his hand the rest of the night. Mom called me at about 6:10 to say that Dad's breathing slowed way down, then just stopped. It was peaceful and she was able to be right there with him the way she wanted to.
I put in calls to her pastors, and one came out at 8 a.m. with an elder. Several other friends from the retirement community stopped by before church. The eye bank arrived shortly thereafter to get his corneas, the only usable organ he could donate.
The next three days were a whirlwind, helping pull together the memorial service for Wednesday afternoon. More family arrived little by little, making our preparations all the more difficult. Who wants to run errands and make phone calls when there are family to visit and share stories with?
The service turned out beautifully, however. It was just right and I feel like nothing important went undone. I'll post the memories I shared at the memorial service in another post.
I still feel like I have hardly begun to grieve, I was so busy in Florida and needed to be strong and fully functioning for my daughter. A close friend who has lost both parents warned me that the grief may not fully hit for several weeks.
11.02.2003
10.31.2003
Hospice
Dad started taking a turn for the worse yesterday. He began running a fever, and his platelets and electrolytes were still messed up. This morning we got bad news from the nephrologist--dad's kidney's have not been functioning normally. His salt levels have been so high since Sunday that irreversable brain damage has been caused. Even if the infections can be cured, he will never regain consciousness.
This afternoon, my mom and brother have a consult with the hospice staff. We want to move Dad back to the retirement community's hospice center to die peacefully. My mom is at peace about the decision, but at the same time scared and sad. She and Dad have been married 55 years.
It may sound strange, but it would be very meaningful to my family if Dad went home to the Lord on All Saint's Day. Dad has always been very enthusiastic about his faith and so open to what the Lord is doing.
It's hard to grasp the reality of losing a parent, even when I can see first hand that he is leaving us. I look at his hands and see him patiently teaching me to operate a darkroom, change a tire, paste up a newsletter page. I followed in his footsteps careerwise, a fact that made him so proud. I'm thankful he could walk me down the aisle on my wedding day and see Claire at least once.
Dad started taking a turn for the worse yesterday. He began running a fever, and his platelets and electrolytes were still messed up. This morning we got bad news from the nephrologist--dad's kidney's have not been functioning normally. His salt levels have been so high since Sunday that irreversable brain damage has been caused. Even if the infections can be cured, he will never regain consciousness.
This afternoon, my mom and brother have a consult with the hospice staff. We want to move Dad back to the retirement community's hospice center to die peacefully. My mom is at peace about the decision, but at the same time scared and sad. She and Dad have been married 55 years.
It may sound strange, but it would be very meaningful to my family if Dad went home to the Lord on All Saint's Day. Dad has always been very enthusiastic about his faith and so open to what the Lord is doing.
It's hard to grasp the reality of losing a parent, even when I can see first hand that he is leaving us. I look at his hands and see him patiently teaching me to operate a darkroom, change a tire, paste up a newsletter page. I followed in his footsteps careerwise, a fact that made him so proud. I'm thankful he could walk me down the aisle on my wedding day and see Claire at least once.
10.29.2003
Update
Thanks for your prayers and well wishes. My father was very close to death on Sunday. He has a type of stapf pneumonia and sepsis. On Monday morning, Claire and I flew down to Florida where I now write this on a wretched dial-up connection (I want my DSL! Waah!). My brother Steve was a huge help on the flight and Claire behaved exceptionally well, even without a morning nap. She has been a real trooper and brings a lot of joy to my family who've gathered down here.
As of today, my dad is still very seriously ill but improving, and the sepsis seems to be clearing up. The doctor who gave him 10% chance of survival on Sunday was actually very optimistic today. The pneumonia continues to be a worry. My dad will likely be in the ICU for several weeks recovering from the looks of things. We hope that tomorrow he'll be awake some after sleeping/being unconscious the past 48 hours, because two of my siblings have flights home in the afternoon. I and Steve are here until Sunday.
Thanks for your prayers and well wishes. My father was very close to death on Sunday. He has a type of stapf pneumonia and sepsis. On Monday morning, Claire and I flew down to Florida where I now write this on a wretched dial-up connection (I want my DSL! Waah!). My brother Steve was a huge help on the flight and Claire behaved exceptionally well, even without a morning nap. She has been a real trooper and brings a lot of joy to my family who've gathered down here.
As of today, my dad is still very seriously ill but improving, and the sepsis seems to be clearing up. The doctor who gave him 10% chance of survival on Sunday was actually very optimistic today. The pneumonia continues to be a worry. My dad will likely be in the ICU for several weeks recovering from the looks of things. We hope that tomorrow he'll be awake some after sleeping/being unconscious the past 48 hours, because two of my siblings have flights home in the afternoon. I and Steve are here until Sunday.
10.26.2003
Please pray
I'd appreciate your prayers. My father is gravely ill and not expected to survive the next few days (Joel gives some more details).
I'm going to be flying with Claire to Florida first thing in the morning. Fortunately, one of my older brothers got a connecting flight through Philadelphia so he can help me deal with a very active toddler on the 3-hour flight.
This is especially stressful because it was so sudden. I'm having a hard time thinking straight and just figuring out what to put in the suitcase.
I'd appreciate your prayers. My father is gravely ill and not expected to survive the next few days (Joel gives some more details).
I'm going to be flying with Claire to Florida first thing in the morning. Fortunately, one of my older brothers got a connecting flight through Philadelphia so he can help me deal with a very active toddler on the 3-hour flight.
This is especially stressful because it was so sudden. I'm having a hard time thinking straight and just figuring out what to put in the suitcase.
10.23.2003
Lost and going nowhere fast
During Joel's fall break we were able to get free babysitting and decided to go to the movies. (The last thing I saw in a theatre was Matrix Reloaded. How sad is that?)
On a friend's recommendation we saw Lost in Translation starring Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson. While the ads try to play up the comic aspects, this film's humor is pretty subtle. On the whole it felt far more like a drama.
Murray's character is a has-been Hollywood star who's visiting Tokyo to film a commercial. Johansson's a recent college grad in Tokyo with her husband, a photographer. The two are both plagued with insomnia and end up meeting in the hotel lounge and strike up a friendship.
As you follow each of them over several days, you see parallels--his career is over, hers hasn't begun yet. Both feel unneeded by their spouses. Both are deeply depressed and floundering to find any significance in their lives. Both are total outsiders in Japanese culture, though the younger one (Johansson) is willing to take some daytrips and explore on her own. Murray is routinely herded around by "handlers."
There are several quite funny scenes that highlight the Americans' inability to understand the Japanese language or culture. Yet the humor has an edge of the pathetic to it. You really feel sorry for these two lost souls.
During Joel's fall break we were able to get free babysitting and decided to go to the movies. (The last thing I saw in a theatre was Matrix Reloaded. How sad is that?)
On a friend's recommendation we saw Lost in Translation starring Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson. While the ads try to play up the comic aspects, this film's humor is pretty subtle. On the whole it felt far more like a drama.
Murray's character is a has-been Hollywood star who's visiting Tokyo to film a commercial. Johansson's a recent college grad in Tokyo with her husband, a photographer. The two are both plagued with insomnia and end up meeting in the hotel lounge and strike up a friendship.
As you follow each of them over several days, you see parallels--his career is over, hers hasn't begun yet. Both feel unneeded by their spouses. Both are deeply depressed and floundering to find any significance in their lives. Both are total outsiders in Japanese culture, though the younger one (Johansson) is willing to take some daytrips and explore on her own. Murray is routinely herded around by "handlers."
There are several quite funny scenes that highlight the Americans' inability to understand the Japanese language or culture. Yet the humor has an edge of the pathetic to it. You really feel sorry for these two lost souls.
10.15.2003
Pottypalooza?
I think this has to be about the strangest fund raiser for charity I've ever heard of. I saw an ad for it in the latest Budget Living and wondered why on earth the marketing folks at Charmin thought this was an appropriate activity to link to a charitable cause. Weirdos. Why can't they just ask people to send in UPCs like normal companies?
I think this has to be about the strangest fund raiser for charity I've ever heard of. I saw an ad for it in the latest Budget Living and wondered why on earth the marketing folks at Charmin thought this was an appropriate activity to link to a charitable cause. Weirdos. Why can't they just ask people to send in UPCs like normal companies?
10.13.2003
Questions for Emeth
1. What novel has had the greatest impact on your life? How so?
2. Like all siblings, I'm sure you and your brothers had plenty of squabbles growing up. Now that you're all young adults, what do you most appreciate and admire about Ben and Berek?
3. On your last few trips to the U.S., you got a taste of American life. What are some things you think will be the most challenging to adjust to when you come on a more long-term basis to study?
4. How do you and Davey complement or balance each other in terms of personality, skills and spiritual gifts?
5. As a special gift, a wealthy relative has hired a wedding coordinator to help you make all your wedding plans. What instructions do you give her (theme, colors, other details)?
1. What novel has had the greatest impact on your life? How so?
2. Like all siblings, I'm sure you and your brothers had plenty of squabbles growing up. Now that you're all young adults, what do you most appreciate and admire about Ben and Berek?
3. On your last few trips to the U.S., you got a taste of American life. What are some things you think will be the most challenging to adjust to when you come on a more long-term basis to study?
4. How do you and Davey complement or balance each other in terms of personality, skills and spiritual gifts?
5. As a special gift, a wealthy relative has hired a wedding coordinator to help you make all your wedding plans. What instructions do you give her (theme, colors, other details)?
10.12.2003
Good vibes
This morning on NPR Weekend Edition, Liane Hansen interviewed a hip, young vibraphone player known as Lalo. It was fun to hear how she got her first chance to play this funky percussion instrument in high school. Her school actually owned one that was collecting dust in a storage room.
I love the funky mix of techno and jazz that she's created. Her first album is definitely going on my wish list.
I got to try out marimba and vibes in high school too, thanks to a student teacher who came my senior year and was a percussion specialist. I was the only mallet player in the school, so I got more than my fair share of his time. He taught me rudimentary four mallet technique and I had a blast.
I think of the two instruments, marimba is more me. Vibes can be a bit, well, tingy and loungy. Marimba feels more organic. It include a lower octave than a xylophone. You play it with these soft yarn-covered mallets and get a really mellow sound, instead of the plinky xylophone sound.
Sigh. Buying my own marimba would be really high on my list if I were to come into a fortune.
In other highlights of the day, we got to meet Daniel Silliman , who was in the area visiting relatives. I thought it was way cool that he's double majoring in philosophy and journalism. Both Joel and I got to talk shop with him. Great fun. :-)
This morning on NPR Weekend Edition, Liane Hansen interviewed a hip, young vibraphone player known as Lalo. It was fun to hear how she got her first chance to play this funky percussion instrument in high school. Her school actually owned one that was collecting dust in a storage room.
I love the funky mix of techno and jazz that she's created. Her first album is definitely going on my wish list.
I got to try out marimba and vibes in high school too, thanks to a student teacher who came my senior year and was a percussion specialist. I was the only mallet player in the school, so I got more than my fair share of his time. He taught me rudimentary four mallet technique and I had a blast.
I think of the two instruments, marimba is more me. Vibes can be a bit, well, tingy and loungy. Marimba feels more organic. It include a lower octave than a xylophone. You play it with these soft yarn-covered mallets and get a really mellow sound, instead of the plinky xylophone sound.
Sigh. Buying my own marimba would be really high on my list if I were to come into a fortune.
In other highlights of the day, we got to meet Daniel Silliman , who was in the area visiting relatives. I thought it was way cool that he's double majoring in philosophy and journalism. Both Joel and I got to talk shop with him. Great fun. :-)
10.09.2003
Questions for Jennifer
I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to recycle one of the questions I gave Paul, because I'd like to hear how you'd answer it.
Here goes.
1. You grew up in a really large family. How has your growing up experience influenced how you parent your own children?
2. How, after attending an Anabaptist college, did you end up Presbyterian?
3. What do you like most and least about being a pastor's wife?
4. Who are your favorite literary heroines? With what fictional character have you felt the greatest kinship?
5. You just won a contest sponsored by Miramax. They offered to make any book of your choosing into a film. What book do you choose? What casting suggestions do you give?
When you post your answers on your blog, please include the following:
::If you would like to participate too, here are your instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions (not the same as you see here).
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.::
I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to recycle one of the questions I gave Paul, because I'd like to hear how you'd answer it.
Here goes.
1. You grew up in a really large family. How has your growing up experience influenced how you parent your own children?
2. How, after attending an Anabaptist college, did you end up Presbyterian?
3. What do you like most and least about being a pastor's wife?
4. Who are your favorite literary heroines? With what fictional character have you felt the greatest kinship?
5. You just won a contest sponsored by Miramax. They offered to make any book of your choosing into a film. What book do you choose? What casting suggestions do you give?
When you post your answers on your blog, please include the following:
::If you would like to participate too, here are your instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions (not the same as you see here).
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.::
10.07.2003
You turn your back for one minute....
(not for the squeamish)
This evening, I was helping gather up dinner items to carry out to the dining room, when I hear Joel let out a big "Aieee!" from the next room.
I ran to see what the matter was, and Joel walked into the kitchen carrying a tiny, maimed mouse.
"Claire was holding this, cuddling it close to her face!" Joel said. "Yuck! I mean, it's cute and all, but gross!" He carried it out the back door and plopped it in the garden. We then washed Claire's hands and face with antibacterial soap.
This mouse was really small, probably about an inch and a half body with a long tail. It must be a litter mate of the mouse Keats was tormenting last week. I doubt that little critter survived so many days after the mauling Keats gave it.
Note to self: Stop procrastinating. Buy traps.
(not for the squeamish)
This evening, I was helping gather up dinner items to carry out to the dining room, when I hear Joel let out a big "Aieee!" from the next room.
I ran to see what the matter was, and Joel walked into the kitchen carrying a tiny, maimed mouse.
"Claire was holding this, cuddling it close to her face!" Joel said. "Yuck! I mean, it's cute and all, but gross!" He carried it out the back door and plopped it in the garden. We then washed Claire's hands and face with antibacterial soap.
This mouse was really small, probably about an inch and a half body with a long tail. It must be a litter mate of the mouse Keats was tormenting last week. I doubt that little critter survived so many days after the mauling Keats gave it.
Note to self: Stop procrastinating. Buy traps.
10.05.2003
Questions for Paul
OK Duggie-meister, here are your questions:
1. You just won a contest sponsored by Miramax. They offered to make any book of your choosing into a film. What book do you choose? What casting suggestions do you give?
2. If you could have any of the following services free for the next year, which would you choose? Explain your choice.
a. a live-in housekeeper
b. a minivan chauffeur service for your family
c. a chef service that drops off hot meals to your door
d. a personal trainer and dietician to help your family be fit and healthy
e. a life coach to help you with your career, parenting, marriage relationship and any other emotional issues in your life
3. If you were offered a generous stipend to pursue an advanced degree, what would you study?
4. A wealthy relative offers to send you and Sylvia on a three-week all-expenses-paid dream vacation to celebrate your 10th anniversary (without the kids!). Where do you go?
5. If you had free rein to change the worship services at Tenth Presbyterian, what alterations would you make?
When you post your answers on your blog, please be sure to include the instructions (see my earlier post).
OK Duggie-meister, here are your questions:
1. You just won a contest sponsored by Miramax. They offered to make any book of your choosing into a film. What book do you choose? What casting suggestions do you give?
2. If you could have any of the following services free for the next year, which would you choose? Explain your choice.
a. a live-in housekeeper
b. a minivan chauffeur service for your family
c. a chef service that drops off hot meals to your door
d. a personal trainer and dietician to help your family be fit and healthy
e. a life coach to help you with your career, parenting, marriage relationship and any other emotional issues in your life
3. If you were offered a generous stipend to pursue an advanced degree, what would you study?
4. A wealthy relative offers to send you and Sylvia on a three-week all-expenses-paid dream vacation to celebrate your 10th anniversary (without the kids!). Where do you go?
5. If you had free rein to change the worship services at Tenth Presbyterian, what alterations would you make?
When you post your answers on your blog, please be sure to include the instructions (see my earlier post).
10.02.2003
Rats!
Or should I say "Mice!"? As I write this, my little black kitty Keats is tormenting a young, gray rodent under the buffet in my dining room. I suspected he had found some new prey when I heard him rambunctiously scampering around, his license clinkety-clinking.
The last I checked, he had the mouse cornered in a coiled piece of extension cord on the floor. The mouse would peep up his tiny, gray head every once in a while, only to receive a sound swat from Keats. While I don't relish the thought of the dirty rodent skittering across any part of my person, it is awfully cute and deserves to have a more humane death. Perhaps we should buy some traps. Quick and no torture.
I just hope I don't wake up to find a dead mouse on the threshold of our bedroom. Earlier this week that's where Keats left a pocket pack of Kleenex that he "killed" for us. Weird cat.
Or should I say "Mice!"? As I write this, my little black kitty Keats is tormenting a young, gray rodent under the buffet in my dining room. I suspected he had found some new prey when I heard him rambunctiously scampering around, his license clinkety-clinking.
The last I checked, he had the mouse cornered in a coiled piece of extension cord on the floor. The mouse would peep up his tiny, gray head every once in a while, only to receive a sound swat from Keats. While I don't relish the thought of the dirty rodent skittering across any part of my person, it is awfully cute and deserves to have a more humane death. Perhaps we should buy some traps. Quick and no torture.
I just hope I don't wake up to find a dead mouse on the threshold of our bedroom. Earlier this week that's where Keats left a pocket pack of Kleenex that he "killed" for us. Weird cat.
10.01.2003
Interview questions from Dawn
1. What is your favorite thing about your house? Why?
I think the location is still what I love most. We're in the city, with easy access to museums, fine dining and shopping, yet surrounded by lots of trees. Since I grew up in a rural area, trees are very important to me. Extensive hiking and biking trails are just a block away. At the same time, there's a movie theatre and wine shop within walking distance.
The area also has a strong sense of neighborhood. We actually know several of our neighbors' names and talk to them regularly. Many of the early 1900s homes are just really pretty to see as well.
2. If you had to choose only one artistic ability (sing, cook, draw/paint/etc., play an instrument, or another) to excel at what would it be?
I think I could happily forgo being a Broadway or opera star if I could excel at creative writing. I would love to write books for pre-teens and teenagers that capture their imaginations and help nerdy kids feel good about their particular strengths. It's something Madeleine L'Engle does well and why she remains one of my heroes.
3. Are you still liking being a "stay at home" mom? What is the most challenging?
I still really love being home, but I'm still in a honeymoon phase, I think. The most challenging part is yet to come, when discipline issues really come to the fore. Two-year-olds are very skilled at pushing their parents' buttons and wearing them down with persistent misbehavior (whining, tantrums, etc.).
4. Susan Howatch. I've read Wheel of Fortune. Where do I start in her other books?
I'd recommend going to what she wrote next, the Church of England series. The first book is Glittering Images, then Glamorous Powers, Ultimate Prizes, Scandalous Risks, Mystical Paths and Absolute Truths. The series is arranged chiastically. The first and sixth books deal with a father and son who represent the evangelical wing of Anglicanism. The second and fifth book deal with a different father and son, who represent the Anglo-Catholic and Charismatic wing. The central two books both look at one character from two points of view. He represents the liberals. I think he's central because liberalism became a kind of turning point in the church's history.
5. You've had a rather, um, eclectic history with churches. How did you come to the PCA and does a "Reformed" view fit well with your theology?
I came to the PCA in a rather circuitous way that seems kind of typical of my life. Here goes:
I got a low-paying job in the Philly area and needed a cheap place to stay. I called the only Southern Baptist church in the area (the denom. I was attending with my parents at home), and asked to put up a notice on their bulletin board. Within a week, a Christian family called me and offered a free place to stay if I would live with their elderly relative and do housework, laundry and errands. Within four months, the elderly woman died.
One of this lady's close friends decided to take me under her wing and invited me to attend church with her family. They, of course, attended Tenth Presbyterian. For quite a while, I continued attending the Southern Baptist church in the morning and Tenth Presby in the evening. A large part of what got me to leave the Baptists was the fact that they had almost no other single people in the congregation.
Going only to Tenth was a difficult transition in some ways. I hadn't grown up with infant baptism or such emphasis on doctrine. I found myself reacting to the first sermons I heard from James Boice with a mix of eagerness to hear more and irritation. I'll try to explain this in my answer to the second half of the question.
The second part of this question (does a "Reformed" view fit well with your theology?) is rather hard to answer. I think my faith has been strongly shaped by my eclectic background, and at heart I want to incorporate the strengths of several traditions. I think reformed preaching appeals to my intellectual side, and I prefer traditional worship on the whole. Most of my quibbles with the PCA are not theological. It's more matters of style, liturgy and attitude that bother me.
I've met too many reformed people who find assurance of their salvation in having the right ideas about Jesus and his atoning work, rather than through actual faith in Christ. The intellectualism that gets so much praise in reformed circles can in some ways be a liability. "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." I see people becoming discouraged because they're expected to be "theological racehorses" when their spiritual gifts lie elsewhere and rarely get used to build up the church. (My thanks to John B. for articulating this so well in a conference talk.)
I don't want to belabor the point here. I like a lot of things about our church. Some things I'd like to be different. Part of my faith journey has been an increased interest in liturgical worship. Aside from wanting to receive the Lord's Supper more often, I like the fact that liturgy is very Trinitarian. I think the Baptists frankly have a more robust view of the Holy Spirit than most Presbyterians I know.
I could probably be very happy as an Anglican, if there were any churches of the non-wacky-liberal variety anywhere near us.
::If you would like to participate too, here are your instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions (not the same as you see here).
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.::
1. What is your favorite thing about your house? Why?
I think the location is still what I love most. We're in the city, with easy access to museums, fine dining and shopping, yet surrounded by lots of trees. Since I grew up in a rural area, trees are very important to me. Extensive hiking and biking trails are just a block away. At the same time, there's a movie theatre and wine shop within walking distance.
The area also has a strong sense of neighborhood. We actually know several of our neighbors' names and talk to them regularly. Many of the early 1900s homes are just really pretty to see as well.
2. If you had to choose only one artistic ability (sing, cook, draw/paint/etc., play an instrument, or another) to excel at what would it be?
I think I could happily forgo being a Broadway or opera star if I could excel at creative writing. I would love to write books for pre-teens and teenagers that capture their imaginations and help nerdy kids feel good about their particular strengths. It's something Madeleine L'Engle does well and why she remains one of my heroes.
3. Are you still liking being a "stay at home" mom? What is the most challenging?
I still really love being home, but I'm still in a honeymoon phase, I think. The most challenging part is yet to come, when discipline issues really come to the fore. Two-year-olds are very skilled at pushing their parents' buttons and wearing them down with persistent misbehavior (whining, tantrums, etc.).
4. Susan Howatch. I've read Wheel of Fortune. Where do I start in her other books?
I'd recommend going to what she wrote next, the Church of England series. The first book is Glittering Images, then Glamorous Powers, Ultimate Prizes, Scandalous Risks, Mystical Paths and Absolute Truths. The series is arranged chiastically. The first and sixth books deal with a father and son who represent the evangelical wing of Anglicanism. The second and fifth book deal with a different father and son, who represent the Anglo-Catholic and Charismatic wing. The central two books both look at one character from two points of view. He represents the liberals. I think he's central because liberalism became a kind of turning point in the church's history.
5. You've had a rather, um, eclectic history with churches. How did you come to the PCA and does a "Reformed" view fit well with your theology?
I came to the PCA in a rather circuitous way that seems kind of typical of my life. Here goes:
I got a low-paying job in the Philly area and needed a cheap place to stay. I called the only Southern Baptist church in the area (the denom. I was attending with my parents at home), and asked to put up a notice on their bulletin board. Within a week, a Christian family called me and offered a free place to stay if I would live with their elderly relative and do housework, laundry and errands. Within four months, the elderly woman died.
One of this lady's close friends decided to take me under her wing and invited me to attend church with her family. They, of course, attended Tenth Presbyterian. For quite a while, I continued attending the Southern Baptist church in the morning and Tenth Presby in the evening. A large part of what got me to leave the Baptists was the fact that they had almost no other single people in the congregation.
Going only to Tenth was a difficult transition in some ways. I hadn't grown up with infant baptism or such emphasis on doctrine. I found myself reacting to the first sermons I heard from James Boice with a mix of eagerness to hear more and irritation. I'll try to explain this in my answer to the second half of the question.
The second part of this question (does a "Reformed" view fit well with your theology?) is rather hard to answer. I think my faith has been strongly shaped by my eclectic background, and at heart I want to incorporate the strengths of several traditions. I think reformed preaching appeals to my intellectual side, and I prefer traditional worship on the whole. Most of my quibbles with the PCA are not theological. It's more matters of style, liturgy and attitude that bother me.
I've met too many reformed people who find assurance of their salvation in having the right ideas about Jesus and his atoning work, rather than through actual faith in Christ. The intellectualism that gets so much praise in reformed circles can in some ways be a liability. "Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up." I see people becoming discouraged because they're expected to be "theological racehorses" when their spiritual gifts lie elsewhere and rarely get used to build up the church. (My thanks to John B. for articulating this so well in a conference talk.)
I don't want to belabor the point here. I like a lot of things about our church. Some things I'd like to be different. Part of my faith journey has been an increased interest in liturgical worship. Aside from wanting to receive the Lord's Supper more often, I like the fact that liturgy is very Trinitarian. I think the Baptists frankly have a more robust view of the Holy Spirit than most Presbyterians I know.
I could probably be very happy as an Anglican, if there were any churches of the non-wacky-liberal variety anywhere near us.
::If you would like to participate too, here are your instructions:
1. Leave me a comment saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions (not the same as you see here).
3. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.::
9.29.2003
Rental
If you're looking for something fun to rent from the video store this week, I recommend A Mighty Wind. It's another mockumenary from the creators of Best of Show. Many of the same actors appear in both films.
The writers really capture the documentary feel so well that you're shocked to laughter by some of the absurd things the actors say or do. I think it's that mixture of mock serious mixed with the silly and outlandish that also makes Monty Python so appealing.
I'm not especially familiar with the world of folk music, other than being vaguely aware that it was popular when I was little. Joel said that he thought the mock folk songs were fabulous parodies, then played a few Peter, Paul and Mary tunes to prove it. The writers did indeed satirize the genre amazingly well.
Perhaps the most funny of all is one of the female singers from the group "The New Main Street Singers" who explains her religion, WINC or "wink." The tenets of this faith include the worship of color. She and her husband do quirky rituals before each rehearsal and performance that are absolutely sidesplitting.
If you're looking for something fun to rent from the video store this week, I recommend A Mighty Wind. It's another mockumenary from the creators of Best of Show. Many of the same actors appear in both films.
The writers really capture the documentary feel so well that you're shocked to laughter by some of the absurd things the actors say or do. I think it's that mixture of mock serious mixed with the silly and outlandish that also makes Monty Python so appealing.
I'm not especially familiar with the world of folk music, other than being vaguely aware that it was popular when I was little. Joel said that he thought the mock folk songs were fabulous parodies, then played a few Peter, Paul and Mary tunes to prove it. The writers did indeed satirize the genre amazingly well.
Perhaps the most funny of all is one of the female singers from the group "The New Main Street Singers" who explains her religion, WINC or "wink." The tenets of this faith include the worship of color. She and her husband do quirky rituals before each rehearsal and performance that are absolutely sidesplitting.
9.25.2003
Aaah shelf space
In the spirit of non-hoarding, I want to get rid of some of my books. For a while I belonged to three book groups and read some stuff I didn't much care for. Some I've earmaked to pass on to others who might enjoy the stories I didn't like. The others I can't in good conscience recommend.
Here are a few examples:
Personal History by Katharine Graham. Too long. Annoyingly huge amount of name dropping. You'd think a newspaper publisher could be more pithy and tell only the really interesting bits.
Waiting by Ha Jin. A love story in communist China that is more frustrating than Remains of the Day. Characters become increasingly unlikable as the story progresses.
Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund. This book starts great, then takes a major swerve with twists that strain credulity more than I'm willing to suspend disbelief.
It's not a huge pile, maybe 10 or 12 books altogether. I'm thinking of selling them on amazon.com. Have any of you done this before? Any tips? Pitfalls to avoid?
In the spirit of non-hoarding, I want to get rid of some of my books. For a while I belonged to three book groups and read some stuff I didn't much care for. Some I've earmaked to pass on to others who might enjoy the stories I didn't like. The others I can't in good conscience recommend.
Here are a few examples:
Personal History by Katharine Graham. Too long. Annoyingly huge amount of name dropping. You'd think a newspaper publisher could be more pithy and tell only the really interesting bits.
Waiting by Ha Jin. A love story in communist China that is more frustrating than Remains of the Day. Characters become increasingly unlikable as the story progresses.
Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund. This book starts great, then takes a major swerve with twists that strain credulity more than I'm willing to suspend disbelief.
It's not a huge pile, maybe 10 or 12 books altogether. I'm thinking of selling them on amazon.com. Have any of you done this before? Any tips? Pitfalls to avoid?
9.23.2003
Waaah!
I just realized I have less than a week until the big 3-5. It kind of sneaked up on me this year. Soon I won't be able to say "I'm in my early 30s" without lying outright.
On the bright side, we're going to a cool, free Celtic music festival on Saturday to celebrate. Wahoo!
I just realized I have less than a week until the big 3-5. It kind of sneaked up on me this year. Soon I won't be able to say "I'm in my early 30s" without lying outright.
On the bright side, we're going to a cool, free Celtic music festival on Saturday to celebrate. Wahoo!
9.22.2003
Hoarding
I was re-reading the last issue of re:generation quarterly (now defunct) and came across a great article on homemaking. What really stuck with me was this (a rough paraphrase, because I can't find the issue today):
"Jesus said that if we hoard our possessions, they will rot."
That really nailed me to the wall, because I have a terrible time parting with clothes, even if I never wear them. The author challenged readers to see our hoarding of stuff rather than giving as stealing from the poor.
It really felt like a breakthough to hear this. I hit the closets harder than I ever had before. I tried to picture the woman who really needed the clothes I wasn't wearing. A blazer and skirt for the single mom trying to make it and raise her kids alone. Jeans for a teenager whose parents neglect her. A sweater for an elderly woman scraping by on Social Security.
Filling bag after bag became like a prayer. Bless her, and her and her and her. Wrap Your love around every one who receives these clothes. And thank You for Your abundance. Help me to always rush to give and hesitate to hoard.
I was re-reading the last issue of re:generation quarterly (now defunct) and came across a great article on homemaking. What really stuck with me was this (a rough paraphrase, because I can't find the issue today):
"Jesus said that if we hoard our possessions, they will rot."
That really nailed me to the wall, because I have a terrible time parting with clothes, even if I never wear them. The author challenged readers to see our hoarding of stuff rather than giving as stealing from the poor.
It really felt like a breakthough to hear this. I hit the closets harder than I ever had before. I tried to picture the woman who really needed the clothes I wasn't wearing. A blazer and skirt for the single mom trying to make it and raise her kids alone. Jeans for a teenager whose parents neglect her. A sweater for an elderly woman scraping by on Social Security.
Filling bag after bag became like a prayer. Bless her, and her and her and her. Wrap Your love around every one who receives these clothes. And thank You for Your abundance. Help me to always rush to give and hesitate to hoard.
9.15.2003
A calling
This evening I was looking through a book on various saints that someone gave Claire as a gift. I found some food for thought in the entry on Ann, the mother of Mary and patron of homemakers:
"Human beings are not like birds, whose instincts tell them how to make the right nest for their offspring. Homemakers must use their minds to discover how to create a home that will protect, nurture and teach the children who belong there. While each bird hatched in the nest is almost identical to all the other birds in the species, no human child is like any other. The homemaker works to create a place and make the time in which each unique child has a chance to grow and flower into a strong and loving person for whom the world will give thanks.
"Making a home that protects children has less to do with locks and bolts than with the loving presence of a homemaker who is aware of the many dangers children face, both body and soul. The homemaker employs experience and foresight to guard the children from such danger. A true homemaker does not run a fast-food concession. She or he knows that meals shared around the family table not only provide better nutrition but also help prepare them for life in the community outside the home.
"The homemaker teaches the children of the household not only by direct instruction but by creating the home environment: Tables and chairs are arranged with children in mind; storage cases, cabinets and dressers are provided to encourage children to be independent and orderly. The homemaker is true to this vocation when she or he makes the home's simple, everyday objects speak to the children of their own dignity." (Patrons and Protectors: Occupations, Liturgy Training Publications, Chicago, 2001)
I've been somewhat concerned about the level of priority that's appropriate to give tidyness when parenting a small child. So many of my peers keep a different standard than what I grew up with. I wonder if I'm becoming too persnickety. But this excerpt did bolster my belief that creating an orderly environment is an important part of helping children grow, giving them a sense of safety, proportion and rhythm.
This evening I was looking through a book on various saints that someone gave Claire as a gift. I found some food for thought in the entry on Ann, the mother of Mary and patron of homemakers:
"Human beings are not like birds, whose instincts tell them how to make the right nest for their offspring. Homemakers must use their minds to discover how to create a home that will protect, nurture and teach the children who belong there. While each bird hatched in the nest is almost identical to all the other birds in the species, no human child is like any other. The homemaker works to create a place and make the time in which each unique child has a chance to grow and flower into a strong and loving person for whom the world will give thanks.
"Making a home that protects children has less to do with locks and bolts than with the loving presence of a homemaker who is aware of the many dangers children face, both body and soul. The homemaker employs experience and foresight to guard the children from such danger. A true homemaker does not run a fast-food concession. She or he knows that meals shared around the family table not only provide better nutrition but also help prepare them for life in the community outside the home.
"The homemaker teaches the children of the household not only by direct instruction but by creating the home environment: Tables and chairs are arranged with children in mind; storage cases, cabinets and dressers are provided to encourage children to be independent and orderly. The homemaker is true to this vocation when she or he makes the home's simple, everyday objects speak to the children of their own dignity." (Patrons and Protectors: Occupations, Liturgy Training Publications, Chicago, 2001)
I've been somewhat concerned about the level of priority that's appropriate to give tidyness when parenting a small child. So many of my peers keep a different standard than what I grew up with. I wonder if I'm becoming too persnickety. But this excerpt did bolster my belief that creating an orderly environment is an important part of helping children grow, giving them a sense of safety, proportion and rhythm.
9.09.2003
Abundance
Choir started for the year, and it's great to be singing with a group again after a 9 year hiatus. One side benefit of joining the group, I thought, would be getting to know more people at church.
God knows what we need better than we know ourselves sometimes. At rehearsal last night, the director asked all the new people to introduce ourselves. He started with the sopranos, so I explained that I'm a stay-at-home-mom and where I live in the city. When the altos started intoducing themselves, one of the women said she also was a SAHM in the same section of the city and that she really wanted to talk to me afterwards because she's new to the area and "I really need friends."
We talked after rehearsal, and it turns out this gal lives on the street that runs parallel to mine, basically just ONE BLOCK away! We were both really excited. She has use of a car most days, and I know the area fairly well, so it will be fun to have someone to errand run and explore with. Her son is 2 1/2, so it will be interesting to see how the kids interact.
I'd had a kind of secret wish for a friend who's close by to do things with, but hadn't ever articulated this desire to anyone, or even specifically prayed for it. God truly does provide more than we ask or imagine.
Choir started for the year, and it's great to be singing with a group again after a 9 year hiatus. One side benefit of joining the group, I thought, would be getting to know more people at church.
God knows what we need better than we know ourselves sometimes. At rehearsal last night, the director asked all the new people to introduce ourselves. He started with the sopranos, so I explained that I'm a stay-at-home-mom and where I live in the city. When the altos started intoducing themselves, one of the women said she also was a SAHM in the same section of the city and that she really wanted to talk to me afterwards because she's new to the area and "I really need friends."
We talked after rehearsal, and it turns out this gal lives on the street that runs parallel to mine, basically just ONE BLOCK away! We were both really excited. She has use of a car most days, and I know the area fairly well, so it will be fun to have someone to errand run and explore with. Her son is 2 1/2, so it will be interesting to see how the kids interact.
I'd had a kind of secret wish for a friend who's close by to do things with, but hadn't ever articulated this desire to anyone, or even specifically prayed for it. God truly does provide more than we ask or imagine.
9.06.2003
1 kraZ mama
How utterly kewl is this? I found a pair of Rollerblades (yep, the brand name ones) in my size for just $10 at a yard sale. They threw in the full set of knee, elbow and wrist pads for free. I'd been scouring yard sales all summer in search of blades for a more fun workout. I never dreamed I'd find them so cheap.
I first tried blading two years ago at a roller rink and thought it was fun. It's more like ice skating, which I can do without embarrassing myself too much. Today I took Claire and the stroller and my new blades (and pads and a helmet) to the River Drive to get rolling.
I don't know what I was thinking. I have next to no experience and set off using the stroller to balance. That was well and good until I hit a slight incline. I didn't know how to get enough momentum to go uphill, or how to safely slow down going downhill. At one point I had to roll off the trail into some grass to slow down and banged the stoller into a fence. My water bottle went flying, making the impact seem harder than it really was. Claire was unphased, but I was really shaken. My good sense returned and I knew I needed to take off the skates, go to a flat place, then try skating.
I did pretty well on the flat. My ankles and hips got a bit achy, but I'm beginning to get the hang of this skating thing. My rule of thumb for now is NO HILLS. And definitely no hills while pushing the stroller.
How utterly kewl is this? I found a pair of Rollerblades (yep, the brand name ones) in my size for just $10 at a yard sale. They threw in the full set of knee, elbow and wrist pads for free. I'd been scouring yard sales all summer in search of blades for a more fun workout. I never dreamed I'd find them so cheap.
I first tried blading two years ago at a roller rink and thought it was fun. It's more like ice skating, which I can do without embarrassing myself too much. Today I took Claire and the stroller and my new blades (and pads and a helmet) to the River Drive to get rolling.
I don't know what I was thinking. I have next to no experience and set off using the stroller to balance. That was well and good until I hit a slight incline. I didn't know how to get enough momentum to go uphill, or how to safely slow down going downhill. At one point I had to roll off the trail into some grass to slow down and banged the stoller into a fence. My water bottle went flying, making the impact seem harder than it really was. Claire was unphased, but I was really shaken. My good sense returned and I knew I needed to take off the skates, go to a flat place, then try skating.
I did pretty well on the flat. My ankles and hips got a bit achy, but I'm beginning to get the hang of this skating thing. My rule of thumb for now is NO HILLS. And definitely no hills while pushing the stroller.
9.04.2003
Crisis averted
Whew. We heard from the vet today and Keats' blood tests were normal. The vet thinks he was licking his leg repeatedly because of an allergy (the area he's licking is rashy). The vet thinks the continence issue might be related to that.
I think it might really be a territorial thing. The spot he liked to pee on was some cotton rugs we'd layed out for Nicky to nap on. The rugs sit right next to Keats' feeding area. It would make sense for him to become suddenly territorial with Nicky after we returned from vacation. Keats needed to re-establish hierarchy here after spending 18 days carving out his hierarchical spot among my brother's pets.
The weight loss could have also occurred while we were on the road. Keats may actually be regaining weight lost then. After all, Nicky usually goes on a hunger strike for a few days when we leave him with a pet sitter. Keats likely did the same.
Joel thinks my UTI hypothesis might still be correct, since the vet wasn't able to collect a sample for urinalysis. No fever could mean he was getting better on his own.
We're just glad it's nothing serious. The possible diabetes diagnosis was especially scary. It would have meant type I diabetes since he is so young and thin. A special diet for an aging fat cat is one thing, daily insulin shots is another matter altogether.
Whew. We heard from the vet today and Keats' blood tests were normal. The vet thinks he was licking his leg repeatedly because of an allergy (the area he's licking is rashy). The vet thinks the continence issue might be related to that.
I think it might really be a territorial thing. The spot he liked to pee on was some cotton rugs we'd layed out for Nicky to nap on. The rugs sit right next to Keats' feeding area. It would make sense for him to become suddenly territorial with Nicky after we returned from vacation. Keats needed to re-establish hierarchy here after spending 18 days carving out his hierarchical spot among my brother's pets.
The weight loss could have also occurred while we were on the road. Keats may actually be regaining weight lost then. After all, Nicky usually goes on a hunger strike for a few days when we leave him with a pet sitter. Keats likely did the same.
Joel thinks my UTI hypothesis might still be correct, since the vet wasn't able to collect a sample for urinalysis. No fever could mean he was getting better on his own.
We're just glad it's nothing serious. The possible diabetes diagnosis was especially scary. It would have meant type I diabetes since he is so young and thin. A special diet for an aging fat cat is one thing, daily insulin shots is another matter altogether.
9.03.2003
Kitty crisis
Mr. Keats has had some continence problems lately, so I asked Joel to take him to the vet. I figured it was just a urinary tract infection. Well, the vet said Keats doesn't have other UTI symptoms like a fever. His thirst and weight loss over the past 3 months did worry the vet though.
So they took some blood and are testing Keats for feline diabetes and kidney disease. Neither diagnosis sounds like a fun road ahead to me. We frankly can't afford the costly care if he has either condition, but I don't relish the thought of having to put down a cat who's only 2 years old. :-( I doubt anyone would be keen to adopt a chronically ill pet.
There is an outside chance that Keats has an anxiety disorder, because he also licked part of one of his legs bald. If that's the case, a month on medication should cure him.
We'll have a better idea when the lab results come in. It's hard not to worry about the worst case scenario.
Mr. Keats has had some continence problems lately, so I asked Joel to take him to the vet. I figured it was just a urinary tract infection. Well, the vet said Keats doesn't have other UTI symptoms like a fever. His thirst and weight loss over the past 3 months did worry the vet though.
So they took some blood and are testing Keats for feline diabetes and kidney disease. Neither diagnosis sounds like a fun road ahead to me. We frankly can't afford the costly care if he has either condition, but I don't relish the thought of having to put down a cat who's only 2 years old. :-( I doubt anyone would be keen to adopt a chronically ill pet.
There is an outside chance that Keats has an anxiety disorder, because he also licked part of one of his legs bald. If that's the case, a month on medication should cure him.
We'll have a better idea when the lab results come in. It's hard not to worry about the worst case scenario.
8.31.2003
Welcome to geezerhood
This week Joel will finally be the same age as me. Of course, I get to forge ahead further into geezerhood at the end of the month.
I don't know why I was always so eager to be a year older when I was a kid. I think I'm finally beginning to understand that whole "29 and holding" thing.
This week Joel will finally be the same age as me. Of course, I get to forge ahead further into geezerhood at the end of the month.
I don't know why I was always so eager to be a year older when I was a kid. I think I'm finally beginning to understand that whole "29 and holding" thing.
8.30.2003
Pen pals
While cleaning out a closet, I came across a bundle of old letters from a pen pal I had through high school and college. Talk about a blast from the past, some of the letters date back to 1982! I'd met this fellow at a Christian summer camp and we became friends because of a mutual interest in music.
How exciting it used to be to get mail. But of course, the letters seemed so few and far between. I envy modern kids and their online pen pals, able to shoot replies in no time, e-mail photos, IM or even use a Web cam. Of course, they miss some of the goofy goodies my pen pal used to send--Canadian coins, broken strings from his violin, stickers and French vocabulary lists.
I wish I knew exactly what I'd written in my first letter to this pen pal. I'm sure it was something dreadfully sassy, because he replied "I didn't expect any of the girls to fall madly in love with me, so don't give yourself credit with uncovering any of my suppositions." LOL. I must have accused him of being flirtatious, the sort of thing a 13-year-old girl considers high treason in male friends.
As I read through the stack, it was a little sad to see how ordinary the letters were--talk of the weather, school and grades, learning new instuments in band, family trips, plans for college. This fellow seemed so much more witty when I was 14, 15, 16 years old.
The last time we met in person was 1986. I was heading off for Messiah with new contact lenses and big dreams. He still had grade 13 to complete.
We stopped corresponding in college. I'm not sure which of us stopped answering the other's letters. Today it strikes me as a little sad that I've lost track of so many old friends.
Dear John from Altamonte, Ontario,
Do you remember meeting me at Camp Susque? We were going into 9th grade. We wrote letters regularly for the next six or seven years. What ever happened to you, John?
I graduated with an English degree, worked in publishing for 10 years, got a master's degree, got married, and now have a great kid. She loves to play our piano (not very well though, she's only one!).
Please write back soon.
While cleaning out a closet, I came across a bundle of old letters from a pen pal I had through high school and college. Talk about a blast from the past, some of the letters date back to 1982! I'd met this fellow at a Christian summer camp and we became friends because of a mutual interest in music.
How exciting it used to be to get mail. But of course, the letters seemed so few and far between. I envy modern kids and their online pen pals, able to shoot replies in no time, e-mail photos, IM or even use a Web cam. Of course, they miss some of the goofy goodies my pen pal used to send--Canadian coins, broken strings from his violin, stickers and French vocabulary lists.
I wish I knew exactly what I'd written in my first letter to this pen pal. I'm sure it was something dreadfully sassy, because he replied "I didn't expect any of the girls to fall madly in love with me, so don't give yourself credit with uncovering any of my suppositions." LOL. I must have accused him of being flirtatious, the sort of thing a 13-year-old girl considers high treason in male friends.
As I read through the stack, it was a little sad to see how ordinary the letters were--talk of the weather, school and grades, learning new instuments in band, family trips, plans for college. This fellow seemed so much more witty when I was 14, 15, 16 years old.
The last time we met in person was 1986. I was heading off for Messiah with new contact lenses and big dreams. He still had grade 13 to complete.
We stopped corresponding in college. I'm not sure which of us stopped answering the other's letters. Today it strikes me as a little sad that I've lost track of so many old friends.
Dear John from Altamonte, Ontario,
Do you remember meeting me at Camp Susque? We were going into 9th grade. We wrote letters regularly for the next six or seven years. What ever happened to you, John?
I graduated with an English degree, worked in publishing for 10 years, got a master's degree, got married, and now have a great kid. She loves to play our piano (not very well though, she's only one!).
Please write back soon.
8.26.2003
Why I love my job
It is really, really cool to have the time flexibility of a SAHM. I was able to spend the morning today at my injured friend's house helping out with some housekeeping and a meal. I never would have been able to do that while I was working. Even my weekends were busy with errands and chores.
I also played with my starting-to-walk kid for hours, reading stories and singing songs. Her new word for the week is "cracker." I would have missed her first steps and new words if I were working.
And tonight I made two batches of peach jam. Mmm mmm. I love keeping up all these great domestic skills my mom taught me as a kid that no one I know does any more. I know people who knit, make their own bread and grow fresh vegetables, but I don't know anyone else who still cans. And it's quite easy--especially jam.
It is really, really cool to have the time flexibility of a SAHM. I was able to spend the morning today at my injured friend's house helping out with some housekeeping and a meal. I never would have been able to do that while I was working. Even my weekends were busy with errands and chores.
I also played with my starting-to-walk kid for hours, reading stories and singing songs. Her new word for the week is "cracker." I would have missed her first steps and new words if I were working.
And tonight I made two batches of peach jam. Mmm mmm. I love keeping up all these great domestic skills my mom taught me as a kid that no one I know does any more. I know people who knit, make their own bread and grow fresh vegetables, but I don't know anyone else who still cans. And it's quite easy--especially jam.
8.23.2003
Owie!
Please pray for hierogrammate's wife. She broke her leg today at a church women's brunch (slid on an embankment outside). They have two small kids, age 2 and 4, and no bathroom on the first floor of their 3-story twin.
We her friends also need wisdom in knowing how to be of help to the family. One thing that's pretty obvious is that it's time to take my compulsive tidying on the road. ;-)
Please pray for hierogrammate's wife. She broke her leg today at a church women's brunch (slid on an embankment outside). They have two small kids, age 2 and 4, and no bathroom on the first floor of their 3-story twin.
We her friends also need wisdom in knowing how to be of help to the family. One thing that's pretty obvious is that it's time to take my compulsive tidying on the road. ;-)
8.21.2003
By accident
I just remembered something funny from vacation when we attended church in Atlanta.
When we picked up Claire from the church nursery, one of the workers handed us Claire's diaper bag and said "Oh, she had an accident."
Our reaction was, "Oh! Is she OK?" thinking she'd fallen, bonked her head or pinched her fingers.
"Oh yes," the worker said, "we changed her diaper at about 11:45."
Is this just one of those weird Southern affectations, not saying things like "dirty diaper"? In my mind, only the toilet-trained can have accidents. A baby using a diaper for its intended purpose is not "an accident," it's very deliberate!
I just remembered something funny from vacation when we attended church in Atlanta.
When we picked up Claire from the church nursery, one of the workers handed us Claire's diaper bag and said "Oh, she had an accident."
Our reaction was, "Oh! Is she OK?" thinking she'd fallen, bonked her head or pinched her fingers.
"Oh yes," the worker said, "we changed her diaper at about 11:45."
Is this just one of those weird Southern affectations, not saying things like "dirty diaper"? In my mind, only the toilet-trained can have accidents. A baby using a diaper for its intended purpose is not "an accident," it's very deliberate!
Quiz quandary
Well, I took the "What Country Are You?" quiz and got a surprising answer. I'm not sure what to make of it. Any interpretations? Tell me in the comments.
After almost endless suffering, you've finally freed yourself from the oppression that somehow held you back. Now your diamond in the rough is shining through, and the world can accept you for who you really are. You were trying to show who you were to the world, but they weren't interested in helping you become that until it was almost too late. Suddenly you're a very hopeful person, even if you still have some troubles.
Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid
Well, I took the "What Country Are You?" quiz and got a surprising answer. I'm not sure what to make of it. Any interpretations? Tell me in the comments.
You're South Africa!
After almost endless suffering, you've finally freed yourself from the oppression that somehow held you back. Now your diamond in the rough is shining through, and the world can accept you for who you really are. You were trying to show who you were to the world, but they weren't interested in helping you become that until it was almost too late. Suddenly you're a very hopeful person, even if you still have some troubles.
8.19.2003
Borrowed time
My luck will likely run out soon. Claire has been napping 3-4 hours a day while she's in a current growth spurt. It's been great getting cleaning and organizing projects done, walking the dog and even blogging occasionally while she rests.
My project list is entirely too long. Five closets need serious attention. The study is a fire hazard, as is the basement. I have to keep reminding myself that I really can take months to do these projects if necessary. Having fun with Claire and helping her learn is really my core job anyway.
My luck will likely run out soon. Claire has been napping 3-4 hours a day while she's in a current growth spurt. It's been great getting cleaning and organizing projects done, walking the dog and even blogging occasionally while she rests.
My project list is entirely too long. Five closets need serious attention. The study is a fire hazard, as is the basement. I have to keep reminding myself that I really can take months to do these projects if necessary. Having fun with Claire and helping her learn is really my core job anyway.
8.18.2003
Reader's lament
Last night I discovered that Susan Howatch's much anticipated new St. Benet's novel, The Heartbreaker, is out. In fact, it has been out since April. Unfortunately, this seems like news I have to receive with fingers in both ears while whistling loudly because it's only available in hardback from Amazon UK. Not exactly in our budget right now. The paperback is available for pre-order if anyone really wants to make my late September birthday extra happy. ;-)
Carter Graham is back with her new, more feminine name, Carta. She's now doing fundraising for St. Benet's instead of working as a high-powered tax attorney. The setting is 1990s London during the recession. I'm eager to see how the story unfolds.
In the U.S., several of Howatch's early Gothic novels are back in print. These might be worth a read, not sure. One of the women in our book group had been somewhat prejudiced against Howatch because the early novels that made her popular had such sordid, overblown plots. I kind of thought that was just the expectation for the Gothic genre. This friend was really blown away by Howatch's 2000 novel The High Flyer, so I'm guessing early Howatch may really disappoint.
Last night I discovered that Susan Howatch's much anticipated new St. Benet's novel, The Heartbreaker, is out. In fact, it has been out since April. Unfortunately, this seems like news I have to receive with fingers in both ears while whistling loudly because it's only available in hardback from Amazon UK. Not exactly in our budget right now. The paperback is available for pre-order if anyone really wants to make my late September birthday extra happy. ;-)
Carter Graham is back with her new, more feminine name, Carta. She's now doing fundraising for St. Benet's instead of working as a high-powered tax attorney. The setting is 1990s London during the recession. I'm eager to see how the story unfolds.
In the U.S., several of Howatch's early Gothic novels are back in print. These might be worth a read, not sure. One of the women in our book group had been somewhat prejudiced against Howatch because the early novels that made her popular had such sordid, overblown plots. I kind of thought that was just the expectation for the Gothic genre. This friend was really blown away by Howatch's 2000 novel The High Flyer, so I'm guessing early Howatch may really disappoint.
8.17.2003
Par-tay
Saturday we had a little shindig to celebrate Claire's first birthday, which is this week. I really had fun preparing. The theme was "indoor picninc." The "indoor" part was wise because a thunderstorm hit during the middle of the party.
The menu included wonderful picnic food: barbecue chicken, homemade potato and macaroni salads, fruit salad, three kinds of chips, cake and homemade ice cream. We decorated with checked tablecloths and napkins, lots of baskets, streamers and balloons. I set up a teddy bear picinic tableau on the mantle, which I thought the kid guests and grandmothers would enjoy. Here's a pic:
Claire wore an uber-cute embroidered party dress and had a great time playing with the pint-sized guests.
New toys and old ended up strewn from one end of the house to the other. It was really hard to turn off what I now realize is a compulsive tidying streak. I think the compulsive tidying is why I have such a hard time cooking. I feel like I have to wash every item I dirty right then and there.
Saturday we had a little shindig to celebrate Claire's first birthday, which is this week. I really had fun preparing. The theme was "indoor picninc." The "indoor" part was wise because a thunderstorm hit during the middle of the party.
The menu included wonderful picnic food: barbecue chicken, homemade potato and macaroni salads, fruit salad, three kinds of chips, cake and homemade ice cream. We decorated with checked tablecloths and napkins, lots of baskets, streamers and balloons. I set up a teddy bear picinic tableau on the mantle, which I thought the kid guests and grandmothers would enjoy. Here's a pic:
Claire wore an uber-cute embroidered party dress and had a great time playing with the pint-sized guests.
New toys and old ended up strewn from one end of the house to the other. It was really hard to turn off what I now realize is a compulsive tidying streak. I think the compulsive tidying is why I have such a hard time cooking. I feel like I have to wash every item I dirty right then and there.
8.15.2003
Night terrors
Last night while we were watching the evening news, Claire suddenly woke up screaming. It's not unusual for her to wake between 11 and midnight, cry for 10 seconds then fall back to sleep. But this was different--she wasn't crying the "I'm thirsty" or "I'm so tired" cry. She was really freaked out.
We went up to see what was the matter. Even when I held her she wouldn't stop crying. She didn't want a drink and wailed inconsolably regardless of which of us held her. I thought the two parent ruckus might be too much, so I sent Joel to bed and tried rocking Claire on the twin bed in her room. As soon as he shut the door, she screamed even louder and started kicking.
I started to worry that she had gas pain or some other health problem, so I switched on a table lamp with a low watt bulb that we keep in her room to get a better look. She seemed to calm down almost immediately.
It was a mommy Aha moment. My baby is becoming a toddler! She's now afraid of the dark.
When Joel had left the room, he'd cut the ambient light coming in from the next room. Ah.
I put Claire back in her crib and gave her her favorite blanket. She flopped sleepily on it and looked up at me as if to say, "what took you so long to make the bad dark to go away?"
Now she has her very own night light.
Next stop, tantrums and picky eating....
Last night while we were watching the evening news, Claire suddenly woke up screaming. It's not unusual for her to wake between 11 and midnight, cry for 10 seconds then fall back to sleep. But this was different--she wasn't crying the "I'm thirsty" or "I'm so tired" cry. She was really freaked out.
We went up to see what was the matter. Even when I held her she wouldn't stop crying. She didn't want a drink and wailed inconsolably regardless of which of us held her. I thought the two parent ruckus might be too much, so I sent Joel to bed and tried rocking Claire on the twin bed in her room. As soon as he shut the door, she screamed even louder and started kicking.
I started to worry that she had gas pain or some other health problem, so I switched on a table lamp with a low watt bulb that we keep in her room to get a better look. She seemed to calm down almost immediately.
It was a mommy Aha moment. My baby is becoming a toddler! She's now afraid of the dark.
When Joel had left the room, he'd cut the ambient light coming in from the next room. Ah.
I put Claire back in her crib and gave her her favorite blanket. She flopped sleepily on it and looked up at me as if to say, "what took you so long to make the bad dark to go away?"
Now she has her very own night light.
Next stop, tantrums and picky eating....
8.11.2003
Knit wits
I occasionally peek at some of the blogs on Dawn's copious blogroll and came across this one. It's somewhat interesting to hear about others' creative endeavors, as long as some other topics are thrown in. Ya know, a little variety.
I can't imagine being so engrossed in a hobby that I'd want to make it my exclusive blogging topic. Excuse me, but, BOR-ing.
The really scary part is that a whole host of the knitting obsessed blog their yarns about, well, yarn...
I have heaps of embriodery floss. Many needles. Much aida cloth. But I don't intend to catalog how many Xs I stitched today. So please send me a cyber-slap if this blog ever becomes a hobby-obsessed abyss. Thanks.
I occasionally peek at some of the blogs on Dawn's copious blogroll and came across this one. It's somewhat interesting to hear about others' creative endeavors, as long as some other topics are thrown in. Ya know, a little variety.
I can't imagine being so engrossed in a hobby that I'd want to make it my exclusive blogging topic. Excuse me, but, BOR-ing.
The really scary part is that a whole host of the knitting obsessed blog their yarns about, well, yarn...
I have heaps of embriodery floss. Many needles. Much aida cloth. But I don't intend to catalog how many Xs I stitched today. So please send me a cyber-slap if this blog ever becomes a hobby-obsessed abyss. Thanks.
Blogger meeting
Among the highlights of our trip last month was meeting Dawn and Barb in Ohio. Barb's dog Angus and our Nicky became fast friends, being the same size and equally up for playing tag. Barb's cat Eleven, however, was far less enthusiastic than Nicky about any sort of friendship.
You see, Nicky mistook Barb's small, black feline for our small, black feline, Keats. Nicky was really missing his kitty brother who came to our home as a kitten and enjoys a good wrestling match every once in a while. Eleven, however, is far too dignified for such shenanigans. Nicky chased the poor kitty in circles and he was so eager to escape, he leapt up a chair and bounced off the ceiling. I've never seen a cat jump so high. Let's just say it was quite the icebreaker for our party.
Claire gorged on copious amounts of fruit, while we enjoyed a really yummy meal. The sausage and pastry dish was especially memorable (recipe, please!).
The conversation was lively and we stayed longer than we'd planned, we were having such a good time. I can't recall all the topics covered. Some of the things we discussed were the conference--and tangential topics related to talks given and people we met-- and careers and movies. Joel and I did our best to defend Moulin Rouge, which works to deconstruct the romantic musical genre and in so doing shows that stories about redemptive love resist deconstruction. (But many people can't get past the frenetic first half hour and don't get the humor.)
My first comment to Joel as we drove away was "I wish all these cool people didn't live so far away! I'd love to hang out with them more often!"
Thanks again for your gracious hospitality, Barb, and for giving up a vacation day, Dawn!
Among the highlights of our trip last month was meeting Dawn and Barb in Ohio. Barb's dog Angus and our Nicky became fast friends, being the same size and equally up for playing tag. Barb's cat Eleven, however, was far less enthusiastic than Nicky about any sort of friendship.
You see, Nicky mistook Barb's small, black feline for our small, black feline, Keats. Nicky was really missing his kitty brother who came to our home as a kitten and enjoys a good wrestling match every once in a while. Eleven, however, is far too dignified for such shenanigans. Nicky chased the poor kitty in circles and he was so eager to escape, he leapt up a chair and bounced off the ceiling. I've never seen a cat jump so high. Let's just say it was quite the icebreaker for our party.
Claire gorged on copious amounts of fruit, while we enjoyed a really yummy meal. The sausage and pastry dish was especially memorable (recipe, please!).
The conversation was lively and we stayed longer than we'd planned, we were having such a good time. I can't recall all the topics covered. Some of the things we discussed were the conference--and tangential topics related to talks given and people we met-- and careers and movies. Joel and I did our best to defend Moulin Rouge, which works to deconstruct the romantic musical genre and in so doing shows that stories about redemptive love resist deconstruction. (But many people can't get past the frenetic first half hour and don't get the humor.)
My first comment to Joel as we drove away was "I wish all these cool people didn't live so far away! I'd love to hang out with them more often!"
Thanks again for your gracious hospitality, Barb, and for giving up a vacation day, Dawn!
8.09.2003
8.07.2003
Out of the stone age
A nice couple from our church donated software for us to computerize our church library catalog. Well, we tried it out today and it's a DOS-based system from 1985! Yikes, I'd forgotten how cumbersome computing was in that era. Remember all those BASIC commands you needed to copy files, open them, save? Remember swapping around 3 or 4 different disks to open the program, enter data, then save it? Oy vey. I'm glad technology has come a long way since then.
I think we're going to purchase a program called ResourceMate. The price is within our budget and the demo seemed pretty easy to use. It even allows you to import cataloging information from the Library of Congress database. We can later add capabilities to make our catalog searchable from the Web so that church members can see if we carry a book or video. It would be cool to eventually make our check-out system computerized too. We could more easily track overdues for one.
You wouldn't believe how far overdue some materials are--I think some items checked out as long ago as 1990 have never been returned. Aside from enstating a fine system, I'm not sure how to really beef up our current system of mailing overdue notices to patrons. What's really appropriate in a church setting? Public shaming in the church bulletin?
A nice couple from our church donated software for us to computerize our church library catalog. Well, we tried it out today and it's a DOS-based system from 1985! Yikes, I'd forgotten how cumbersome computing was in that era. Remember all those BASIC commands you needed to copy files, open them, save? Remember swapping around 3 or 4 different disks to open the program, enter data, then save it? Oy vey. I'm glad technology has come a long way since then.
I think we're going to purchase a program called ResourceMate. The price is within our budget and the demo seemed pretty easy to use. It even allows you to import cataloging information from the Library of Congress database. We can later add capabilities to make our catalog searchable from the Web so that church members can see if we carry a book or video. It would be cool to eventually make our check-out system computerized too. We could more easily track overdues for one.
You wouldn't believe how far overdue some materials are--I think some items checked out as long ago as 1990 have never been returned. Aside from enstating a fine system, I'm not sure how to really beef up our current system of mailing overdue notices to patrons. What's really appropriate in a church setting? Public shaming in the church bulletin?
SAHM
What a misnomer, "stay-at-home-mom." I have hardly been home at all my first week in my new career as domestic engineer. Aside from loads of errand running and a few appointments, Claire and I have been out being social. We had our first "play date" with some friends from church today--fun for both of us. Tuesday I got to play tour guide for my sister, niece and niece's friend visiting from Hungary. They had a few hours to kill before putting the Hungarian teenager on a plane for Budapest. She loved City Hall and the other Victorian-era buildings in Center City, including the recently renovated Reading Terminal. She even showed mild interest in Philly's historic sites. It got me wondering if Europeans, with their Medieval churches and walls still standing, think our short history like the memoirs of a grade schooler.
What a misnomer, "stay-at-home-mom." I have hardly been home at all my first week in my new career as domestic engineer. Aside from loads of errand running and a few appointments, Claire and I have been out being social. We had our first "play date" with some friends from church today--fun for both of us. Tuesday I got to play tour guide for my sister, niece and niece's friend visiting from Hungary. They had a few hours to kill before putting the Hungarian teenager on a plane for Budapest. She loved City Hall and the other Victorian-era buildings in Center City, including the recently renovated Reading Terminal. She even showed mild interest in Philly's historic sites. It got me wondering if Europeans, with their Medieval churches and walls still standing, think our short history like the memoirs of a grade schooler.
8.03.2003
Back in the saddle
OK, I'm making an earnest attempt to blog again, though I have to admit I've been avoiding the computer because it feels too much like work. After telecommuting twice a week for nine months, I will probably have this gut-level feeling for a while.
Anyhoo... our 3,000 mile adventure on the road with pup and babe went surprisingly well. The big SUV we rented did make for a much more comfortable trip. (I still think the SUV acronym stands for "Satan's usual vehicle," a prime example of American conspicuous consumption. But that's another rant entirely.)
The biggest downside to our arrangement was meals, which on the road were primarily drive-though fast food eaten in the truck. I'm really regretting we didn't send Nicky to obedince school. Buy the right harness, take my glasses away and I think we could have pulled off a pretty convincing seeing-eye impression. But alas, our fur boy is too spazzy for such a role that would have made him acceptable in restaurants everywhere. And since we didn't want baked dog, the whole family was banished to eating in the vehicle.
Claire took a few steps back in her eating on the trip too. We're trying to wean her off pureed food from jars, but it's honestly the most convenient way to feed a kid on the road. Most fast food fare isn't appropriate for the under 1 set. Pre-toddlers generally aren't good at warning you they're going to need to eat soon. Suddenly, she shifts from happily playing to cranky and crying--"Feed me NOW!" And she's so messy feeding herself, it's just cleaner and faster to spoon out the Gerber purees.
I learned a lot about hospitality on the trip. Not that I could really articulate it well now without some concentrated reflection. That's on my mental "agenda" in the coming weeks, however, since I've been trying to pull together a second article for Meshereth magazine on the topic. I wrote the first one somewhat under the gun and see a lot of places I could have clarified or expanded a bit.
We really did get to see the famed "Southern hospitality" in practice. One of Joel's BH friends had arranged for us to stay with a former parishoner in Birmingham, Ala. This fellow then realized he'd be out of town and said his mother, who lives next door, would be happy to put us up.
Well, we didn't have her phone number, and because Joel had worked out so many details via e-mail with the son, we just showed up. As I'd vaguely feared, she didn't know who we were. But she welcomed us in anyway, happy to have company on a quiet weekend when most of the family (who all live nearby) were away. Once we explained our connection to various BH folk, she was simply delighted, asking after various people we'd met at the conference. (We now think she had simply forgotten discussing our visit with her son, rather than that he'd never told her.)
She had several bedrooms ready and available, bathroom set up with fresh towels even. She's accustomed to a steady stream of kids and grandkids visiting. It really made me think about what it means to be willing at all times to show hospitality...and showing kindness to strangers. Especially when we went out to dinner and she wouldn't let us pay.
More trip stories to come...
OK, I'm making an earnest attempt to blog again, though I have to admit I've been avoiding the computer because it feels too much like work. After telecommuting twice a week for nine months, I will probably have this gut-level feeling for a while.
Anyhoo... our 3,000 mile adventure on the road with pup and babe went surprisingly well. The big SUV we rented did make for a much more comfortable trip. (I still think the SUV acronym stands for "Satan's usual vehicle," a prime example of American conspicuous consumption. But that's another rant entirely.)
The biggest downside to our arrangement was meals, which on the road were primarily drive-though fast food eaten in the truck. I'm really regretting we didn't send Nicky to obedince school. Buy the right harness, take my glasses away and I think we could have pulled off a pretty convincing seeing-eye impression. But alas, our fur boy is too spazzy for such a role that would have made him acceptable in restaurants everywhere. And since we didn't want baked dog, the whole family was banished to eating in the vehicle.
Claire took a few steps back in her eating on the trip too. We're trying to wean her off pureed food from jars, but it's honestly the most convenient way to feed a kid on the road. Most fast food fare isn't appropriate for the under 1 set. Pre-toddlers generally aren't good at warning you they're going to need to eat soon. Suddenly, she shifts from happily playing to cranky and crying--"Feed me NOW!" And she's so messy feeding herself, it's just cleaner and faster to spoon out the Gerber purees.
I learned a lot about hospitality on the trip. Not that I could really articulate it well now without some concentrated reflection. That's on my mental "agenda" in the coming weeks, however, since I've been trying to pull together a second article for Meshereth magazine on the topic. I wrote the first one somewhat under the gun and see a lot of places I could have clarified or expanded a bit.
We really did get to see the famed "Southern hospitality" in practice. One of Joel's BH friends had arranged for us to stay with a former parishoner in Birmingham, Ala. This fellow then realized he'd be out of town and said his mother, who lives next door, would be happy to put us up.
Well, we didn't have her phone number, and because Joel had worked out so many details via e-mail with the son, we just showed up. As I'd vaguely feared, she didn't know who we were. But she welcomed us in anyway, happy to have company on a quiet weekend when most of the family (who all live nearby) were away. Once we explained our connection to various BH folk, she was simply delighted, asking after various people we'd met at the conference. (We now think she had simply forgotten discussing our visit with her son, rather than that he'd never told her.)
She had several bedrooms ready and available, bathroom set up with fresh towels even. She's accustomed to a steady stream of kids and grandkids visiting. It really made me think about what it means to be willing at all times to show hospitality...and showing kindness to strangers. Especially when we went out to dinner and she wouldn't let us pay.
More trip stories to come...
7.27.2003
The South is another country
Conversation between Joel and young boy in a motel parking lot in Kentucky.
Boy: Hi, mister
Joel: Hi
Boy: That shuer a purtty dawg. Do he bayte?
Joel: No, he won't bite, he's pretty friendly.
{nicky howls}
Boy: You shuer he don't bayte?
Joel: He just howls when he's excited.
Boy: Well, Ize skeert a dawgs.
Joel: I see. Well, I'm going to take him for his walk now.
Boy: Bye, mister.
Conversation between Joel and young boy in a motel parking lot in Kentucky.
Boy: Hi, mister
Joel: Hi
Boy: That shuer a purtty dawg. Do he bayte?
Joel: No, he won't bite, he's pretty friendly.
{nicky howls}
Boy: You shuer he don't bayte?
Joel: He just howls when he's excited.
Boy: Well, Ize skeert a dawgs.
Joel: I see. Well, I'm going to take him for his walk now.
Boy: Bye, mister.
7.15.2003
Kitty withdrawal
I miss my wicked kitty. Mr. Keats is staying with my brother for a few weeks while we travel.
I drove him to my brother's on Sunday evening and he cried the entire 45 minute trip. I'd packed him in a tall open-top box with a cozy towel and some food. Occassionally, he'd peep his head out of the box, see the cars on the highway behind us and cry even louder, as if to say "What is happening? Oh help!"
The trauma continued when we got to J's. He has two dogs that Keats used to know when he was a kitten. (J's former cat is Keats' mom. She got hit by a car this past spring.) J let Keats get his bearings, then let in the dogs one at a time. The small dog ignored Keats, the big one wanted to play. I hung around for an hour, and Keats was still under the dining room table, back arched, hissing at the big dog like mad.
My poor furry boy. I didn't get to hug him goodbye because he hissed at all of us for fear of the dog. I hope by tomorrow they will have established some sort of pecking order and will get along fine. I guess his casual attitude towards dogs really only applies to his "brother" Nicky.
I miss my wicked kitty. Mr. Keats is staying with my brother for a few weeks while we travel.
I drove him to my brother's on Sunday evening and he cried the entire 45 minute trip. I'd packed him in a tall open-top box with a cozy towel and some food. Occassionally, he'd peep his head out of the box, see the cars on the highway behind us and cry even louder, as if to say "What is happening? Oh help!"
The trauma continued when we got to J's. He has two dogs that Keats used to know when he was a kitten. (J's former cat is Keats' mom. She got hit by a car this past spring.) J let Keats get his bearings, then let in the dogs one at a time. The small dog ignored Keats, the big one wanted to play. I hung around for an hour, and Keats was still under the dining room table, back arched, hissing at the big dog like mad.
My poor furry boy. I didn't get to hug him goodbye because he hissed at all of us for fear of the dog. I hope by tomorrow they will have established some sort of pecking order and will get along fine. I guess his casual attitude towards dogs really only applies to his "brother" Nicky.
Yum
I just had another dish of the homemade peach ice cream we made last weekend with our new ice cream maker from my in-laws. I had tried to lighten the recipe a little by using 1% milk where it called for milk and whipping cream in place of heavy cream. It's still so amazingly rich (read: fatty) it leaves a film in the bowl. Joel quipped "mmm, this is good peachy butter...er, I mean ice cream."
I just had another dish of the homemade peach ice cream we made last weekend with our new ice cream maker from my in-laws. I had tried to lighten the recipe a little by using 1% milk where it called for milk and whipping cream in place of heavy cream. It's still so amazingly rich (read: fatty) it leaves a film in the bowl. Joel quipped "mmm, this is good peachy butter...er, I mean ice cream."
7.08.2003
Civic duty
Yesterday I spent a L-O-N-G day taking part in Philly's jury selection process. You sit in a big room with 300 to 400 other city residents and wait to be called to a group to go to a courtroom and wait some more. The lawyers whittle the larger group down to 12 and send the remaining "rejects" to be "recycled." If you're recycled, you go back to the big room and wait some more to be called to a courtroom and inspected by lawyers. When all the judges have as many jurors as they need, the remaining "recycled" folks get to go home. For this wonderful service of waiting for hours and hours, you earn a whopping $9 per day.
All the waiting is indeed dull, though I had reading material and some needlework to keep me occupied. The pool of potential jurors is an interesting cross section of the city's population--slightly more black than white, with a good portion of Latino and a handful of Asians; ages 18 to mid-80s; poor, middle class and rich. It was cool to see first hand the diversity of the city I call home.
The group I was called to was a group of 60. We all knew this must be an unusual case, because most civil trials needed pools of 30 potential jurors, and most criminal trials, 40. It took almost 45 minutes for the court staff to herd such a large group up to the courtroom.
We were seated in the section where observers usually sit. Three men sat at the defendant's table, and one at the prosecution table. The judge swore us in and explained a little about the case and the voir dire (sp?) process. The case, he said, involved murder--intentionally killing with malice of forethought. He pointed out who was sitting at each desk--the defendant and his attorneys and the assistant district attorney. Then the judge said that because Pennsylvania has a death penalty, it might be applied in this case if appropriate.
I got a cold sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn't want to kill the man sitting there. I don't even know him. It felt so creepy. Perhaps if I'd heard the details of the case I would have felt differently. But frankly, the American justice system is badly broken and ultimately unjust because usually only the poor and minorities end up sentenced to death. (The defendant was an African American man.) A truly just punishment has to be fairly applied--even to the rich and powerful.
But my ethical beliefs never came up, because the time commitment to sit on this jury was the bigger problem. The judge estimated the trial would run past my last day of work and into our trip south. I asked to be excused to wrap up at my job, my stomach in knots. Fortunately they excused me and I didn't have to forgo part of our trip, hear how someone's life was lost or send someone to his death.
Yesterday I spent a L-O-N-G day taking part in Philly's jury selection process. You sit in a big room with 300 to 400 other city residents and wait to be called to a group to go to a courtroom and wait some more. The lawyers whittle the larger group down to 12 and send the remaining "rejects" to be "recycled." If you're recycled, you go back to the big room and wait some more to be called to a courtroom and inspected by lawyers. When all the judges have as many jurors as they need, the remaining "recycled" folks get to go home. For this wonderful service of waiting for hours and hours, you earn a whopping $9 per day.
All the waiting is indeed dull, though I had reading material and some needlework to keep me occupied. The pool of potential jurors is an interesting cross section of the city's population--slightly more black than white, with a good portion of Latino and a handful of Asians; ages 18 to mid-80s; poor, middle class and rich. It was cool to see first hand the diversity of the city I call home.
The group I was called to was a group of 60. We all knew this must be an unusual case, because most civil trials needed pools of 30 potential jurors, and most criminal trials, 40. It took almost 45 minutes for the court staff to herd such a large group up to the courtroom.
We were seated in the section where observers usually sit. Three men sat at the defendant's table, and one at the prosecution table. The judge swore us in and explained a little about the case and the voir dire (sp?) process. The case, he said, involved murder--intentionally killing with malice of forethought. He pointed out who was sitting at each desk--the defendant and his attorneys and the assistant district attorney. Then the judge said that because Pennsylvania has a death penalty, it might be applied in this case if appropriate.
I got a cold sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn't want to kill the man sitting there. I don't even know him. It felt so creepy. Perhaps if I'd heard the details of the case I would have felt differently. But frankly, the American justice system is badly broken and ultimately unjust because usually only the poor and minorities end up sentenced to death. (The defendant was an African American man.) A truly just punishment has to be fairly applied--even to the rich and powerful.
But my ethical beliefs never came up, because the time commitment to sit on this jury was the bigger problem. The judge estimated the trial would run past my last day of work and into our trip south. I asked to be excused to wrap up at my job, my stomach in knots. Fortunately they excused me and I didn't have to forgo part of our trip, hear how someone's life was lost or send someone to his death.
7.04.2003
EEK
There are rodents among us.
Earlier this week, when Joel stayed up late finishing an article, Keats brought him a special treat at about 2 a.m. --a young mouse. Not completely dead either. Joel praised "the mighty hunter" and Keats played with his prey for a while. Now we don't know where the nearly dead creature is. Our only hope is that Keats ate it.
When we were cleaning up after dinner last night, Joel accidently scared one of the adults out of hiding. It scampered across the counter and dove under one of the burners of the gas stove. We think the nest is either behind the stove or in the basement and they use the opening around the gas line to come visit the kitchen.
Keats spent nearly the entire evening crouched in the kitchen, staring at the bottom of the stove, waiting for his prey. It's about time the rascal started earning his keep around here.
There are rodents among us.
Earlier this week, when Joel stayed up late finishing an article, Keats brought him a special treat at about 2 a.m. --a young mouse. Not completely dead either. Joel praised "the mighty hunter" and Keats played with his prey for a while. Now we don't know where the nearly dead creature is. Our only hope is that Keats ate it.
When we were cleaning up after dinner last night, Joel accidently scared one of the adults out of hiding. It scampered across the counter and dove under one of the burners of the gas stove. We think the nest is either behind the stove or in the basement and they use the opening around the gas line to come visit the kitchen.
Keats spent nearly the entire evening crouched in the kitchen, staring at the bottom of the stove, waiting for his prey. It's about time the rascal started earning his keep around here.
7.03.2003
Wild about Harry
I haven't been online much the past few weeks because we've spent almost all our spare time reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix aloud. Acutally, Joel reads and I do things like wash dishes, fold laundry and cross stitch. It's more efficient than each of us trying to read silently. And Joel does great voices. His Dolores Umbridge voice is really priceless.
I was really impressed by how well Rowling captures the attitudes, frustrations and obsessions of teenagers. Some of the reviewers were annoyed by the romantic subplots, but in my memory, romance looms pretty large in the mind of the average 15-year-old. Harry's little fits of temper also seem age appropriate. At 15, those first sweet tastes of adult-like competence are heady, and make it all the more aggravating to be reminded that you're still a kid.
Umbridge is perhaps the best villan Rowling has yet conceived. She strikes me as more evil than Voldemort in some ways because her motivation is far more real-world. Nothing like a petty bureaucrat scrambling for position to push far beyond the limits of law, ethics and decency.
Phoenix has some scenes that make you laugh so hard you can't breathe. Great action too. Though now that the kids are older and becoming more competent at spells, the dangerous scenes didn't seem quite as frightening. Frankly, book 4 seemed scarier. This one has a bit more heart.
I haven't been online much the past few weeks because we've spent almost all our spare time reading Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix aloud. Acutally, Joel reads and I do things like wash dishes, fold laundry and cross stitch. It's more efficient than each of us trying to read silently. And Joel does great voices. His Dolores Umbridge voice is really priceless.
I was really impressed by how well Rowling captures the attitudes, frustrations and obsessions of teenagers. Some of the reviewers were annoyed by the romantic subplots, but in my memory, romance looms pretty large in the mind of the average 15-year-old. Harry's little fits of temper also seem age appropriate. At 15, those first sweet tastes of adult-like competence are heady, and make it all the more aggravating to be reminded that you're still a kid.
Umbridge is perhaps the best villan Rowling has yet conceived. She strikes me as more evil than Voldemort in some ways because her motivation is far more real-world. Nothing like a petty bureaucrat scrambling for position to push far beyond the limits of law, ethics and decency.
Phoenix has some scenes that make you laugh so hard you can't breathe. Great action too. Though now that the kids are older and becoming more competent at spells, the dangerous scenes didn't seem quite as frightening. Frankly, book 4 seemed scarier. This one has a bit more heart.
bq withdrawal
I miss Berek. And I don't just mean his superb dishwashing abilities.
It's just sooooo quiet around here. Meals are pretty subdued now--no stream of chatter about PoMo theories and who said what about whom in blogland. It's weird not hearing a unique mix of opera, 70s pop, country and techno-dance tunes pouring down the stairwell from the third floor.
Claire keeps trying to have raspberry competitions with us. It's a skill bq tried to cultivate in her. :-) That and waving her arm like Eminem.
I mostly feel sad that bq only got to know me when I was totally stressed out and coming apart at the seams.
I miss Berek. And I don't just mean his superb dishwashing abilities.
It's just sooooo quiet around here. Meals are pretty subdued now--no stream of chatter about PoMo theories and who said what about whom in blogland. It's weird not hearing a unique mix of opera, 70s pop, country and techno-dance tunes pouring down the stairwell from the third floor.
Claire keeps trying to have raspberry competitions with us. It's a skill bq tried to cultivate in her. :-) That and waving her arm like Eminem.
I mostly feel sad that bq only got to know me when I was totally stressed out and coming apart at the seams.
6.26.2003
Mouths of babes
Watching Claire learn to talk is truly fascinating. Several times a day, she becomes quite chatty in her own language. It's like a combination of Swedish, bushman and Chinese. "Pthoga chithpa ee-juh hakimij pekethuch." (That's the best phonetic equivalent I can give.)
She has a few English words now that she uses accurately: da-da, ma-ma, bah (ball), dok (dog), keeh (kitty), ka (cat). When we were at the grocery store the other day, two little boys were playing with some playgound balls for sale at the store. Claire watched them, then said distinctly, "BAH." :-)
I do wonder, however, if we confuse her calling Keats "cat" and "kitty cat" alternately. And is it confusing that both Nicky and her big stuffed Clifford are "dog"? Can a baby really get that one is "real dog" and the other "pretend dog"?
It seems like understanding a category of things is pretty complex thinking. Especially dogs, which vary hugely in size, color and shape. And the dogs she sees are either real, toys, photos or illustrations.
I bet that if I showed her a picture of a horse, she would call that a "dok" too. The only thing she calls "keeh" or "ka" is Keats himself.
Watching Claire learn to talk is truly fascinating. Several times a day, she becomes quite chatty in her own language. It's like a combination of Swedish, bushman and Chinese. "Pthoga chithpa ee-juh hakimij pekethuch." (That's the best phonetic equivalent I can give.)
She has a few English words now that she uses accurately: da-da, ma-ma, bah (ball), dok (dog), keeh (kitty), ka (cat). When we were at the grocery store the other day, two little boys were playing with some playgound balls for sale at the store. Claire watched them, then said distinctly, "BAH." :-)
I do wonder, however, if we confuse her calling Keats "cat" and "kitty cat" alternately. And is it confusing that both Nicky and her big stuffed Clifford are "dog"? Can a baby really get that one is "real dog" and the other "pretend dog"?
It seems like understanding a category of things is pretty complex thinking. Especially dogs, which vary hugely in size, color and shape. And the dogs she sees are either real, toys, photos or illustrations.
I bet that if I showed her a picture of a horse, she would call that a "dok" too. The only thing she calls "keeh" or "ka" is Keats himself.
6.19.2003
Road trip
We're getting pretty excited about our trip to the BH conference in Florida later this summer. We're going to meet and stay with some great people in our travels. One night we're planning to motel it in eastern Alabama, and Joel just booked the room. When he asked about their pet policy, they said, "shue-ur, we tayke pay-ets." Gosh I love hearing "pets" as a two syllable word. :-) I have to remind Joel that when a server asks if you want a Coke, the correct answer is "Yes, I'll have a root beer."
Any other key idioms we Yankees should know about? Rick? Betsy? Sarah?
We're getting pretty excited about our trip to the BH conference in Florida later this summer. We're going to meet and stay with some great people in our travels. One night we're planning to motel it in eastern Alabama, and Joel just booked the room. When he asked about their pet policy, they said, "shue-ur, we tayke pay-ets." Gosh I love hearing "pets" as a two syllable word. :-) I have to remind Joel that when a server asks if you want a Coke, the correct answer is "Yes, I'll have a root beer."
Any other key idioms we Yankees should know about? Rick? Betsy? Sarah?
6.16.2003
New path
Well, I've done it. I resigned from my job today. My last day will be July 15. I figured it would be a good idea to give a month's notice instead of the required three weeks since there's no other employer chomping at the bit for me to get started.
I feel slightly light headed. Giving up the salary makes me a bit nervous, but I'm so excited about the prospect of being with Claire all day.
Well, I've done it. I resigned from my job today. My last day will be July 15. I figured it would be a good idea to give a month's notice instead of the required three weeks since there's no other employer chomping at the bit for me to get started.
I feel slightly light headed. Giving up the salary makes me a bit nervous, but I'm so excited about the prospect of being with Claire all day.
6.10.2003
Vegan cookies
I've never tried to cook for someone with dairy and gluten allergies like Annie does (you're heroic!), but I have made Thanksgiving dinner for family members who are vegan. The real trick was coming up with desserts that don't contain eggs or milk. Fruit pies work, of course. Then I remembered this eggless cookie recipe that's a great standby when you realize there are no eggs in the house. It also happens to contain no animal products. (Warning: these are not low fat! (-:)
Swedish Coconut Cookies
2 C margerine
2 C sugar
3 1/4 C flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
2 C shredded coconut
2 tsp vanilla
Preheat oven to 350 F. Cream margerine and sugar. Add flour, baking powder and baking soda. Stir in coconut and vanilla. Drop by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 10 to 12 minutes. Makes 7 to 8 dozen.
I've never tried to cook for someone with dairy and gluten allergies like Annie does (you're heroic!), but I have made Thanksgiving dinner for family members who are vegan. The real trick was coming up with desserts that don't contain eggs or milk. Fruit pies work, of course. Then I remembered this eggless cookie recipe that's a great standby when you realize there are no eggs in the house. It also happens to contain no animal products. (Warning: these are not low fat! (-:)
Swedish Coconut Cookies
2 C margerine
2 C sugar
3 1/4 C flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
2 C shredded coconut
2 tsp vanilla
Preheat oven to 350 F. Cream margerine and sugar. Add flour, baking powder and baking soda. Stir in coconut and vanilla. Drop by spoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 10 to 12 minutes. Makes 7 to 8 dozen.
6.07.2003
Rainy day treat
I got a craving for an old childhood favorite today, so I whipped up a batch of cookies we used to call "fudgies." My brother and I first had them at our school cafeteria in a small, rural public school in northern Pennsylvania (K-6 and about 160 students). Mom was able to get the recipe from one of the cafeteria ladies.
They take about 15 minutes to make, and no baking required. It's a good recipe for kids to try because it's easy to make and has few ingredients. The cookies look a little like something you'd find in a diaper, but they're a very tasty chocolate/peanut butter treat. The appearance has never kept people from devouring them when I've taken them to parties and church events.
Fudgies
2 C sugar
1/2 C margerine
1/2 C milk
1/3 C unsweetened cocoa powder
3 C rolled oats
1/2 C peanut butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Bring sugar, margerine, milk and cocoa to boil in a large saucepan and boil 1 minute. Remove from heat. Quickly stir in oats, peanut butter and vanilla until oats are covered with cocoa mixture. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto waxed paper. Let stand until set. Makes about 4 dozen.
I got a craving for an old childhood favorite today, so I whipped up a batch of cookies we used to call "fudgies." My brother and I first had them at our school cafeteria in a small, rural public school in northern Pennsylvania (K-6 and about 160 students). Mom was able to get the recipe from one of the cafeteria ladies.
They take about 15 minutes to make, and no baking required. It's a good recipe for kids to try because it's easy to make and has few ingredients. The cookies look a little like something you'd find in a diaper, but they're a very tasty chocolate/peanut butter treat. The appearance has never kept people from devouring them when I've taken them to parties and church events.
Fudgies
2 C sugar
1/2 C margerine
1/2 C milk
1/3 C unsweetened cocoa powder
3 C rolled oats
1/2 C peanut butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Bring sugar, margerine, milk and cocoa to boil in a large saucepan and boil 1 minute. Remove from heat. Quickly stir in oats, peanut butter and vanilla until oats are covered with cocoa mixture. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto waxed paper. Let stand until set. Makes about 4 dozen.
Taste in the disco era
Well, I ruffled a few feathers when I apologized for being a Carpenters fan as a child. Keep in mind that I have older siblings who were in their teens and 20s in this era. I distinctly recall their attitude toward 70s pop is that is was decidedly uncool. Cool people listened to stuff like ELO and Led Zeppelin. Not folksy songs with happy lyrics. Folk was cool only if it was anti-establishment.
So I guess it would be more accurate for me to describe my childhood taste as "uncool" rather than simply "bad." As Sarah pointed out, Karen Carpenter's vocal quality is superior to a majority of pop stars.
If we really want to talk about bad taste in music, well, there's my parents. They were teens during the Swing era and got to jump, jive and wail to all this awesome 40s dance music, only to turn into Muzak afficianados in later adulthood. If you think "The Girl from Ipanema" is bad, you should hear "Thriller" played by a 101 string orchestra. Yikes. (I wish I was kidding. The local "easy listening" station truly did play such a rendition when I was in high school.)
Well, I ruffled a few feathers when I apologized for being a Carpenters fan as a child. Keep in mind that I have older siblings who were in their teens and 20s in this era. I distinctly recall their attitude toward 70s pop is that is was decidedly uncool. Cool people listened to stuff like ELO and Led Zeppelin. Not folksy songs with happy lyrics. Folk was cool only if it was anti-establishment.
So I guess it would be more accurate for me to describe my childhood taste as "uncool" rather than simply "bad." As Sarah pointed out, Karen Carpenter's vocal quality is superior to a majority of pop stars.
If we really want to talk about bad taste in music, well, there's my parents. They were teens during the Swing era and got to jump, jive and wail to all this awesome 40s dance music, only to turn into Muzak afficianados in later adulthood. If you think "The Girl from Ipanema" is bad, you should hear "Thriller" played by a 101 string orchestra. Yikes. (I wish I was kidding. The local "easy listening" station truly did play such a rendition when I was in high school.)
6.03.2003
Inci-dental
Yesterday I got my first filling in seven years. Not a bad record considering the number of fillings I've collected so far (like the five I got seven years ago, plus a root canal).
I'd forgotten how surreal it feels to have half your face numb. It amazed me that I could talk to the receptionist after my appointment. And that people didn't point and stare as I walked down the street. I was half afraid to look at my reflection, convinced my head had swollen to twice its normal size on one side.
For an even more surreal dental experience, nothing beats nitrous oxide. Under this disembodying drug, you don't really care that the dentist has his knee on your chest trying to yank out a long-rooted molar. I still think of floating in a drug-induced haze whenever I hear the Carpenters, the cassette I usually chose to listen to through seven professional extractions prior to getting braces at age 11. (Yes, I had atrocious taste in music as a child. I blame my bad taste on the ugly clothes I was forced to wear in the 70s.)
Yesterday I got my first filling in seven years. Not a bad record considering the number of fillings I've collected so far (like the five I got seven years ago, plus a root canal).
I'd forgotten how surreal it feels to have half your face numb. It amazed me that I could talk to the receptionist after my appointment. And that people didn't point and stare as I walked down the street. I was half afraid to look at my reflection, convinced my head had swollen to twice its normal size on one side.
For an even more surreal dental experience, nothing beats nitrous oxide. Under this disembodying drug, you don't really care that the dentist has his knee on your chest trying to yank out a long-rooted molar. I still think of floating in a drug-induced haze whenever I hear the Carpenters, the cassette I usually chose to listen to through seven professional extractions prior to getting braces at age 11. (Yes, I had atrocious taste in music as a child. I blame my bad taste on the ugly clothes I was forced to wear in the 70s.)
5.31.2003
Frail flower
Last year I got just one bloom on my peony because of the dry winter. The second day it was in bloom, a rain storm soaked open, petaly, lone flower. It collapsed under the weight of all the water it caught, then all the petals fell off. The plant's dark, glossy leaves are lovely by themselves, but I was sorely disappointed to lose the flamboyant flower.
Sadly, these enormous, fragrant blooms (they're about 5" in diameter) only seem to last a week at the most, even in the best conditions. This year I was able to rescue my peonies to enjoy indoors before they were decimated by rain. (They opened this morning, and a thunderstorm is in the forecast for tonight.) Here are four of the seven blossoms for the year.
Any green thumbs out there, is it possible to get a second set of blooms on a peony planted in the Mid-Atlantic region, or is this plant "done" for the season?
Last year I got just one bloom on my peony because of the dry winter. The second day it was in bloom, a rain storm soaked open, petaly, lone flower. It collapsed under the weight of all the water it caught, then all the petals fell off. The plant's dark, glossy leaves are lovely by themselves, but I was sorely disappointed to lose the flamboyant flower.
Sadly, these enormous, fragrant blooms (they're about 5" in diameter) only seem to last a week at the most, even in the best conditions. This year I was able to rescue my peonies to enjoy indoors before they were decimated by rain. (They opened this morning, and a thunderstorm is in the forecast for tonight.) Here are four of the seven blossoms for the year.
Any green thumbs out there, is it possible to get a second set of blooms on a peony planted in the Mid-Atlantic region, or is this plant "done" for the season?
5.29.2003
New heights
Joel beat me to the punch blogging about Claire's latest gross motor skill feat--stair climbing. I don't think it's time to panic yet. First, she only climbed one step. Second, when I tried to get her to repeat the action, she lost interest and crawled away.
I'm just glad that our staircase has so many bends, the most stairs she could tumble down at a time is about eight.
Joel beat me to the punch blogging about Claire's latest gross motor skill feat--stair climbing. I don't think it's time to panic yet. First, she only climbed one step. Second, when I tried to get her to repeat the action, she lost interest and crawled away.
I'm just glad that our staircase has so many bends, the most stairs she could tumble down at a time is about eight.
Spam, spam, eggs and spam
I've noticed a disturbing trend. I seem to get a lot of e-mail letters from strangers claiming to be related to some important person in Africa or Asia whose assets are tied up because of a military coup or some other disaster. Only with my help can they save the family fortune, they claim. By helping them move millions of dollars out of their home country to a U.S. bank, they promise me a large cut of the money. All I have to do is provide a bank account number and several other pieces of personal information, or simply up-front cash.
Of course, armed with this information, these strangers can easily siphon thousands from bank accounts. Or they simply take the up-front money and run. From what I've heard, this is an extremely old scam. Entire cottage industries have sprung up around swindling gullible Americans using this type of story. The Internet just makes it cheaper to reach more potential victims.
I'm still trying to figure out how so much of this variety of spam gets past the office firewall to end up in my business e-mail account. I probably get four a week and delete them all.
I've noticed a disturbing trend. I seem to get a lot of e-mail letters from strangers claiming to be related to some important person in Africa or Asia whose assets are tied up because of a military coup or some other disaster. Only with my help can they save the family fortune, they claim. By helping them move millions of dollars out of their home country to a U.S. bank, they promise me a large cut of the money. All I have to do is provide a bank account number and several other pieces of personal information, or simply up-front cash.
Of course, armed with this information, these strangers can easily siphon thousands from bank accounts. Or they simply take the up-front money and run. From what I've heard, this is an extremely old scam. Entire cottage industries have sprung up around swindling gullible Americans using this type of story. The Internet just makes it cheaper to reach more potential victims.
I'm still trying to figure out how so much of this variety of spam gets past the office firewall to end up in my business e-mail account. I probably get four a week and delete them all.
5.26.2003
Taken to task
Multitasking is not for amateurs. My big misadventure for the week happened after a tiring grocery shopping trip, slogging around the store with a cold and sore throat. I'd nearly finished unpacking the groceries when one of my girlfriends called. I chatted away while putting tea on to boil, packing away food items and tidying up.
After making the tea, I noticed the pan under the set of burners needed to be cleaned. So I pulled away the metal grilles from our gas stove with my bare hands. My girlfriend heard a shriek and a crash. Yup, I grabbed one of the grilles over the burner where I'd just boiled water. Good friend to have on the end of the line, this ICU nurse. She talked me through how to care for my burns while I sobbed through the intense pain.
I now have several second-degree burns on my right hand, thankfully none on my finger tips. I have some very interesting blisters, though. The first night was the worst. I slept clutching a re-freezable chill pack for the cooler.
Talking on the phone is dangerous. So just send me e-mail from now on, thanks.
Multitasking is not for amateurs. My big misadventure for the week happened after a tiring grocery shopping trip, slogging around the store with a cold and sore throat. I'd nearly finished unpacking the groceries when one of my girlfriends called. I chatted away while putting tea on to boil, packing away food items and tidying up.
After making the tea, I noticed the pan under the set of burners needed to be cleaned. So I pulled away the metal grilles from our gas stove with my bare hands. My girlfriend heard a shriek and a crash. Yup, I grabbed one of the grilles over the burner where I'd just boiled water. Good friend to have on the end of the line, this ICU nurse. She talked me through how to care for my burns while I sobbed through the intense pain.
I now have several second-degree burns on my right hand, thankfully none on my finger tips. I have some very interesting blisters, though. The first night was the worst. I slept clutching a re-freezable chill pack for the cooler.
Talking on the phone is dangerous. So just send me e-mail from now on, thanks.
5.18.2003
The One
The Matrix: Reloaded. Whoa. Just as intense as I'd expected. Also a lot more confusing. I'm not sure what to make of some of the new plot points, and the multiple new enemies to deal with.
I also wonder how much Cadillac paid to get their cars placed in the freeway chase scene. I mean come on, this is the brand one usually associates with seniors in golf pants driving under the speed limit, not svelte women in leather weaving through traffic at furious speeds dodging bullets.
Anyone with a knowledge of physics, is it really possible when fighting on top of a moving vehicle to land in the same spot after jumping in the air? It seems like the wind drag would put you further back. Yeah, yeah, it's the fake-o land of the Matrix, anything is supposedly possible. But this film requires you to suspend your disbelief an awful lot. The line between, "wow, cool" and "yeah, right" was getting a little thin for me at times.
Definitely worth seeing on the big screen, as long as you have time afterwards to unwind from this adrenaline rush.
The Matrix: Reloaded. Whoa. Just as intense as I'd expected. Also a lot more confusing. I'm not sure what to make of some of the new plot points, and the multiple new enemies to deal with.
I also wonder how much Cadillac paid to get their cars placed in the freeway chase scene. I mean come on, this is the brand one usually associates with seniors in golf pants driving under the speed limit, not svelte women in leather weaving through traffic at furious speeds dodging bullets.
Anyone with a knowledge of physics, is it really possible when fighting on top of a moving vehicle to land in the same spot after jumping in the air? It seems like the wind drag would put you further back. Yeah, yeah, it's the fake-o land of the Matrix, anything is supposedly possible. But this film requires you to suspend your disbelief an awful lot. The line between, "wow, cool" and "yeah, right" was getting a little thin for me at times.
Definitely worth seeing on the big screen, as long as you have time afterwards to unwind from this adrenaline rush.
5.17.2003
La Luna
I saw a lunar eclipse for the first time on Thursday after babysitting for hierogrammate's kids. I can't believe it's taken 34 years to see this fairly common astronomical event. (BTW it was way cool.)
I really need to get out more.
I saw a lunar eclipse for the first time on Thursday after babysitting for hierogrammate's kids. I can't believe it's taken 34 years to see this fairly common astronomical event. (BTW it was way cool.)
I really need to get out more.
5.13.2003
Above and below stairs
Anyone keeping up with the new PBS show "Manor House"? It's a "living history" sort of show styled after "1900 House" and "Frontier House," in which contemporary people step back in time and live for an extended time in another era.
In "Manor House," one family lives "above stairs" in wealth and ease as Edwardians, while a group of volunteers serve them. It's kind of cool that a several of the volunteer servants have relatives who were "in service" and wanted to get an idea of what Granny's or Great Aunt Betty's life was really like.
By episode four, the servants are getting pretty exhausted and the younger ones are really chafing under the conventions of servitude. But interestingly, it's the wealthy unmarried aunt above stairs who becomes so depressed she needs to leave for a while. It was surprising to learn that in some ways, it was probably more fulfilling to be a parlormaid than a rich spinster during this era in terms of feeling like you contribute and matter.
Anyone keeping up with the new PBS show "Manor House"? It's a "living history" sort of show styled after "1900 House" and "Frontier House," in which contemporary people step back in time and live for an extended time in another era.
In "Manor House," one family lives "above stairs" in wealth and ease as Edwardians, while a group of volunteers serve them. It's kind of cool that a several of the volunteer servants have relatives who were "in service" and wanted to get an idea of what Granny's or Great Aunt Betty's life was really like.
By episode four, the servants are getting pretty exhausted and the younger ones are really chafing under the conventions of servitude. But interestingly, it's the wealthy unmarried aunt above stairs who becomes so depressed she needs to leave for a while. It was surprising to learn that in some ways, it was probably more fulfilling to be a parlormaid than a rich spinster during this era in terms of feeling like you contribute and matter.
5.11.2003
Sabbath reflection
O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made.
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my savior God, to thee;
How great thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, how great thou art!
When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:
And when I think that God, his Son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin:
When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, "My God, how great thou art!"
Back in college when I sang with a music ministry group, I remember visiting a church with an active deaf ministry. This was one of the hymns of the morning. Seeing a whole group of people signing the lyrics made me really hear the words of this piece that always seemed a little flowery. "Then sings my soul..." Even when one can't praise God with one's voice, He hears the song of one's soul. In spite of my "lisping, stammering tongue," every failure and weak muteness, I can yet praise him.
O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds thy hands have made.
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my savior God, to thee;
How great thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my savior God, to thee:
How great thou art, how great thou art!
When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:
And when I think that God, his Son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin:
When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, "My God, how great thou art!"
Back in college when I sang with a music ministry group, I remember visiting a church with an active deaf ministry. This was one of the hymns of the morning. Seeing a whole group of people signing the lyrics made me really hear the words of this piece that always seemed a little flowery. "Then sings my soul..." Even when one can't praise God with one's voice, He hears the song of one's soul. In spite of my "lisping, stammering tongue," every failure and weak muteness, I can yet praise him.
5.10.2003
We are amused
When life gets stressful, there's nothing like a little Monty Python. Watching some old episodes last night, I saw another favorite sketch:
(Opening shot: Sports announcer outside metal starting stalls used for horse racing.)
Announcer: Well they're under starter's orders for this very valuable Queen Victoria Handicap. And they're off...
(The starting stall doors fly open; out come eight identically dressed Queen Victorias who go bustling off up the field.)
Announcer: And Queen Victoria got a clean jump off, followed by Queen Victoria, Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria. It's Queen Victoria from Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria. It's Queen Victoria making the early running on the inside. And at the back Queen Victoria already a couple of lengths behind the leaders. Queen Victoria has now moved up to challenge Queen Victoria with Queen Victoria losing ground. Queen Victoria tucked in neatly on the stand side with a clear view. Queen Victoria still the back marker as they approach the halfway mark, but making ground now, suddenly past Queen Victoria with Queen Victoria, Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria still well placed as they approach the first fence.
(A low angle shot as the Queen Victorias appear over the fence and thunder towards the camera.)
Announcer: And at the first fence it's Queen Victoria just ahead of Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria falling away in third place. And Queen Victoria in the lead....
When life gets stressful, there's nothing like a little Monty Python. Watching some old episodes last night, I saw another favorite sketch:
(Opening shot: Sports announcer outside metal starting stalls used for horse racing.)
Announcer: Well they're under starter's orders for this very valuable Queen Victoria Handicap. And they're off...
(The starting stall doors fly open; out come eight identically dressed Queen Victorias who go bustling off up the field.)
Announcer: And Queen Victoria got a clean jump off, followed by Queen Victoria, Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria. It's Queen Victoria from Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria. It's Queen Victoria making the early running on the inside. And at the back Queen Victoria already a couple of lengths behind the leaders. Queen Victoria has now moved up to challenge Queen Victoria with Queen Victoria losing ground. Queen Victoria tucked in neatly on the stand side with a clear view. Queen Victoria still the back marker as they approach the halfway mark, but making ground now, suddenly past Queen Victoria with Queen Victoria, Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria still well placed as they approach the first fence.
(A low angle shot as the Queen Victorias appear over the fence and thunder towards the camera.)
Announcer: And at the first fence it's Queen Victoria just ahead of Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria falling away in third place. And Queen Victoria in the lead....
5.07.2003
5.06.2003
Lone Xylophone redux
I'd wanted to repost one of my earliest blogs that explains where I got the name. Now that the archives have been recovered, here it is...
Lone xylophone, I realize, is a kind of odd name for a blog, and merits explanation...
My sophomore through senior years of high school, I played mallet percussion, an experience that put me in an even more freakish subset of band freaks: girl percussionists. I didn't play something delicate and feminine like a flute or clarinet, but a huge instrument that had to be strapped to my body. I carried sticks and hit things.
Being a girl percussionist is not for wussies. I got to wear a 40-pound marching xylophone through blazing heat, rain, and snow on football fields and several-mile parades in hilly towns. (I only fainted once, during a two mile parade in 98 degree heat in a wool uniform. Fortunately, a parent caught my instrument before I was impaled on the harness.)
My band director decided that the percussion harnesses were ugly, so we had to wear them under our uniforms. It's amazing I ever got a date, wandering around football games with lumpy shoulders, bolts bulging at unnatural places on my chest and a steel bar sticking out by my groin. Of course, with the instrument attached I could do some serious damage if I turned around too fast--and did knock the wind out of a trombonist...
I'll save some of my crazy band days stories for future posts. Suffice it to say, my experiences shaped my imagination in unique ways, and I can hear beauty in hitting things, see dignity in the lumpy but strong.
I'd wanted to repost one of my earliest blogs that explains where I got the name. Now that the archives have been recovered, here it is...
Lone xylophone, I realize, is a kind of odd name for a blog, and merits explanation...
My sophomore through senior years of high school, I played mallet percussion, an experience that put me in an even more freakish subset of band freaks: girl percussionists. I didn't play something delicate and feminine like a flute or clarinet, but a huge instrument that had to be strapped to my body. I carried sticks and hit things.
Being a girl percussionist is not for wussies. I got to wear a 40-pound marching xylophone through blazing heat, rain, and snow on football fields and several-mile parades in hilly towns. (I only fainted once, during a two mile parade in 98 degree heat in a wool uniform. Fortunately, a parent caught my instrument before I was impaled on the harness.)
My band director decided that the percussion harnesses were ugly, so we had to wear them under our uniforms. It's amazing I ever got a date, wandering around football games with lumpy shoulders, bolts bulging at unnatural places on my chest and a steel bar sticking out by my groin. Of course, with the instrument attached I could do some serious damage if I turned around too fast--and did knock the wind out of a trombonist...
I'll save some of my crazy band days stories for future posts. Suffice it to say, my experiences shaped my imagination in unique ways, and I can hear beauty in hitting things, see dignity in the lumpy but strong.
4.29.2003
Richie
The latest issue of re:generation (not online yet, sorry!) has some really powerful stuff in it. (Maybe later in the week I'll pull together my comments on Read Schuchardt's article on Disney.)
Becky Baer Porteous' article "From Race to Taste: Wealth and Status in the Postmodern World," felt a bit like a kick in the teeth in the best possible way (if that makes any sense). She asserts that "having the wealth to consume and display certain sorts of 'taste,' even a taste for packaged ethnic diversity, makes anyone acceptable....In a postmodern world, it's what's over the skin that counts--the surface and the image it sustains." Okay, sounds like a typical anti-materialism story condemning the upper crust, right?
Well, Porteous goes on to describe feeling depressed while living in Zimbabwe, and realizing it came from being separated from home, from being accustomed to "being a wealthy person in a wealth contry, constantly stimulated by color and taste and aroma and touch--by things I coveted and wanted to consume." She comes to the realization that much of her former happiness came from being a white American and that life should be about sharing in Christ's sufferings in the world.
Even if my wardrobe isn't terribly stylish and we drive an older, dented up car, equating hapiness with stuff is still a big problem for me. I'm not at all eager to forgo my plush, comfortable bed and full cupboards to suffer for Christ.
The latest issue of re:generation (not online yet, sorry!) has some really powerful stuff in it. (Maybe later in the week I'll pull together my comments on Read Schuchardt's article on Disney.)
Becky Baer Porteous' article "From Race to Taste: Wealth and Status in the Postmodern World," felt a bit like a kick in the teeth in the best possible way (if that makes any sense). She asserts that "having the wealth to consume and display certain sorts of 'taste,' even a taste for packaged ethnic diversity, makes anyone acceptable....In a postmodern world, it's what's over the skin that counts--the surface and the image it sustains." Okay, sounds like a typical anti-materialism story condemning the upper crust, right?
Well, Porteous goes on to describe feeling depressed while living in Zimbabwe, and realizing it came from being separated from home, from being accustomed to "being a wealthy person in a wealth contry, constantly stimulated by color and taste and aroma and touch--by things I coveted and wanted to consume." She comes to the realization that much of her former happiness came from being a white American and that life should be about sharing in Christ's sufferings in the world.
Even if my wardrobe isn't terribly stylish and we drive an older, dented up car, equating hapiness with stuff is still a big problem for me. I'm not at all eager to forgo my plush, comfortable bed and full cupboards to suffer for Christ.
4.24.2003
4.23.2003
Leaps
Growing up in a Christian family, it's easy to assume that the next generation will simply fall in line behind us. Alas, they have their own struggles. My oldest brother's girls have done both the MK and PK thing. His youngest has had her ups and downs, and my brother and sister-in-law have really struggled to woo her back to Lord when she's drifted away.
Well, my niece is about to embark on a spiritual journey. She's going to India for a few months to serve as a nanny for a missionary couple while their children have school holidays. We got the nicest note from her asking for our prayers as she takes this leap of faith, leaving her comfort zone (among many non-Christian friends at university) to connect with God again. She leaves next Tuesday.
We pray that like the prodigal, she sees her heavenly Father running down the road to meet her.
Growing up in a Christian family, it's easy to assume that the next generation will simply fall in line behind us. Alas, they have their own struggles. My oldest brother's girls have done both the MK and PK thing. His youngest has had her ups and downs, and my brother and sister-in-law have really struggled to woo her back to Lord when she's drifted away.
Well, my niece is about to embark on a spiritual journey. She's going to India for a few months to serve as a nanny for a missionary couple while their children have school holidays. We got the nicest note from her asking for our prayers as she takes this leap of faith, leaving her comfort zone (among many non-Christian friends at university) to connect with God again. She leaves next Tuesday.
We pray that like the prodigal, she sees her heavenly Father running down the road to meet her.
4.19.2003
Lacrimosa
As part of our Good Friday observence, we attended a concert put on by the Ama Deus ensemble at the big Catholic cathedral here in Philly. They performed a Gregorian chant setting of the "Stabat Mater," followed by a Verdi setting of the same text. The group also performed a Verdi setting of the "Ave Maria" and Mozart's setting of the "Ave Verum Corpus." Finally, they closed with Mozart's "Requiem."
Sadly, the only piece that was truly outstanding was the chant. And it had nothing to do with the group's virutosity. They set up the orchestra and choir right beneath the dome in the cathedral--the absolutely worst spot acoustically for most classical music. With all of that open space, the sound waves echo and overlap excessively. All the snap of Mozart becomes a muddy mess.
The last time I heard the same group perform Mozart's "Requiem" in a different venue, it I couldn't keep from weeping because of how achingly, powerfully beautiful the music was. This time I wanted to cry for the performers who I knew were doing an equally amazing job that this cavernous cathedral was warping, disorting.
So much for grandiose scenes. We would have had a better auditory fortaste of heaven had the performers been crammed into the choir loft at the back of the church.
As part of our Good Friday observence, we attended a concert put on by the Ama Deus ensemble at the big Catholic cathedral here in Philly. They performed a Gregorian chant setting of the "Stabat Mater," followed by a Verdi setting of the same text. The group also performed a Verdi setting of the "Ave Maria" and Mozart's setting of the "Ave Verum Corpus." Finally, they closed with Mozart's "Requiem."
Sadly, the only piece that was truly outstanding was the chant. And it had nothing to do with the group's virutosity. They set up the orchestra and choir right beneath the dome in the cathedral--the absolutely worst spot acoustically for most classical music. With all of that open space, the sound waves echo and overlap excessively. All the snap of Mozart becomes a muddy mess.
The last time I heard the same group perform Mozart's "Requiem" in a different venue, it I couldn't keep from weeping because of how achingly, powerfully beautiful the music was. This time I wanted to cry for the performers who I knew were doing an equally amazing job that this cavernous cathedral was warping, disorting.
So much for grandiose scenes. We would have had a better auditory fortaste of heaven had the performers been crammed into the choir loft at the back of the church.
4.16.2003
No soliciting
I walk past several clumps of Jehovah's Witnesses at the train station the three days a week I commute to the city. Usually these overdressed folks coyly wave their fans of literature and smile. Others -- mostly the older men -- stand around in their tweed and fedoras holding Watchtower magazines like offering plates ready to receive a contribution.
None have approached me yet, but if one did, I'd be heartily tempted to say, "Oh, the Arian heresy, how quaint."
I walk past several clumps of Jehovah's Witnesses at the train station the three days a week I commute to the city. Usually these overdressed folks coyly wave their fans of literature and smile. Others -- mostly the older men -- stand around in their tweed and fedoras holding Watchtower magazines like offering plates ready to receive a contribution.
None have approached me yet, but if one did, I'd be heartily tempted to say, "Oh, the Arian heresy, how quaint."
4.13.2003
How low can you go
The network execs at Fox must be smoking crack. How else can you explain a show like "The Pitts"? Its central comic concept about a family of accident-prone losers is about as funny as a train wreck. I can't say I've managed to sit through an episode yet. I think I'd rather watch a whole season of "Charles in Charge" reruns than one episode of "The Pitts." The ads for the show are so painful the thirty second exposure makes me want to run from the room and call the nearest psychiatric center to schedule electric shock treatment.
I can't wait to get a new book on tape from the library tomorrow.
The network execs at Fox must be smoking crack. How else can you explain a show like "The Pitts"? Its central comic concept about a family of accident-prone losers is about as funny as a train wreck. I can't say I've managed to sit through an episode yet. I think I'd rather watch a whole season of "Charles in Charge" reruns than one episode of "The Pitts." The ads for the show are so painful the thirty second exposure makes me want to run from the room and call the nearest psychiatric center to schedule electric shock treatment.
I can't wait to get a new book on tape from the library tomorrow.
4.11.2003
In a mirror darkly
I really hate the full length mirror in the bathroom at work. It makes me look like a Weeble. (Like I didn't have enough body image problems to begin with.) I think the surface might be slightly curved, because my feet look so small and my middle looks so wide compared to my full-length mirror at home. Of course, my mirror at home may merely flatter me into thinking I'm more evenly proportioned.
The other thing we so easily forget about mirrors is that they reflect a backwards image. I remember watching a 20/20 spot about a company that sells mirrors that reflect true. Most people are really freaked out the first time they see themselves unflipped.
We're really accustomed to seeing a distorted, backwards image of ourselves. Even photos lie--they can make you appear 10 pounds heavier than you really are.
We now see God as "but a poor reflection as in a mirror" (I Cor. 13:12 NIV). But we also see ourselves through a glass darkly. Someday we will see Him face-to-face and know Him fully, in the full way He knows us. What a strange and awesome day that will be, when the distortions are removed.
Perhaps we'll also get a glimpse of how our savior and bridegroom sees us as well. How extraordinary it would be to know how I truly look to the only true eyes in the cosmos.
I really hate the full length mirror in the bathroom at work. It makes me look like a Weeble. (Like I didn't have enough body image problems to begin with.) I think the surface might be slightly curved, because my feet look so small and my middle looks so wide compared to my full-length mirror at home. Of course, my mirror at home may merely flatter me into thinking I'm more evenly proportioned.
The other thing we so easily forget about mirrors is that they reflect a backwards image. I remember watching a 20/20 spot about a company that sells mirrors that reflect true. Most people are really freaked out the first time they see themselves unflipped.
We're really accustomed to seeing a distorted, backwards image of ourselves. Even photos lie--they can make you appear 10 pounds heavier than you really are.
We now see God as "but a poor reflection as in a mirror" (I Cor. 13:12 NIV). But we also see ourselves through a glass darkly. Someday we will see Him face-to-face and know Him fully, in the full way He knows us. What a strange and awesome day that will be, when the distortions are removed.
Perhaps we'll also get a glimpse of how our savior and bridegroom sees us as well. How extraordinary it would be to know how I truly look to the only true eyes in the cosmos.
4.09.2003
Finding joy with gel pens
I had a big doodle fest last night with some birthday cards and a baby shower card. It started innocently when I wrote "Meredith" on an envelope using sparkly gel pens I got for Christmas. The next thing I know, I'm covering the envelope with elaborate doodles of rattles, moon and stars, a blankie and teddy bear.
It seemed a little like a dam burst. Since taking this job, my creativity has dropped to a trickle. I knew that once I stopped doing graphic design, I'd miss it, but I never expected this. If I didn't have a baby to be home with, I think I'd honestly consider changing jobs soon.
This epiphany felt like another confirmation that leaving this job in the fall to be home (and be creative again!) is the right thing to do.
I had a big doodle fest last night with some birthday cards and a baby shower card. It started innocently when I wrote "Meredith" on an envelope using sparkly gel pens I got for Christmas. The next thing I know, I'm covering the envelope with elaborate doodles of rattles, moon and stars, a blankie and teddy bear.
It seemed a little like a dam burst. Since taking this job, my creativity has dropped to a trickle. I knew that once I stopped doing graphic design, I'd miss it, but I never expected this. If I didn't have a baby to be home with, I think I'd honestly consider changing jobs soon.
This epiphany felt like another confirmation that leaving this job in the fall to be home (and be creative again!) is the right thing to do.
4.08.2003
No big surprise
In Middle Earth, I would be hanging out in Rivendell.
Elvish
To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
brought to you by Quizilla
I think that going on regular hiking and camping trips with my family to Rickett's Glen State Park, with its miles of mountain trails and amazing waterfalls, has made my soul a little more elvish. While I love Rohan, I'm a bit too timid to really fit in that culture.
What I'm waiting to see among the blog set is someone who comes up Entish. Or Dwarvish.
In Middle Earth, I would be hanging out in Rivendell.
Elvish
To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
brought to you by Quizilla
I think that going on regular hiking and camping trips with my family to Rickett's Glen State Park, with its miles of mountain trails and amazing waterfalls, has made my soul a little more elvish. While I love Rohan, I'm a bit too timid to really fit in that culture.
What I'm waiting to see among the blog set is someone who comes up Entish. Or Dwarvish.
4.07.2003
Making the shift
Yesterday I picked up a copy of Larry Burkett's Women Leaving the Workplace from our church library. I think it's just what I needed: a how-to book on going to one income written from a Christian perspective. It does a good job of balancing the ideas of God's provision and our stewardship. The reason many women don't make it staying home is because of poor planning.
I was encouraged to discover that we've already done all of the right things to make a one-income lifestyle possible. If anyone else is thinking about doing this, here's some of the planning steps Burkett mentions: get out of debt, practice living on one income, cut luxuries, reduce monthly expenses, build a savings cushion, make and stick to a budget.
Our only debt is our mortgage, which we're in the process of refinancing (though we did put 20% down when we bought). We own one car. We don't have cable. We've tried to live one income for basic expenses since we got married, using the second income to get out of debt and build up savings.
The next big challenge is budgeting. I kept a budget when I was single and found it time consuming and tedious. I think I need a simpler system that what I was using. It was good to keep track of what I was spending, but tracking more than a dozen categories made it too complicated. I think this Burkett book has a sample budget system in it, so I'll have to take a look.
Amy Dacyczyn who wrote the Tightwad Gazette books said their family doesn't budget that closely, they simply spend as little as possible on everything to save for larger goals, like paying off the mortgage early and saving for their kids' education (she has 6 kids). I think I agree with her premise that if the system is too complex, you'll give up.
Yesterday I picked up a copy of Larry Burkett's Women Leaving the Workplace from our church library. I think it's just what I needed: a how-to book on going to one income written from a Christian perspective. It does a good job of balancing the ideas of God's provision and our stewardship. The reason many women don't make it staying home is because of poor planning.
I was encouraged to discover that we've already done all of the right things to make a one-income lifestyle possible. If anyone else is thinking about doing this, here's some of the planning steps Burkett mentions: get out of debt, practice living on one income, cut luxuries, reduce monthly expenses, build a savings cushion, make and stick to a budget.
Our only debt is our mortgage, which we're in the process of refinancing (though we did put 20% down when we bought). We own one car. We don't have cable. We've tried to live one income for basic expenses since we got married, using the second income to get out of debt and build up savings.
The next big challenge is budgeting. I kept a budget when I was single and found it time consuming and tedious. I think I need a simpler system that what I was using. It was good to keep track of what I was spending, but tracking more than a dozen categories made it too complicated. I think this Burkett book has a sample budget system in it, so I'll have to take a look.
Amy Dacyczyn who wrote the Tightwad Gazette books said their family doesn't budget that closely, they simply spend as little as possible on everything to save for larger goals, like paying off the mortgage early and saving for their kids' education (she has 6 kids). I think I agree with her premise that if the system is too complex, you'll give up.
EDT
Well, I survived the week of working weird hours from home (10 a.m. - 7 p.m.) to help with the annual convention out in San Diego. Strangely I didn't hear much from the team while they were out there putting together three daily newspapers. From what my boss said, they were running so far behind most days, they had little time to edit stories.
Today, of course, I'm totally dragging because it's hard to make yourself go to bed early just because the clocks changed. The look on Claire's face when I woke her this morning summed it up: blink, blink, pout, crumple face, howl.
I feel the same way about the first week of daylight saving time.
Well, I survived the week of working weird hours from home (10 a.m. - 7 p.m.) to help with the annual convention out in San Diego. Strangely I didn't hear much from the team while they were out there putting together three daily newspapers. From what my boss said, they were running so far behind most days, they had little time to edit stories.
Today, of course, I'm totally dragging because it's hard to make yourself go to bed early just because the clocks changed. The look on Claire's face when I woke her this morning summed it up: blink, blink, pout, crumple face, howl.
I feel the same way about the first week of daylight saving time.
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