(After a short negotiation at the church door which ends in the Pastor presenting the Guy with a bag of groceries, and a can opener.)
Guy: And can I get three bucks?
Pastor: I cant give you cash, I'm sorry.
Guy: I just need three bucks. I'm a smoker.
Pastor: (repeat above)
Guy: I would hate to go to jail for stealing a pack of cigarettes. It's just three bucks.
Pastor: (repeat again)
Guy: Well, are there any other churches around here?
Pastor: There are lots of churches in this neighborhood, but I dont know any that give out money for smokes.
Guy (walking away with groceries) Well, hey, Jesus was a smoker.....
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
In which Juniper discovers podcasting
You know how certain technologies are easy to use and work like they're supposed to nearly every single time (the toaster oven, say, or the dvd player) whereas others work only when the proper shamanic formulas are chanted over them (the fax machine comes to mind, as does the sewing machine).
Well, anything to do with podcasting has always fallen firmly into the second category for me. I've had an iPhone for a while, but whenever I would try to actually get a podcast from the vapor of the internet INTO my computer and from there ONTO my phone, something would be, I believe the technical term is, wonky. So for about a year, I had one and half episodes of The Splendid Table in my podcast menu, and nothing else. Also, I was almost mortally mortified when my brother went to look at my "music" in March and found that the only music I had at all was half of the "Jesus Christ Superstar" soundtrack that I had somehow uploaded by accident.
Well, I am happy to report the after long months of frustration, my recent houseguests* enthusiastic conversation about RadioLab set me trying again and at last somehow Learning Has Happened, and I now can listen to podcasts! And Jeff helped me download some music!
So, two things. First of all, if you havent already, (I mean, of course you have already, because you've been podcasting for YEARS, but you're humoring me, right, since I'm the new girl on the block here?) check out Pray As You Go, which I heard about in an in-one-ear-and-out-the-other sort of way on someone else's blog months ago (Sarah? Was that you?). It's just delicious.
Really, if you knew how many hours in the last 8 months I have spent getting a little less mediocre at facebook scramble instead of praying (among a gazillion other things I could have been doing), I would be mortally mortified again for the second time in one post.
Because usually? For real? I find it kind of hard to pray with Bible. I'm so used to study or sermon prep from the Bible that whenever I open it to pray by mind starts whirling about how I can Use This Somehow. But, maybe because it's already its own neat little package - the music, the scripture read twice, the soothing Irish voices encouraging you in the gentlest possible way to pull your head out of whatever hole you have it buried in and pay attention to how Christ is working in the world, and wants you to work in the world - it's very compelling. And think better for me, in the long run, than getting less mediocre at scramble.
Ok, second. iTunes genius playlist. I know, I know, I know, you smartypantses have been doing this for years and this is like nothing to you, but bear with me. I'm like a child on her first roller coaster. If that was a good thing for you. Which it wasnt exactly for me, but you know what I mean.
Anyway, to experiment, I tried making a list from the Wallets Take It. I purposely picked an obscure-ish band. I mean, the Wallets are obscure, right? Unless you went to college in Minnesota in 1989?
I was going to print out the whole list it made, but it seemed kind of overwhelming, but let's just say that if a mix of Three Dog Night's happiest ones, Duffy's saddest ones, Santana's awesomest ones, Talking Heads rockingest ones and The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald thrown in for good measure would make you happy enough to burst, than you can understand how I feel. Well, maybe only if you went to college in Minnesota in 1989.....
Wait. there's probably some way to actually save this list on actual iTunes so you could actually listen to it, but I think that would require more than I can really expect of myself for one week.
_____________
*This mere mention does not do justice, btw, the awesomeness of visit from said houseguests. Confidential to SG - I have your white t-shirt. I'm considering holding it ransom until you come visit again, but instead I'll probably put in the mail soon. But really. Come visit again. It was so very very very great to see you.
Well, anything to do with podcasting has always fallen firmly into the second category for me. I've had an iPhone for a while, but whenever I would try to actually get a podcast from the vapor of the internet INTO my computer and from there ONTO my phone, something would be, I believe the technical term is, wonky. So for about a year, I had one and half episodes of The Splendid Table in my podcast menu, and nothing else. Also, I was almost mortally mortified when my brother went to look at my "music" in March and found that the only music I had at all was half of the "Jesus Christ Superstar" soundtrack that I had somehow uploaded by accident.
Well, I am happy to report the after long months of frustration, my recent houseguests* enthusiastic conversation about RadioLab set me trying again and at last somehow Learning Has Happened, and I now can listen to podcasts! And Jeff helped me download some music!
So, two things. First of all, if you havent already, (I mean, of course you have already, because you've been podcasting for YEARS, but you're humoring me, right, since I'm the new girl on the block here?) check out Pray As You Go, which I heard about in an in-one-ear-and-out-the-other sort of way on someone else's blog months ago (Sarah? Was that you?). It's just delicious.
Really, if you knew how many hours in the last 8 months I have spent getting a little less mediocre at facebook scramble instead of praying (among a gazillion other things I could have been doing), I would be mortally mortified again for the second time in one post.
Because usually? For real? I find it kind of hard to pray with Bible. I'm so used to study or sermon prep from the Bible that whenever I open it to pray by mind starts whirling about how I can Use This Somehow. But, maybe because it's already its own neat little package - the music, the scripture read twice, the soothing Irish voices encouraging you in the gentlest possible way to pull your head out of whatever hole you have it buried in and pay attention to how Christ is working in the world, and wants you to work in the world - it's very compelling. And think better for me, in the long run, than getting less mediocre at scramble.
Ok, second. iTunes genius playlist. I know, I know, I know, you smartypantses have been doing this for years and this is like nothing to you, but bear with me. I'm like a child on her first roller coaster. If that was a good thing for you. Which it wasnt exactly for me, but you know what I mean.
Anyway, to experiment, I tried making a list from the Wallets Take It. I purposely picked an obscure-ish band. I mean, the Wallets are obscure, right? Unless you went to college in Minnesota in 1989?
I was going to print out the whole list it made, but it seemed kind of overwhelming, but let's just say that if a mix of Three Dog Night's happiest ones, Duffy's saddest ones, Santana's awesomest ones, Talking Heads rockingest ones and The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald thrown in for good measure would make you happy enough to burst, than you can understand how I feel. Well, maybe only if you went to college in Minnesota in 1989.....
Wait. there's probably some way to actually save this list on actual iTunes so you could actually listen to it, but I think that would require more than I can really expect of myself for one week.
_____________
*This mere mention does not do justice, btw, the awesomeness of visit from said houseguests. Confidential to SG - I have your white t-shirt. I'm considering holding it ransom until you come visit again, but instead I'll probably put in the mail soon. But really. Come visit again. It was so very very very great to see you.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Once a month, whether you need it or not, blog post. On finding home.
I went for a walk tonight to the Plaid Pantry (the scariest corner store ever, even in our benign neighborhood) to get some Tums. I dont want to get too into it, but let's just say that eating half your weight in Kettle Korn is never going to go well, no matter what other manner of fun (parade! brats for lunch! pool time! baseball game! fireworks!) goes on.
I havent had the need for this particular product since I was pregnant with Eli, when I used to pop them like candy. At that time, we lived in a tiny, noisy apartment, and the building manager was pregnant, too and one time she gave me her last Tums ("This is my LAST ONE" she told me) at, like, 11 at night when I asked her for it. I'll probably never see her again, but I'll always be grateful for that Tums.
As I walked back past a couple rows of apartment buildings, I listened to a particularly melancholy shuffle on the iPhone (honestly, how anyone can call THREE Sufjan Stephens songs in 20 minutes "random" is beyond me) that included Nanci Griffith's version of I Cant Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound and I remembered how I used to push baby E's stroller around and look intently at the neighborhood houses when we lived in that little apartment and be certain I'd never ever ever feel settled anywhere.
Friends tell me sometimes that they have that feeling, and I have so much compassion for it. I remember that sort of panicked resentment that comes from feeling that things arent quite worked out yet. So tell me if you feel that way, and I'll give you a hug and Tums. And I'll tell you, one day it is totally possible be on the other side of this. I am living proof.
I havent had the need for this particular product since I was pregnant with Eli, when I used to pop them like candy. At that time, we lived in a tiny, noisy apartment, and the building manager was pregnant, too and one time she gave me her last Tums ("This is my LAST ONE" she told me) at, like, 11 at night when I asked her for it. I'll probably never see her again, but I'll always be grateful for that Tums.
As I walked back past a couple rows of apartment buildings, I listened to a particularly melancholy shuffle on the iPhone (honestly, how anyone can call THREE Sufjan Stephens songs in 20 minutes "random" is beyond me) that included Nanci Griffith's version of I Cant Help But Wonder Where I'm Bound and I remembered how I used to push baby E's stroller around and look intently at the neighborhood houses when we lived in that little apartment and be certain I'd never ever ever feel settled anywhere.
Friends tell me sometimes that they have that feeling, and I have so much compassion for it. I remember that sort of panicked resentment that comes from feeling that things arent quite worked out yet. So tell me if you feel that way, and I'll give you a hug and Tums. And I'll tell you, one day it is totally possible be on the other side of this. I am living proof.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Unexpected things happening before 8:37 am on Monday morning
-Hearing a little boy wake up crying because it is the last week of school and "I love school and I hate summer."
-Snuggling with the boy on the couch, instead of rushing around like usual.
-While snuggling, noticing the longest lostest library book ever, sitting sideways in the shelf. Rejoicing therefore.
-While showering, getting interrupted by facts from the newly found book. Which is Ghost Ships Of The Deep, btw, so each fact is gruesomer than the last.
-Driving to school (all that snuggling makes us miss the bus) and thanking the boy's teacher for being the kind of teacher he doesnt want to have summer vacation for.
-Driving home from school and seeing a Lincoln Towncar with a Franciscan University bumper sticker and wondering "What WOULD St. Francis say?"
-Noticing the "All Trees and Shrubs 40% Off!" sign and wondering if that is a sermon invitation, or an invitation to more gardening.
-Remembering to turn on the drip line that waters the daisies.
-Remembering to turn off the drip line that waters the daisies
-Snuggling with the boy on the couch, instead of rushing around like usual.
-While snuggling, noticing the longest lostest library book ever, sitting sideways in the shelf. Rejoicing therefore.
-While showering, getting interrupted by facts from the newly found book. Which is Ghost Ships Of The Deep, btw, so each fact is gruesomer than the last.
-Driving to school (all that snuggling makes us miss the bus) and thanking the boy's teacher for being the kind of teacher he doesnt want to have summer vacation for.
-Driving home from school and seeing a Lincoln Towncar with a Franciscan University bumper sticker and wondering "What WOULD St. Francis say?"
-Noticing the "All Trees and Shrubs 40% Off!" sign and wondering if that is a sermon invitation, or an invitation to more gardening.
-Remembering to turn on the drip line that waters the daisies.
-Remembering to turn off the drip line that waters the daisies
Thursday, May 28, 2009
cusp of summer thoughts
Of course, there is so much to do.
And when I havent actually been doing it,
I've been worrying about doing it.
Or worrying about not doing it.
Or worrying about when am I gonna do it.
Or worrying are the people who said they would do some of it going to really do it.
Or worrying am I going to have to do it all anyway? Like always? (Let's all heave a big sigh for this one, fellow martyrs.)
So this week, I crashed a little the way I do which was to get a big headache that sent me to bed for the day. I had to cancel some stuff, which liberated the You Are Not Trustworthy goblin, who danced all over my chest for awhile. But, the people I canceled stuff with were/are so very much kinder to me than I have the capacity to be to myself on occasions like this.
It helps that the blogosphere, in its sneaky improbable way is speaking right to me these days. Especially Magpie and Revmother. (oops, here comes the It's Not All About You goblin....down, down, boy)
So I'm trying to be kinder. For instance. Even though I had a sick day, I am not working an extra day this weekend to make it up. I'm just taking a sick day like a normal person. My sermon is ready and my childrens time, during which we will sing happy birthday dear churrr-rrrch, so tomorrow and Saturday are all about family stuff.
Gratitude helps, too. I am looking forward to some time with mom, who comes tomorrow for a couple of days. Awesome Sarah will be here in a month. I have so much abundance of love and help and freedom and books and kicky new capris that it's actually breathtaking. As in. If I really stop to think it about it I sort of cant breathe from joy for a moment.
And I'm sitting outside. Because it's so very lovely here right here. Like, you know how you imagine absolutely perfect weather but think it never really happnes? It DOES happen, though, and it is, right now. So that when you go outside, it's kind of hard not to look up and around, instead of deep into your own navel. Even for me. Which is saying something.
And when I havent actually been doing it,
I've been worrying about doing it.
Or worrying about not doing it.
Or worrying about when am I gonna do it.
Or worrying are the people who said they would do some of it going to really do it.
Or worrying am I going to have to do it all anyway? Like always? (Let's all heave a big sigh for this one, fellow martyrs.)
So this week, I crashed a little the way I do which was to get a big headache that sent me to bed for the day. I had to cancel some stuff, which liberated the You Are Not Trustworthy goblin, who danced all over my chest for awhile. But, the people I canceled stuff with were/are so very much kinder to me than I have the capacity to be to myself on occasions like this.
It helps that the blogosphere, in its sneaky improbable way is speaking right to me these days. Especially Magpie and Revmother. (oops, here comes the It's Not All About You goblin....down, down, boy)
So I'm trying to be kinder. For instance. Even though I had a sick day, I am not working an extra day this weekend to make it up. I'm just taking a sick day like a normal person. My sermon is ready and my childrens time, during which we will sing happy birthday dear churrr-rrrch, so tomorrow and Saturday are all about family stuff.
Gratitude helps, too. I am looking forward to some time with mom, who comes tomorrow for a couple of days. Awesome Sarah will be here in a month. I have so much abundance of love and help and freedom and books and kicky new capris that it's actually breathtaking. As in. If I really stop to think it about it I sort of cant breathe from joy for a moment.
And I'm sitting outside. Because it's so very lovely here right here. Like, you know how you imagine absolutely perfect weather but think it never really happnes? It DOES happen, though, and it is, right now. So that when you go outside, it's kind of hard not to look up and around, instead of deep into your own navel. Even for me. Which is saying something.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Same Planet, Different Worlds
Overheard while tiptoeing through my husband's home office, while he was on the phone with his workplace (where this, incidently, is currently the number one seller in apparel. See what snarkiness will get you?).
"...so then he realized that wouldn't be such a great idea since only like 10,000 people would see it, as opposed to the other idea which would be seen by like, millions..."
"...so then he realized that wouldn't be such a great idea since only like 10,000 people would see it, as opposed to the other idea which would be seen by like, millions..."
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
God Talk
Here's what I've been hearing/reading about God today:
We believe in you, O God, Eternal Spirit, God of our Savior Jesus Christ and our God, and to your deeds we testify:
You call the worlds into being, create persons in your own image, and set before each one the ways of life and death.
You seek in holy love to save all people from aimlessness and sin.
You judge people and nations by your righteous will declared through prophets and apostles.
-The United Church of Christ Statement of Faith in the form of a doxology
God invented the surfboard
to keep the truly great
from ruling the world.
-Bumper sticker seen in Multnomah Village
I am an atheist. I was raised a Christian of some sort, but the more I traveled around the world, the more I knew there was no God.
-Conversation with a shopkeeper
How about you? What's the one thing you can say for sure about God?
If it helps, think of it like a status update: God is....
We believe in you, O God, Eternal Spirit, God of our Savior Jesus Christ and our God, and to your deeds we testify:
You call the worlds into being, create persons in your own image, and set before each one the ways of life and death.
You seek in holy love to save all people from aimlessness and sin.
You judge people and nations by your righteous will declared through prophets and apostles.
-The United Church of Christ Statement of Faith in the form of a doxology
God invented the surfboard
to keep the truly great
from ruling the world.
-Bumper sticker seen in Multnomah Village
I am an atheist. I was raised a Christian of some sort, but the more I traveled around the world, the more I knew there was no God.
-Conversation with a shopkeeper
How about you? What's the one thing you can say for sure about God?
If it helps, think of it like a status update: God is....
Thursday, May 14, 2009
What to eat when you get home late and need something fast, hot and filling.
Because Mark Bittman says somewhere not to worry about the pasta snobs who tell you not to reheat your pasta. He claims that they do it too.
Heat a fair amount of olive oil (maybe a T or so) on medium-high heat.
Throw in a little crushed garlic
and a smattering of red pepper flakes.
Throw in a handful of cooked rotini pasta and
a half handful of walnuts.
Cook a minute or so until it's heated through.
Smother in parmesan cheese.
Eat it up!
Heat a fair amount of olive oil (maybe a T or so) on medium-high heat.
Throw in a little crushed garlic
and a smattering of red pepper flakes.
Throw in a handful of cooked rotini pasta and
a half handful of walnuts.
Cook a minute or so until it's heated through.
Smother in parmesan cheese.
Eat it up!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Things I Want To Do
I started a little controversy recently by referring to myself as middle aged. I always thought that "middle aged" was the middle of life, and if I live until 80, I'll feel like that's a pretty good run. So, now I'm 40 and hence middle aged, the logic goes. But evidently, for other people, middle aged stretches way into the distant future, to the age at which I'm planning to just ahead and call myself "old." Anyway, for the first time in my life I find myself thinking when I hear of a thing that sounds like fun "Oh, I should put that on the list of Things I Want To Do Before I Die." Now that I'm middle aged.
I usually dont feel like much of a planner - most of the time I think I just sort of take what comes. And my life is pretty crowded with other people and THEIR plans - both immediate and distant. But when you start thinking mortal thoughts, it can be actually very freeing. If I start a list at random, in no particular order, what comes out first is:
1. Take my son to Disneyland.
2. Plant a vegetable garden that actually grows vegetables that humans can actually eat.
3. Read Tolstoy. Also Dostoyevsky.
4. Train a puppy.
5. Walk the Camino.
There are probably lots more. But I have to stop here to say this.
I dont think much about traveling. With 3 people in my family in various stages of health (physical, psychological and developmental - respectively) travelling seems like an awful lot of work most of the time. But once I think "well, one day, my life might have the kind of space in which I COULD go on pilgrimage for 3 weeks" and I go ahead an type "Camino" on this list, then I start thinking of all sorts of other travels that would be appealing.
Take a long, leisurely driving trip to Yellowstone and other western points to the east of us.
Eat a croissant in Paris. And then lots of other meals.
Spend a couple of weeks that weird buddhist/jesuit monastery we visited for an afternoon in the mountains in India.
Or take a boat around the Galapagos. Wait a minute, I dont actually like boats. But then again, neither did Darwin, and look what happened to HIM when he sailed around the Galapagos.
I guess I'm not going to be able to ever do these things, unless I can start imagining them as possibilities. So if you catch me sitting around, staring off into the distance, you'll know what I'm doing. I'm making that list of Things I Want to Do Before You Know What. And it's getting really, really, really long.
(For some reason, btw, going to Disney doesnt count as travel in my head. How about you?)
I usually dont feel like much of a planner - most of the time I think I just sort of take what comes. And my life is pretty crowded with other people and THEIR plans - both immediate and distant. But when you start thinking mortal thoughts, it can be actually very freeing. If I start a list at random, in no particular order, what comes out first is:
1. Take my son to Disneyland.
2. Plant a vegetable garden that actually grows vegetables that humans can actually eat.
3. Read Tolstoy. Also Dostoyevsky.
4. Train a puppy.
5. Walk the Camino.
There are probably lots more. But I have to stop here to say this.
I dont think much about traveling. With 3 people in my family in various stages of health (physical, psychological and developmental - respectively) travelling seems like an awful lot of work most of the time. But once I think "well, one day, my life might have the kind of space in which I COULD go on pilgrimage for 3 weeks" and I go ahead an type "Camino" on this list, then I start thinking of all sorts of other travels that would be appealing.
Take a long, leisurely driving trip to Yellowstone and other western points to the east of us.
Eat a croissant in Paris. And then lots of other meals.
Spend a couple of weeks that weird buddhist/jesuit monastery we visited for an afternoon in the mountains in India.
Or take a boat around the Galapagos. Wait a minute, I dont actually like boats. But then again, neither did Darwin, and look what happened to HIM when he sailed around the Galapagos.
I guess I'm not going to be able to ever do these things, unless I can start imagining them as possibilities. So if you catch me sitting around, staring off into the distance, you'll know what I'm doing. I'm making that list of Things I Want to Do Before You Know What. And it's getting really, really, really long.
(For some reason, btw, going to Disney doesnt count as travel in my head. How about you?)
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Books I'm Part Way Through
I was responding to a month-old post over at Facebook about kids books, when I realized that I havent updated about books that I'VE been reading lately, and then I realized that's because I havent actually finished a book for a while. But I've started a bunch. Here, in no particular order:
Wickett's Remedy by Myla Goldberg. Listening to this on tape in my car. Although this books is peculiarly plot-less, the characters are less developed than I like (the heroine, Lydia, is so gentle, kind, calm, and courageous for no apparant reason that it's sort of ridiculous), and it's about the Spanish flu epidemic (certainly not a very uplifting topic just now) -- I cant seem to stop listening to it. So Goldberg must be doing something right.
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. Well, of course, I really love this book. And you would too. I mean, what's not to love? I'm about 40 pages in, but it's so incredibly atmospheric, that I feel like I want to read it when I have a really long day to get totally immersed in the world of it. Which I dont have right now.
Birchbark House. I dont think you have to have had a Madeline Island childhood, which I did, to think this book is really fascinating. Fascinating historical detail, combined with very relatable family dynamics. Really good and cant wait to finish it.
My Stroke of Insight. This is that book about the brain specialist who gets a stroke and describes it in vivid detail. I really liked all the medical stuff, and her description of actually having the stroke is so astounding, I cant imagine anyone being un-interested. But then, I kind of petered out on it when she started getting into that part about remaking her brain. I have an allergy to that If You Think It You Can Be It theology, so I gave up on it. But Someone I Respect (thank you Don) advises it's worth finishing, so I'm going to try.
Animal Vegetable Miracle. What is WRONG with me? Every time I try to read this book, I get 4 pages in and then stop. I just cant make myself read it for some reason. Probably just feeling guilty that I'm pretty much a 100% packaged food eater right now.
Vows: The Story of a Priest, a Nun and Their Son. I got this on a whim from an endcap at the library since the title is so eye-catching (yes, I AM that kind of reader) and I was just going to take it back unread when it came due (yes, I'm that kind of library patron, too) , but I accidentally read a few pages and the writing is so lovely, compelling, gracious, kind and truthful all at once that I was drawn right in. And of course, the story is compelling too. So I renewed it, and I'm going to read it after all.
Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Why havent I finished this book? I have no idea, because every time I open it again, I am fascinated. But I've been on page 354 since January. Maybe it's time to get going on it again, and finally return it to the parishioner who loaned it to me last fall.
It's totally excusable that I havent finished Team of Rivals yet, though. I loaned THAT one to someone else. The truth is, I got kind of bogged down in the middle. But as soon as I get it back, I really intend to re-persevere.
And please dont think less of me if I tell you the book that I HAVE finished this week is silly, silly, silly dear old Aunt Dimity Beats the Devil. A woman's got to turn her brain off SOMETIME.
Wickett's Remedy by Myla Goldberg. Listening to this on tape in my car. Although this books is peculiarly plot-less, the characters are less developed than I like (the heroine, Lydia, is so gentle, kind, calm, and courageous for no apparant reason that it's sort of ridiculous), and it's about the Spanish flu epidemic (certainly not a very uplifting topic just now) -- I cant seem to stop listening to it. So Goldberg must be doing something right.
The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. Well, of course, I really love this book. And you would too. I mean, what's not to love? I'm about 40 pages in, but it's so incredibly atmospheric, that I feel like I want to read it when I have a really long day to get totally immersed in the world of it. Which I dont have right now.
Birchbark House. I dont think you have to have had a Madeline Island childhood, which I did, to think this book is really fascinating. Fascinating historical detail, combined with very relatable family dynamics. Really good and cant wait to finish it.
My Stroke of Insight. This is that book about the brain specialist who gets a stroke and describes it in vivid detail. I really liked all the medical stuff, and her description of actually having the stroke is so astounding, I cant imagine anyone being un-interested. But then, I kind of petered out on it when she started getting into that part about remaking her brain. I have an allergy to that If You Think It You Can Be It theology, so I gave up on it. But Someone I Respect (thank you Don) advises it's worth finishing, so I'm going to try.
Animal Vegetable Miracle. What is WRONG with me? Every time I try to read this book, I get 4 pages in and then stop. I just cant make myself read it for some reason. Probably just feeling guilty that I'm pretty much a 100% packaged food eater right now.
Vows: The Story of a Priest, a Nun and Their Son. I got this on a whim from an endcap at the library since the title is so eye-catching (yes, I AM that kind of reader) and I was just going to take it back unread when it came due (yes, I'm that kind of library patron, too) , but I accidentally read a few pages and the writing is so lovely, compelling, gracious, kind and truthful all at once that I was drawn right in. And of course, the story is compelling too. So I renewed it, and I'm going to read it after all.
Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Why havent I finished this book? I have no idea, because every time I open it again, I am fascinated. But I've been on page 354 since January. Maybe it's time to get going on it again, and finally return it to the parishioner who loaned it to me last fall.
It's totally excusable that I havent finished Team of Rivals yet, though. I loaned THAT one to someone else. The truth is, I got kind of bogged down in the middle. But as soon as I get it back, I really intend to re-persevere.
And please dont think less of me if I tell you the book that I HAVE finished this week is silly, silly, silly dear old Aunt Dimity Beats the Devil. A woman's got to turn her brain off SOMETIME.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Holy Week Prayer for Pastors and Others Who Tend To Run Around Like Chickens (and not the cute fuzzy baby ones either) At This Time of Year
cross posted at RevGalPrayerPals
OK.
Do this now.
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Breath in...
Breathe out...
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
You are alive.
And though you cannot yet say
Alleluia
You can still give thanks for each breath.
OK.
Do this now.
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
Breath in...
Breathe out...
Breathe in...
Breathe out...
You are alive.
And though you cannot yet say
Alleluia
You can still give thanks for each breath.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Life in space - An Elijahlogue
When E saw me crying, he sat on lap, put his arms tenderly around my neck, leaned gently into my chest and said with great understanding:
"It's like Apollo 1 blew up in your heart."
Precisely.
"It's like Apollo 1 blew up in your heart."
Precisely.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
On my mind
There's been a lot on my mind lately.
From the mundane (Such as "Whoever invented the idea of packing school lunch the night before is GENIUS. Turns out, organized people arent just being smug jerks - they really are happier than you." and "Got a new pair of boots with some unexpected money that came my way - those Frye's I've had my eye on for about 12 years now.")
To the sublime (Such as "Learned some great new things about icons last night at our Lent soup supper thing. from the presenter: 'They weren't stupid, you know. They knew Jesus wasnt born looking like a little man. It's just a way to show that he existed already before, that he was there with the Father from the beginning.' or 'Mary shows us all how to carry Christ out into the world.' " and "So far I'm not seeing the economy have the effect that my depression era friends tell me about - the one where the guy comes to the back door and your mom gives him a little job and a plate of something to eat. I'm thinking we all might be hunkering into our own corners more than we need to. Am thinking/praying about how to respond to that.")
Also, could catch you up on the ibot (AWESOME), maybe get some ideas from you about a kitchen renovation we are thinking about or a Palm Sunday worship I'm starting to think about that incorporates the Haggadah.
However. I cant think about that right now.
Because E is home sick. He's pretty much divided his time between bed and couch since Friday afternoon. It's so weird to see him like this because usually he never sits still. He's got a high fever, coughing, and lots of, er, production of body fluids of all kinds. We took him to the doc yesterday who diagnosed infection, not virus and put him on a 10 day course of that nasty pink antibiotic. We were a little freaked at his oxygen levels (down at 90, which in the old days would have gotten him a trip to the hospital and the O2 mask) but the doc didnt worry because "he doesnt look bad." Evidently that means that he is not blue.
(Again, reminded us of the old days, when E struggled to breathe pretty much all winter. When we would finally call the doctor's office to see if we should come in or keep treating at home, they'd always ask "is he blue?". I mean, honestly, does anyone really call an office where you have to push buttons, listen to hold music and get routed around for 20 minutes if your child is BLUE? I would hope not.)
The good thing is with all the time we have for sitting around, we are ripping through Narnia books like gangbusters. Which hold up pretty well in adulthood, so we're enjoying them equally. Read all at once, the books turn out to have more an arc as a series than I remember. Also, turns out my tendency toward excessive parentheses usage is a direct result of too much CS Lewis as a kid. Man, that guy can parenthesee. Also, write about food in a way that sends me to the toast and butter every time.
Anyway, it's hard to think of the other things I want to write about, because they are crowded out with about 30% worry and about 70% gratitude for living in times in which the nasty pink medicine means that we'll have our boy back in a day or two.
From the mundane (Such as "Whoever invented the idea of packing school lunch the night before is GENIUS. Turns out, organized people arent just being smug jerks - they really are happier than you." and "Got a new pair of boots with some unexpected money that came my way - those Frye's I've had my eye on for about 12 years now.")
To the sublime (Such as "Learned some great new things about icons last night at our Lent soup supper thing. from the presenter: 'They weren't stupid, you know. They knew Jesus wasnt born looking like a little man. It's just a way to show that he existed already before, that he was there with the Father from the beginning.' or 'Mary shows us all how to carry Christ out into the world.' " and "So far I'm not seeing the economy have the effect that my depression era friends tell me about - the one where the guy comes to the back door and your mom gives him a little job and a plate of something to eat. I'm thinking we all might be hunkering into our own corners more than we need to. Am thinking/praying about how to respond to that.")
Also, could catch you up on the ibot (AWESOME), maybe get some ideas from you about a kitchen renovation we are thinking about or a Palm Sunday worship I'm starting to think about that incorporates the Haggadah.
However. I cant think about that right now.
Because E is home sick. He's pretty much divided his time between bed and couch since Friday afternoon. It's so weird to see him like this because usually he never sits still. He's got a high fever, coughing, and lots of, er, production of body fluids of all kinds. We took him to the doc yesterday who diagnosed infection, not virus and put him on a 10 day course of that nasty pink antibiotic. We were a little freaked at his oxygen levels (down at 90, which in the old days would have gotten him a trip to the hospital and the O2 mask) but the doc didnt worry because "he doesnt look bad." Evidently that means that he is not blue.
(Again, reminded us of the old days, when E struggled to breathe pretty much all winter. When we would finally call the doctor's office to see if we should come in or keep treating at home, they'd always ask "is he blue?". I mean, honestly, does anyone really call an office where you have to push buttons, listen to hold music and get routed around for 20 minutes if your child is BLUE? I would hope not.)
The good thing is with all the time we have for sitting around, we are ripping through Narnia books like gangbusters. Which hold up pretty well in adulthood, so we're enjoying them equally. Read all at once, the books turn out to have more an arc as a series than I remember. Also, turns out my tendency toward excessive parentheses usage is a direct result of too much CS Lewis as a kid. Man, that guy can parenthesee. Also, write about food in a way that sends me to the toast and butter every time.
Anyway, it's hard to think of the other things I want to write about, because they are crowded out with about 30% worry and about 70% gratitude for living in times in which the nasty pink medicine means that we'll have our boy back in a day or two.
Monday, February 09, 2009
A few short scenes from today
After a restless night in which none of us slept much (E came into our room at 3:30 am asking so sweetly if he could "just play quietly for a little while" that I couldnt say no. J and I kept waking each other up, talking in our sleep), we got out of town an hour later than we'd hoped to.
Somehow arrived in Eugene though, only half an hour late, and after wandering the hospital for a while (it's the kind of building where, once you get on The Wrong Elevator some serious back tracking is required) we found the rehab room where they do the training (6 hours) and test (15 minutes).
Thoughts on the ibot so far:
Our favorite part is that it can raise so very tall. The stair function (yes! it does go up and down stairs!) scares me silly - there's a lot of very counterintuitive-feeling pushing off the edge of things that has to happen.
E came with us, and I'm glad he did. His favorite part (which he knew in advance would be his favorite) is the lights. He took some pictures. If they turn out, I'll post 'em.
The computer that runs the machine is obviously designed by a genius because it is incredibly complicated. J says in design that call that "modal" meaning "it has lots of modes." Indeed.
We made our first errand with the ibot - to Trader Joes, natch. J hunted and gathered the bread off. the. top. shelf! And people stopped him to talk about how he could possibly do that thing with balancing on two wheels. It was awesome.
Our dog knew J right away. We did not know if she would recognize him out of the scooter.
We are all very tired now from anticipation and thinking and hard work.
There are some mountains to climb tomorrow - transfers to figure out and some furniture to rearrange. But for now, we are all going to sleep.
Here we are, on our hunt and gather at the grocery store, taken from my phone so all grainy and stuff, but you get the mood, I think. More photos to follow, I am sure.
Somehow arrived in Eugene though, only half an hour late, and after wandering the hospital for a while (it's the kind of building where, once you get on The Wrong Elevator some serious back tracking is required) we found the rehab room where they do the training (6 hours) and test (15 minutes).
Thoughts on the ibot so far:
Our favorite part is that it can raise so very tall. The stair function (yes! it does go up and down stairs!) scares me silly - there's a lot of very counterintuitive-feeling pushing off the edge of things that has to happen.
E came with us, and I'm glad he did. His favorite part (which he knew in advance would be his favorite) is the lights. He took some pictures. If they turn out, I'll post 'em.
The computer that runs the machine is obviously designed by a genius because it is incredibly complicated. J says in design that call that "modal" meaning "it has lots of modes." Indeed.
We made our first errand with the ibot - to Trader Joes, natch. J hunted and gathered the bread off. the. top. shelf! And people stopped him to talk about how he could possibly do that thing with balancing on two wheels. It was awesome.
Our dog knew J right away. We did not know if she would recognize him out of the scooter.
We are all very tired now from anticipation and thinking and hard work.
There are some mountains to climb tomorrow - transfers to figure out and some furniture to rearrange. But for now, we are all going to sleep.
Here we are, on our hunt and gather at the grocery store, taken from my phone so all grainy and stuff, but you get the mood, I think. More photos to follow, I am sure.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Dreaming
We are counting down to the Ibot. Monday the 9th is testing day and (if we pass the test as driver and assistant) pick up day - an all-day project.
There has been a lot of drama in the ordering process (including! the company that makes the ibot is going out of business! but we will still be able to buy one! and they will keep servicing them for a while!) but it seems like we really are going to have it soon.
This is going to be such a big change for our family, that none of us can really imagine it. In the meantime, I'm working out the life-changingness in my dreams -- such as Sunday night, when I dreamed that Don Rickels was actually a very nice guy, and last night when I dreamed that J was having surgery to have all his teeth* removed and new ones put in.
In the meantime, life just seems to be happening, but there is always the hum -- the Ibot is coming, the Ibot is coming, the Ibot is coming.....
*J's teeth are actually the strongest thing about him. Thank you Minnesota floridated water!
There has been a lot of drama in the ordering process (including! the company that makes the ibot is going out of business! but we will still be able to buy one! and they will keep servicing them for a while!) but it seems like we really are going to have it soon.
This is going to be such a big change for our family, that none of us can really imagine it. In the meantime, I'm working out the life-changingness in my dreams -- such as Sunday night, when I dreamed that Don Rickels was actually a very nice guy, and last night when I dreamed that J was having surgery to have all his teeth* removed and new ones put in.
In the meantime, life just seems to be happening, but there is always the hum -- the Ibot is coming, the Ibot is coming, the Ibot is coming.....
*J's teeth are actually the strongest thing about him. Thank you Minnesota floridated water!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
help
Today I helped E tie his shoes.
He tied the first tie. I tied the bow. He tied the double knot.
He grinned at me. "That feels so much better!"
"Better than your old shoes?"
"No - better when you help me."
I've been thinking lately that now that he's big there are certain things he needs to do on his own - and tying his shoes has been a major power struggle for us. The conversation continued.
"Yeah, it feels better to me to. Sometimes I make bad choices, and that not helping you with your shoes thing was one of them."
"Yeah."
I'm sort of getting it that I want him to be able to do what he can do, but that frustrating him to the point of tears about something he's not quite ready to do doesnt actually help him learn to do it. I'm sort of getting it that I want him to know he can rely on me and others to help him when he needs it, not feel that he has to figure everything out by himself, even though he is very big now that he's six. I'm sort of getting it that if he has the deep confidence that help is available to him, it will help him be helpful too, when his time comes. I'm sort of getting it, but I'm not all the way there yet.
I hope he'll be patient with me while I keep learning that.
He tied the first tie. I tied the bow. He tied the double knot.
He grinned at me. "That feels so much better!"
"Better than your old shoes?"
"No - better when you help me."
I've been thinking lately that now that he's big there are certain things he needs to do on his own - and tying his shoes has been a major power struggle for us. The conversation continued.
"Yeah, it feels better to me to. Sometimes I make bad choices, and that not helping you with your shoes thing was one of them."
"Yeah."
I'm sort of getting it that I want him to be able to do what he can do, but that frustrating him to the point of tears about something he's not quite ready to do doesnt actually help him learn to do it. I'm sort of getting it that I want him to know he can rely on me and others to help him when he needs it, not feel that he has to figure everything out by himself, even though he is very big now that he's six. I'm sort of getting it that if he has the deep confidence that help is available to him, it will help him be helpful too, when his time comes. I'm sort of getting it, but I'm not all the way there yet.
I hope he'll be patient with me while I keep learning that.
Monday, January 19, 2009
A note from my brother alerted me to this...
...from the Huffington Post. Thanks bro!
Sunday's big Lincoln Memorial show was billed as the "We Are One" concert, intended to celebrate the inauguration of Barack Obama with a spirit of unity. But for those of us watching at home, one participant was excluded -- Gene Robinson, the "first openly gay, non-celibate priest to be ordained a bishop in a major Christian denomination."
For those of us not among the million at the mall, here it is is:
"O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will bless us with tears - tears for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women in many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Sunday's big Lincoln Memorial show was billed as the "We Are One" concert, intended to celebrate the inauguration of Barack Obama with a spirit of unity. But for those of us watching at home, one participant was excluded -- Gene Robinson, the "first openly gay, non-celibate priest to be ordained a bishop in a major Christian denomination."
For those of us not among the million at the mall, here it is is:
"O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will bless us with tears - tears for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where young women in many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, malaria, and AIDS.
Bless this nation with anger - anger at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender people.
Bless us with discomfort at the easy, simplistic answers we've preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth about ourselves and our world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.
Bless us with patience and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be fixed anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.
Bless us with humility, open to understanding that our own needs as a nation must always be balanced with those of the world.
Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance, replacing it with a genuine respect and warm embrace of our differences.
Bless us with compassion and generosity, remembering that every religion's God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable.
And God, we give you thanks for your child, Barack, as he assumes the office of President of the United States.
Give him wisdom beyond his years, inspire him with President Lincoln's reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy's ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King's dream of a nation for all people.
Give him a quiet heart, for our ship of state needs a steady, calm captain.
Give him stirring words; We will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.
Make him color-blind, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.
Help him remember his own oppression as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.
Give him strength to find family time and privacy, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters' childhoods.
And please, God, keep him safe. We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we're asking far too much of this one. We implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe. Hold him in the palm of your hand, that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity, and peace. Amen."
There's also video of it on YouTube, if you want to see it in person.Thursday, January 15, 2009
Same Diff: An Elijalogue
When asked what instrument his god-sister will play in the rock band they are going to have (he will be on drums, natch):
"Oh, flute or trumpet or banjo or something like that."
"Oh, flute or trumpet or banjo or something like that."
Many are called
I'm loving this conversation over at Reflectionary. I started to comment, but it got A Little Out of Hand, so I am just going ahead and making it just a post.
I was raised, Songbird, in the tradition you are in now. So there was no expectation of a moment of conversion, more an expectation of a lifetime of questioning, seeking, wonder.
Now I wonder, at this time in my life, still in that same tradition, if you can have BOTH a moment of conversion AND a constant turning toward?
Because I DID have a moment of conversion, which was not a dramatic one externally, but a radical internal shift/transformation. I was in a conversation with a spiritual director in which I expressed doubt, and she said something so simple "You have one foot on the dock and one foot in the boat. Just get in the boat." And then I (as she said) "got in the boat" and that was it. I have had lots of ups and downs since then, but never doubted, never questioned if there actually IS One who is holding us all, which had been real source of grief and frustration for me until then.
On the other hand, I'm not saying this HAS to happen for every Christian! Only that it was as real for me as my everyday everyday everyday waking up and saying "ok, God. help me do it the way you would want today, whatever it is."
Both the moment of conversation and the daily juggling routine took/take effort. Both are grace.
So far, there isn't much conversation in the comments about another theme of the post, which is the underlying tension of calls to ministry/motherhood (or fill in the blank where motherhood is to be whatever your Other Call is). I think about and pray about that tension in my own life all the time. Could I be a Rock Star Pastor by now if I had not married a disabled person, had a baby, etc? Perhaps. But is Rock Stardom really what God wants from me? I dont think so. Because this constant tension is what makes my call really authentic. I am always trying to practice what I'm always trying to preach - that God wants our WHOLE lives. That EVERYTHING can be a prayer, can be in service to God, can be for the creation of the realm to come.
So that my soothing a 6 year old (and I"m doing LOTS of that lately) is as important and as much an answer to the call as writing a sermon. When I'm able to remember that, I'm just so grateful that I get to do both.
I was raised, Songbird, in the tradition you are in now. So there was no expectation of a moment of conversion, more an expectation of a lifetime of questioning, seeking, wonder.
Now I wonder, at this time in my life, still in that same tradition, if you can have BOTH a moment of conversion AND a constant turning toward?
Because I DID have a moment of conversion, which was not a dramatic one externally, but a radical internal shift/transformation. I was in a conversation with a spiritual director in which I expressed doubt, and she said something so simple "You have one foot on the dock and one foot in the boat. Just get in the boat." And then I (as she said) "got in the boat" and that was it. I have had lots of ups and downs since then, but never doubted, never questioned if there actually IS One who is holding us all, which had been real source of grief and frustration for me until then.
On the other hand, I'm not saying this HAS to happen for every Christian! Only that it was as real for me as my everyday everyday everyday waking up and saying "ok, God. help me do it the way you would want today, whatever it is."
Both the moment of conversation and the daily juggling routine took/take effort. Both are grace.
So far, there isn't much conversation in the comments about another theme of the post, which is the underlying tension of calls to ministry/motherhood (or fill in the blank where motherhood is to be whatever your Other Call is). I think about and pray about that tension in my own life all the time. Could I be a Rock Star Pastor by now if I had not married a disabled person, had a baby, etc? Perhaps. But is Rock Stardom really what God wants from me? I dont think so. Because this constant tension is what makes my call really authentic. I am always trying to practice what I'm always trying to preach - that God wants our WHOLE lives. That EVERYTHING can be a prayer, can be in service to God, can be for the creation of the realm to come.
So that my soothing a 6 year old (and I"m doing LOTS of that lately) is as important and as much an answer to the call as writing a sermon. When I'm able to remember that, I'm just so grateful that I get to do both.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Looking back over the past three weeks.
At this time of year, we usually look back over the year that has passed, perhaps mentioning high and low points as we anticipate the year to come. How about we keep it simple and take a nostalgic look back over the last three weeks instead? Here are some extremely random bullets of what's been going on at Casa Juniper.
Although we know it is not The True Meaning of Christmas, E totally scored in the present department this year. Here he is with the best one: drum set from Grandma. Yeah, grandma! He like to try and play along with Obvious Child. Not easy for your first gig. He's jumping in with both feet. Also, a Lego Star Wars Video Game (how many layers removed from reality is that? I lose track) that he loves and a head lamp that he would like to wear all the time. I had to draw the line at wearing it in the car. That little light in the rearview mirror is killer.
Speaking of the True Meaning of Christmas: the Christmas season in general = very weird. Because snow kept falling, we kept rescheduling and cancelling things at church, which took a surprising amount of energy and was sadder than you'd think.
Speaking of sad: However, the opposite of sad was lots of time at the sledding hill (which was all joyous and extreme fun, except for that one walk home where I actually told a cold cold wet wet child that I "WOULD ask for a ride home, but you are being so whiny that I'm embarrassed." Yikes. Who is THAT lady?).
Speaking of interactions with our children that we would actually like to remember: the little Methodist church across the street had a Christmas Eve service, so we got to go and hear the scriptures, and sing the songs and I reflected (not for the first time) that with a story that good, really no-one needs to preach on Christmas Eve. (Ignore this if you love the Christmas Eve sermon, but if you hate it, go ahead and add a couple of carols instead next year. Everyone will thank you for it.) Anyway, getting to hold my boy on my lap while we lit our candles and sang Silent Night was totally sweet, and I treasured it.
Speaking of things we treasure: If there's anything cuter than a 6 year old telling you he has a "twick up my sweeve" and that twick turns out to be secretly reading after lights out by the light of the nightlight, I ask you to show it to me.
Speaking of cute family members: As a reminder that I am known and loved just as I am, Mr. Juniper sent me this quote, cause he knows I'm nerdy like that:
The Cavanagh Company of Greenville, Rhode Island makes about 80% of the communion wafers used by several Christian churches in the US. Some customers say the Cavanaghs have such a big market share because their product is about as close to perfect as earthly possible. "It doesn't crumb, and I don't like fragments of our Lord scattering all over the floor," said the Rev. Bob Dietel, an Episcopal priest.
Speaking of scattering fragments of things: someday I know it will be a hilarious story how, running out of the house but worried that our slippery front walk would jeopardize the present-getting, I quickly dumped a lot of what I thought was grass seed from a half open bag I found in the shed, but it turned out to be fertilizer (read "poo"), so then I thought I'd fix it, which I did by dumping some cat litter on it we had left over from the Great Cat Experiment, but I grabbed the nasty scented stuff by accident, so then whenever anyone entered our house for the next three days they had to basically walk over 8 feet of used cat box, until I scraped it all away. One day that will definately be a great story, but I'm just not ready to laugh about it yet.
Speaking of great stories: I got a call from the Ibot company that stopped my breath briefly when they said they are going out of business. But luckily, we are in line to receive one still, if we can get it ordered in time, which is the end of January. We are one step closer to that, because for a Christmas present we got a letter from our insurer saying they would actually pay for it, which, as it is violation of their policy to pay for this kind of technology, we did not expect at all. But keep your fingers crossed for us, if that is your spiritual practice. A few more paperwork hurdles still need jumping.
Speaking of things that come in the mail: We did not receive hardly anything we had ordered by Christmas day (our friend who works at UPS says stuff was coming in and they were just stacking it up in a corner and delivering to businesses only during all the snow the week of Christmas), and our tree looked very sad indeed. So Santa, with whom, as you know, I have a very love/hate relationship TOTALLY saved us. We ended up writing lots of little notes from Santa about how the sleigh kept getting stuck in snow, yadda yadda yadda and that's why he (E) would not be receving a drum set TODAY, but that he (Santa) was keeping an eye on things and would make sure that everything arrived in the due course of time. Which E actually really liked, and he ended up reading those little letters several times throughout the day on Christmas. So, thanks, Santa. We owe you one.
Speaking of gratitude: Life is so very sweet. Not making any resolutions, unless it's one to notice that more often.
Although we know it is not The True Meaning of Christmas, E totally scored in the present department this year. Here he is with the best one: drum set from Grandma. Yeah, grandma! He like to try and play along with Obvious Child. Not easy for your first gig. He's jumping in with both feet. Also, a Lego Star Wars Video Game (how many layers removed from reality is that? I lose track) that he loves and a head lamp that he would like to wear all the time. I had to draw the line at wearing it in the car. That little light in the rearview mirror is killer.
Speaking of the True Meaning of Christmas: the Christmas season in general = very weird. Because snow kept falling, we kept rescheduling and cancelling things at church, which took a surprising amount of energy and was sadder than you'd think.
Speaking of sad: However, the opposite of sad was lots of time at the sledding hill (which was all joyous and extreme fun, except for that one walk home where I actually told a cold cold wet wet child that I "WOULD ask for a ride home, but you are being so whiny that I'm embarrassed." Yikes. Who is THAT lady?).
Speaking of interactions with our children that we would actually like to remember: the little Methodist church across the street had a Christmas Eve service, so we got to go and hear the scriptures, and sing the songs and I reflected (not for the first time) that with a story that good, really no-one needs to preach on Christmas Eve. (Ignore this if you love the Christmas Eve sermon, but if you hate it, go ahead and add a couple of carols instead next year. Everyone will thank you for it.) Anyway, getting to hold my boy on my lap while we lit our candles and sang Silent Night was totally sweet, and I treasured it.
Speaking of things we treasure: If there's anything cuter than a 6 year old telling you he has a "twick up my sweeve" and that twick turns out to be secretly reading after lights out by the light of the nightlight, I ask you to show it to me.
Speaking of cute family members: As a reminder that I am known and loved just as I am, Mr. Juniper sent me this quote, cause he knows I'm nerdy like that:
The Cavanagh Company of Greenville, Rhode Island makes about 80% of the communion wafers used by several Christian churches in the US. Some customers say the Cavanaghs have such a big market share because their product is about as close to perfect as earthly possible. "It doesn't crumb, and I don't like fragments of our Lord scattering all over the floor," said the Rev. Bob Dietel, an Episcopal priest.
Speaking of scattering fragments of things: someday I know it will be a hilarious story how, running out of the house but worried that our slippery front walk would jeopardize the present-getting, I quickly dumped a lot of what I thought was grass seed from a half open bag I found in the shed, but it turned out to be fertilizer (read "poo"), so then I thought I'd fix it, which I did by dumping some cat litter on it we had left over from the Great Cat Experiment, but I grabbed the nasty scented stuff by accident, so then whenever anyone entered our house for the next three days they had to basically walk over 8 feet of used cat box, until I scraped it all away. One day that will definately be a great story, but I'm just not ready to laugh about it yet.
Speaking of great stories: I got a call from the Ibot company that stopped my breath briefly when they said they are going out of business. But luckily, we are in line to receive one still, if we can get it ordered in time, which is the end of January. We are one step closer to that, because for a Christmas present we got a letter from our insurer saying they would actually pay for it, which, as it is violation of their policy to pay for this kind of technology, we did not expect at all. But keep your fingers crossed for us, if that is your spiritual practice. A few more paperwork hurdles still need jumping.
Speaking of things that come in the mail: We did not receive hardly anything we had ordered by Christmas day (our friend who works at UPS says stuff was coming in and they were just stacking it up in a corner and delivering to businesses only during all the snow the week of Christmas), and our tree looked very sad indeed. So Santa, with whom, as you know, I have a very love/hate relationship TOTALLY saved us. We ended up writing lots of little notes from Santa about how the sleigh kept getting stuck in snow, yadda yadda yadda and that's why he (E) would not be receving a drum set TODAY, but that he (Santa) was keeping an eye on things and would make sure that everything arrived in the due course of time. Which E actually really liked, and he ended up reading those little letters several times throughout the day on Christmas. So, thanks, Santa. We owe you one.
Speaking of gratitude: Life is so very sweet. Not making any resolutions, unless it's one to notice that more often.
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