A Good Year

Can a year be evaluated? Can we really look back on a period of time and call it good or bad?

This year has been bumpy with family and friends taking ill or passing away. Our little family has certainly had its share of trials as we work out what it means to be married, to be parents, to live as a family.

I am grateful for how extensively we were able to travel-- Alan, Lucy and I have seen the majesty of the Pacific Ocean and the balmy beaches of the Florida Gulf, and family in New Jersey and Washington. We've had a parade of relatives come through our home in Kentucky as well.

And we've produced so much! Hundreds of meals, repairs to our car and appliances, socks and hats and mittens, school papers, soap, cheese. We were fortunate to participate in the growing of a garden and share child care with generous friends. We've studied out catechism, fleshed out our theology, taken the time to contemplate the mysteries of God.

Alan and I have had so much time together, to really have fun and grow closer together. I've never had a better friend than my husband, who is my closest companion and trusted confidant. To see him complete another two semesters of school and to raise our daughter together made this year one to cherish regardless of other circumstances.

Despite a world full of turmoil and the bad economy, for the most part its like we've been resting on a little island of peace. I think if nothing else I end this year knowing God still has me clutched tightly in the palm of His hand.

Happy New Year!

* * * * * * *

Alice sighed wearily. `I think you might do something better with the time' she said, `than waste it in asking riddles that have no answers.'

`If you knew Time as well as I do,' said the Hatter, `you wouldn't talk about wasting IT. It's HIM.'

`I don't know what you mean,' said Alice.

`Of course you don't!' the Hatter said, tossing his head contemptuously. `I dare say you never even spoke to Time!'

`Perhaps not,' Alice cautiously replied: `but I know I have to beat time when I learn music.'

`Ah! that accounts for it,' said the Hatter. `He won't stand beating. Now, if you only kept on good terms with him, he'd do almost anything you liked with the clock. For instance, suppose it were nine o'clock in the morning, just time to begin lessons: you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling! Half-past one, time for dinner!'

The Cheese Stands Alone

Remember? The farmer in the dell? "Hi ho the diary-o, the cheese stands alone..." Oh never mind.

Anyway, I've taken a little venture into cheese making in the last months. Nothing fancy, just a bit of paneer. Kroger always puts organic milk on manager's special for $2.09 a gallon, the only trick is the expiration date is usually that day. So here's what I've been doing:

1) Bring the gallon of milk to a boil over medium high heat. Stir to keep from scalding. Add a 1/4 cup of vinegar as soon as it boils. Stir.

2) Remove from heat. Wait 30 seconds or so for the curds and the greenish whey to separate (one look in the pot and you'll realize little Miss Muffet had odd tastes).

3) Line a colander with a fine cloth (I use muslin) and place over a large bowl or pot (I save the whey). Strain the hot curds mixture into the colander. Let cool until you can handle it safely.

4) Bundle up cloth and squeeze out excess moisture. Place bundle on a surface like a cutting board and put a heavy something on top (I use a pot full of water). This squeezes out the excess whey over the next few hours.

5) Unbundle and... tada! Homemade cheese. Use the paneer in Indian dishes or whatever you like. Put it in the fridge for a few days or the freezer for a few months.

But wait! What about the whey, you say?

Well you can let that sit 12 to 24 hours in a pot. When you're ready, heat it on medium heat till it is just shy of a boil. You'll see fluffy curds rising to the top. Cover the pot, remove from heat, and let cool a little bit. Skim the curds off, straining as you did for the paneer if some sink to the bottom, and you have ricotta (pronounced ri-GOUGHT-ta, by the way). Like the paneer it can be kept in the fridge or frozen in a sealed container.

Not bad for a little over $2.

Merry Christmas

The days go by and life seems very unenchanted. Car exhaust, crabby people, the same four songs on the radio, bad weather, hard times... the large things and the small often add up, in my case, and take away any sense of magic or mystery.

And then Christmas time comes along, once again, and I pause to remember the wonder of the incarnation. I think of the time when (to quote a famous someone) the whole universe fit inside a manger. And I'm reminded that the world is still God's and because of this all things-- the good, the bad, the frightening, the peaceful-- are enchanted. The world is still alive with God's strange grace and mysterious love.

I hope you all find time to meditate on the wonders of the life of Christ this season. Merry Christmas!

I know we've come a long way

So sad that all these years later Cat Stevens' words still ring true. This week I've had my fill of big business, the inefficacy of our government, hippies who love animals and hate kids, soldiers who love their SUVs, and all pursuers of liberal democracy. So this song goes out to all the aforementioned dastardly people out there. Happy Holidays.

"Well I think it's fine, building jumbo planes.
Or taking a ride on a cosmic train.
Switch on summer from a slot machine.
Yes, get what you want to if you want, 'cause you can get anything.

I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play?

Well you roll on roads over fresh green grass.
For your lorry loads pumping petrol gas.
And you make them long, and you make them tough.
But they just go on and on, and it seems that you can't get off.

Well you've cracked the sky, scrapers fill the air.
But will you keep on building higher
'til there's no more room up there?
Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die?

I know we've come a long way,
We're changing day to day,
But tell me, where do the children play"

Let's Talk About Sex

I recently got into an argument with a friend about birth control. I take a biblical stance on birth control, believing natural methods are best for protecting life in all its stages. Contrary to my friend's belief about me and several former classmates, we do not agree with the "rhythm method"-- there is a big difference between preventing pregnancy by knowing which days you are fertile and guessing about which weeks you might be fertile! Her own family is a testament to true natural family planning, 6 kids spaced perfectly, just as her parents wanted them to be.

The number one comment I get from other women in discussing NFP? "That's not healthy for a marriage." They go on to tell me about how it is not healthy for married people to choose between not having sex for a week or so and having another baby. Couples should be able to have sex whenever they want.

Since when did unlimited sexual freedom rule Christian marriage?!

I'm all for Christians having robust, full love lives-- I think it both reflects and edifies a couples relationship and should be an act that is both meaningful and fun. But if the idea of having a period of chastity that lasts a matter of days is so inconceivable, I think we've fallen off the path to truth in our marriages.

It certainly reveals that we are a people who have lost our sense of cycles of time. I think there is beauty to be found in learning to control your body and passions, even as a married person. Paul talks about taking time away from sex for prayer and focusing on God. Sometimes life throws obstacles at us that force us into a time of abstinence-- illness, grief, physical separation, the eventual death of our spouse. What a blessing, in these times, if we've already practiced the discipline of chastity. And the other three weeks of the month... well, those are even better!

To disagree with my friend again, I am not casting fundamentalist judgment on her and the world! I do wish more Christian couples would sit down to consider these things, to talk about sex. And please visit the links to read up on NFP from people who are much smarter and eloquent than myself. Thanks for enduring this post :)

An NFP blog

"Contraception Misconceptions"

"It's time to talk honestly.." (a look at the difficulties of NFP)

Canidates and Catechumen

"I saw a host of silent angels waiting on their own, knowing that all the promises of faith come alive when you see home." -Jars of Clay

Today, Alan and I officially began the rite of initiation into the Catholic Church. Though RCIA classes begin in the Fall, Advent is the time of formal invitation for those in RCIA who wish to join the Church at Easter.

Alan is a catechumen as his baptism was not keeping with the biblical mandate to baptize in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit (Matthew 28:19)—anyone who has not been baptized is a catechumen. I have been baptized twice, as a baby in an Episcopal church and as a teenager in a Wesleyan church, so I am a candidate.

It was a simple ceremony. Father Bush called the candidates and catechumens up front during mass, asked us about our expectations about becoming Catholic, then he and Deacon Burns and our sponsors administered the sign of the cross to all of us in turn. Lucy, of course, started hollering when we were up there; thankfully our friends Pamm and Robin helped to keep her quiet. The altar was adorned with the pretty purple cloths of the Advent season so it all felt very festive.

I am very excited about this time in our lives. This is a singular experience and I hope Alan and I take full advantage of it. My whole Christian life I’ve felt an awful incongruence with many of the practices and theology I was taught. I thought I was being a bad Christian by believing in the redemption of once pagan things, Jesus' presence in the bread and wine of communion, the holiness of Mary, a purgation after death, and the communion of Saints… but I guess I was just being a good Catholic!

This is akin to being raised by an aunt and finally returning home to mom. While an aunt can be loving, kind, wise, and somewhat like your mother, nothing can replace the relationship you have with your mother who loves you. While I am forever indebted to the Protestant church who brought me into the fold and faithfully instructed me in the ways of God, it feels good to be heading home.

Feminism.. again!

Good job Alex and Stephen for guessing the weird title reference. I love the Beatles.

I'm just going to keep writing about these issues in Christian feminism regardless of who is reading-- maybe I will eventually stumble on an answer to my questions by doing so, or maybe a faithful reader will.

Anyway, I was reading an article by Elizabeth Fox-Genovese about Catholicism and Feminism, how the two do not need to be mutually exclusive. I appreciate EFG for holding onto philosophical feminism while exploring more of what I call civil feminism.

I find myself caught in the middle of these two camps: I disagree with the view of freedom taken up by civil feminism (freedom as it pertains to all people, not just women, a "freedom from..." rather than a "freedom to..."). They are mostly existentialists. But I do empathize with issues like equal pay, preserving the dignity of women in the workplace, passing better legislation regarding sexual violence and discrimination, providing assistance for single mothers.

Philosophical feminism has my heart-- I want to plumb the depths of the female mind and soul for answers as to our particular view of reality, explore history to uncover and uproot the ugly beginnings of sexism, to help create a feminine voice and logic. But I want to see these ideas passed on to the women of the Church in a very real and practical way, to have feminist philosophy mean something in the lives of all women.

Alan loves Hans Urs Von Balthasar. I must admit, most of his work goes over my head. I understood clearly, however, the dichotomy he sets up between the sexes (as addressed in EFG's article). He calls women the answer to the question of man, femaleness this reflection of what maleness is and isn't. Many Von Batlthsar followers are dismayed by this analogy as well. It wounds so deeply to see yourself described as something as fleeting as an answer.

So much of what I've read from Christian authors and scholars views women as receptacles, servants, receivers, derivative, existentially dependant on men, weak, material rather than divine, like the Church rather than like Christ, bodily rather than spiritual, emotional instead of rational. Men reading, please take a moment to think of what it would be like to be referred to this way your whole life, so be constantly told you are destined to be second to the other gender. Doesn't produce the most positive outlook on reality!

I hope God uses me in some way to restore women's identity, to start seeing ourselves as people who can reflect the image of Christ as well as any man.

Its beautiful, and so are you

I spent hours at the UK dental clinic today, waiting to be seen. This afforded me some time to dig into Sister Prudence Allen's "The Concept of Woman" Vol. II.

Sr. Prudence is an amazing scholar, a holy and wise woman. I realized reading books like Ortlund's will only make me feel hopeless and nutty, so I tucked into an afternoon of a positive view of female identity.

Allen argues for a gender complementarity (I promise, I cannot do her ideas justice). She takes seriously the exhortation of Pope John Paul II to bring the feminine genius into the spotlight of the Church. A gender complementarity views females and males as created equally in intellectual, emotional, and spiritual capacity.

There are some differences that men and women embody (i.e. God has made women to be mothers). But this does not limit these characteristics to the gender that embodies them: men behave as mothers when they birth new ideas, nurture through discipleship, and allow God to conceive a renewed spirit within them. While being male or female is pretty black and white, both genders can participate in the others' defining characteristics.

I think a lot of the pop culture kind of books I've read about Christian women believe that the difference between men and women lies within the soul in this way: if the human person is a combination of emotion, intellect, will, reason, spirit, and so on, then women are people who are lead more by their emotions than reason, men are creatures of will rather than emotion, etc. Yet this does not fit with the picture of a holy person who is balanced in all things. I agree with Plato that a soul that has one attribute bigger than another is not beautiful.

So... if a woman was sanctified, hence balanced in her soul, she would lose her femininity! And this cannot be. So you cannot say that a woman is a creature led by emotion more than reason unless you want to say we can shed our gender or that women cannot be fully holy people. In other words, gender by this definition means an engendered soul is an ugly one.

Just my thoughts on the reading I did today. (Can anyone guess why I titled this post the way I did? Brownie points for the person who gets it).

We Are Women

A friend recently turned my attention to the books written by main stream protestants about women, femininity, what is sometimes referred to as "biblical womanhood." So I picked up a few books from the seminary library and have been picking through them in my spare time.

The one book, "Fearlessly Feminine" by Jani Ortlund, starts off by asking "What does it mean to be a woman and not a man?" She then quotes John Piper's definition of femininity:

"At the heart of femininity is a freeing disposition to affirm, recieve, and nurture strength and leadership from worthy men in ways appropriate to a woman's differing relationships."

I don't want to think about it, but it seems as though Ortlund is making the mistake many women make, Christian or otherwise, by seeing femaleness as opposed to maleness; to conceive of gender as though maleness defines what gender is and femaleness is some distortion of it. And for Piper to say that the heart of femininity is to exhort men in their roles as leaders... well I think that makes women out to be receptacles of maleness rather than having a gender all our own.

Defining ourselves in the negative is degrading. I am much more than "not a man," as were my foremothers in the faith (my spell checker won't even recognize the word "foremother"-- even the computer's sexist!) Women and men together reflect the very person of God, so much so that when we get close enough we make a new life. Rather than seeing femininity as only a contrast to what is masculine, a receiver of what is masculine, I wish women in the Church would start to embrace being female as being a person that reflects the image of God. Ms. Ortlund, if you're out there in blog land: we are more than "not men," we are women.

More to come as I read further.

"The basic discovery about any people is the discovery of the relationship between its men and its women." -Pearl Buck

From My Inner Vegetarian

Here is a little something I threw together tonight from what I had in the fridge:

Herbivorous Burgers

Heat olive oil in a skillet. Add two giant portabello mushroom caps, sliced in half. Season with pepper, a little season salt, paprika, and chili powder. Cook over medium high heat, turning as needed, until dark yet still juicy.

In the meantime, mix a 1/4 cup mayo with dijon mustard, garlic powder, and parsley to taste.

Assemble cooked burger on a toasted bun with mayo mix, alfalfa sprouts, and feta cheese. Serve with fries and greek olives. Makes four small burgers.

I don't know, maybe this isn't everyone's thing. But I love a vegetarian meal that still tastes a little like meat. And the whole thing took about 15 minutes to make. AND I bought everything on manager's special :) Best quick meal I've had in a long time.

Me and My Maytag

(Warning: this blog is technical and boring, I barely enjoyed writing it, but felt it necessary to educate anyone with a broken Maytag poking around the internet).

On Friday afternoon Alan said the washing machine was acting weird. It smelled awful and we realized it wasn't draining water. We took out the half-clean diapers we were washing, bailed out the tub, and tilted it back to see what was going on. Turns out the belt that runs from the motor to the water pump had snapped off (the belts on a Maytag, for anyone out there having trouble, are located on the bottom of the machine; just tilt it up and have a look).

We noted the numbers on the broken belt and called up Lowe's, Home Depot... no luck, they don't sell replacement parts. We called it quits for the night and the three of us drove to Red Robin for a late dinner. Lucy had a great time eating grilled cheese and mooching chocolate shake off of me.

The next day I called around but no appliance stores were open. The young guy at Ace Hardware said they sold universal belts that should fit the Maytag. I measured the broken belt at 39", then thought better and looked up on a replacement parts site how long it was supposed to be (41"). I bought the belt at Ace for $8 compared to $16 for an official Maytag belt.

Got it home, put it on. Started the machine and the whole thing locked up! I was so mad and figured the belt was no good.

After sitting on it for a day I had a thought: maybe it wasn't the belt but the pulley attached to the pump. So I reached under and sure enough, the pump pulley wouldn't turn. We consulted our dads about the feasibility of fixing the pump ourselves. The consensus was that it is easy for coins and such to get stuck in the pump. If I had to replace it I'd have to take it off anyway so we went to it. (We removed it easily by detaching both hoses with a bucket handy, then unscrewing the pump from the bottom of the machine).

And there it was, a baby wipe stuck in the propeller. With a crochet hook and some ingenuity I dislodged it, we reattached the pump, hooked up the hoses, replaced the belt and tada! it worked!

So for $8 and 3 days of mental aggravation (and a hurt back from hauling the washing machine around) we fixed the Maytag. Anyone who is facing a problem with their washing machine, I encourage you to figure it out for yourself before calling a repair man. You really only need a screwdriver, wrench, and a little patience.

Dad

My Dad's birthday is coming up soon, so I thought I'd write a little homage to the old man.

The best part about my Dad is that he was always around. Even though he worked long hours, and we never saw him in the mornings because he often got up for work around 4am, he was always home for dinner. He'd tell us stories about his day and warn us about the hassles of life as we ate together.

When I was little, Dad was a smoker and a big time coffee drinker. His truck always smelled like coffee and cigarettes and saw dust (I will always think of my father when I smell fresh cut wood). For a number of years Dad stayed with my sister and I while our Mom worked some evenings and weekends. We'd ride around in his truck, listening to music, sorting through the piles of hardware or playing with the cup of change he kept. Dad would explain the history of the songs we heard, where he saw the band in concert or how they influenced the whole of music.

For a man intent on imparting all wisdom he possessed to his kids, Dad was also fun to be around. He'd blow smoke rings for us, tell us the ways he got in trouble as a kid himself, let us act like lunatics when Mom wasn't home. He was the kind of man to say "do whatever you want!" when we'd ask him if we could slide around in our socks on the old wood floors and then kindly remove the splinters we got from doing so.

My Dad strives to be holy, to be generous, to delve into the depths of thought without losing his sense of humor. He is sentimental without being a push over. I've always known how much my father loves my mother, teaching me to find a man who respects me and enjoys my company. Dad would pointedly defend us against people who asked him "Don't you want a son?" by telling them "No! I like having two daughters."

When I was looking for a bride/father dance song for my wedding I just couldn't give into any of the sappy songs-- they didn't fit our relationship as a father and daughter. I picked "So Happy Together" by the Turtles because it reminded me of the warmth and love Dad showed me.

My sister and I weren't treated like princesses as I think my father found that rather disempowering. Instead he tried to raise us to be well-read, analytical, idealistic, and faithful. Despite the many differences my father and I sometimes have, I can't thank him enough for being present, loving God, and treating me like a person worth knowing.

Community...?

After our first summer in Wilmore, Alan and I fell into a group of friends. There were three other couples we met with each Saturday night to eat, talk, and unwind from the week. More families joined us, our numbers soon swelling to over 2 dozen adults and kids.

Last evening, as we gathered together for yet another Saturday evening, our friend Amberly sat us down for a talk. After thanking us all for helping her and her family through hard times, and asking forgiveness for any deficit in her friendship to us, Amberly called our attention to the nature of our relationship as a group. Something, she feels, is missing from our time together.

She mentioned that, for people who are part of the Church, we don't always look like a worshipping body. Our friend Kat talked about being transparent but maybe missing out on being vulnerable with one another. Chad described our time together as beautifully mundane.

I won't pretend I heard where everyone was coming from-- understanding other people, I realize, takes a lot of time and hearing them out. But I sensed that all who put in their thoughts were wondering if we couldn't show some solidarity, with each other and with the Lord, when we came together on Saturdays. And maybe a simple something of this nature could produce the community we are all groping around in the dark for.

My own experience with Saturday nights has been quite rocky for some time. As my own life has become filled to the top with obligations and things to sort out, the idea of seeing everyone on Saturdays is sometimes exhausting. To make small talk when something is heavy on my heart is not my forte; yet I have no desire to tell people one by one "Oh yeah, well, my life is going haywire right now so I'd rather just sit here and say nothing, thank you" -- who wants to be the one to rain on everyone's parade?

I'm often reminded of the words of a girl I knew in college. After asking me if I was okay, and hearing me respond with saying I was struggling to keep my head above water, she replied with "Well I just want to have fun!" I'm often nervous of hearing that if I confess my heart to my friends here. It is strange to know a group of people I trust with my life but not with my feelings! And for that I take full responsibilty, for what kind of community can I expect if I don't stick my neck out?

For the sake of space I will finish with this: We should start doing something. I heard recitation of prayer thrown out there, singing a few worship songs, sitting down to update everyone on what's going on in our lives. I'm on board for any of that.

To any of our group reading, I love you all deeply and hope we can find solidarity soon.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." -Margaret Mead

Not Quite an Irish Blessing

"So shines a good deed in a weary world." William Shakespeare

"But I can no longer content myself with what most people say, or with what is found in books. I must think over things for myself and get to understand them." Nora in Ibsen's Dollhouse

"A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men." Willy Wonka

"I'm such a girl for the living room. I really like to stay in my nest and not move. I travel in my mind, and that's a rigorous state of journeying for me. My body isn't that interested in moving from place to place." bell hooks


Here's to family willing to traverse the miles to visit,
to children in their second year of life,
to the cake and coffee consumed in our home these weeks,
to those who love us who are sights for sore eyes,
to cousins,
to the work that lays ahead of me,
to the sweetness of being in love--
may God bless those that take heart in Him,
convict those that take themselves seriously,
and keep knitting up our persons into something worth wearing.

Some Retrospection

"All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray
I've been for a walk on a winter's day
I'd be safe and warm if I was in LA
California dreamin on such a winter's day."
-The Mamas and the Papas

Five years ago I was in New York, hating the Fall. I just couldn't bear the thought of another icy winter (the one before had been pretty nasty, lasting well into April). So I spent my times listening to the Mamas and the Papas and doing a little California dreaming myself. As a Junior in college I was looking at an MA program somewhere-- anywhere-- in California. Thoughts of spending a few years studying in the sun were enough to get me through a very trying and cold semester.

Little did I know that the love of my life was just around the corner, literally a 2 minute walk from where I lived all Fall. Finding the person you want to be with your whole life changes a lot.

Suddenly New York didn't seem so cold and California didn't seem so important.

The point is, that Fall I had a very definite plan about what to do with my life. This isn't it. But it is so much better. Sometimes we make plans and they go smoothly. Personally, I find the best things in life are those that come by God's grace alone: unexpected love, unexpected babies, unexpected friends. For all the bumps in the road, the last five years have been golden.

Trip to Florida - Part III

We'd heard plenty about Ave Maria being in the middle of nowhere-- those saying this have obviously never been anywhere in the Appalachians! Yes, the town of Ave Maria was down a road without stores, and the nearest gas station is a good 15 minutes away, but we didn't find it to be as isolated as we expected.

The school and a shot of the homes surrounding the plaza

So Alan did all his official business at the school while Lucy and I drove around, walked through the "piazza" and shared a smoothie. I'm not much for places that are big and new, and those were the first words that came to mind as I poked around. Still, everyone was very friendly and I especially enjoyed visiting with one of the faculty members and his family.

Sunset in Naples

I just had to go the beach, so we caught the sun setting into the gulf. It was lovely. Then we ate a nice dinner, I reveled in all the North Eastern accents around us, and we turned in.

The next day Lucy and I went to the beach at Sanibel Island. What fun! You have to drive across a causeway to get there. We had a great view of the water and the mainland. Lucy had a great time digging in the sand, picking up shells, and pointing at all the birds. I haven't been to such a pristine beach in the US in all my life (Virgin Islands excluded).

My little Kentucky baby, loving the beach

By the time the afternoon rolled around we were all ready to head home. We didn't make it past Gainesville before needing to rest for the night, then sped home the next day (it was a very long drive).

It was really a perfect trip.

Trip to Florida - Part II

Epcot was more of the same: taking Lucy on rides, switching off for the big thrills, and eating good food. I hadn't been on Mission Space (a NASA ride) or Soarin' (an IMAX hang gliding extravaganza). Soarin' was amazing-- I felt like I was flying.

Lucy was very afraid of the Figment ride. Her favorite? Living With the Land, an educational trip through agricultural practices in America. I think it was the animatronic prairie dogs and buffalo that won her over. She yelled at some hydroponic sweet potatoes they were growing, and I assured her we still did not believe in genetic modification :)

In front of a samurai statue after a dinner of sushi, sukiyaki, and teriyaki

We dined in Morocco and Japan for lunch and dinner, and we weathered an afternoon rainstorm. Even though he got sick on the NASA ride, Alan enjoyed Test Track and Spaceship Earth. Lucy got to meet Minnie, I got to peruse the shops in the World Showcase, and we thankfully skipped the movies about Canada and Norway (sorry guys).

Me and Lucy and 2 giant balls of yarn from New Zealand

Leaving the next morning was a bit of a letdown-- as a kid we would stay in Disney World for so long I'd feel glutted on the place by the time we left. Still, we were anxious to get to Ave Maria, to see the gulf coast, and see if Florida was a place worth living in.

Trip to Florida - Part I

"Let love shine
And we will find
A way to come together
And make things better
We need a holiday." - Madonna

What a great vacation! We drove through Eastern Kentucky and Tennessee, listening to the VP debates to keep us awake, and stopped in Chattanooga for the night (I must have sang the chorus to "Chattanooga Choo Choo" a hundred times). We loved Georgia's scenery and laughed at all the billboards for peaches, pecans, and fireworks. Lucy held up well even though the poor baby lived on teething biscuits and crackers for most of the drive.

Stopping for a bite in Tennessee

By Friday evening we were in Orlando. Hotwire actually came through: our $35 a night hotel room was great, the hotel rather lavish with several pools. We got dressed up only to eat at Shoney's (don't laugh!). Alan watched baseball, Lucy slept soundly in the pack 'n' play, and I woke up every half hour, too excited to sleep (remember the old Disney commercials?).

After Its a Small World, Lucy's favorite at the MK

The next day was fantastic. We hit the Magic Kingdom, only 2 miles from our hotel. We arrived just in time to see Mickey and friends open the park with all the Disney fanfare. Alan and I rode the 3 mountains (Splash, Space, and Big Thunder) and took Lucy on Pirates of the Caribbean and Its a Small World.

Lucy was great-- she slept on the slow rides, pointed on at all the animatronics, didn't flip out in the Haunted Mansions, and stayed in her stroller most of the day without complaint. She insisted on shouting "doe doe" at the dog in the Carousel of Progress, but other than that took all the excitement pretty calmly.

The barbershop quartet didn't show up, but at least Alan got his hair trimmed

We ate good food, people watched a little, and enjoyed the mosaic in Cinderella's Castle. Alan even got an old school haircut on Main Street USA. At 7pm the park was closing for most guests (they were having a Halloween party for those who paid extra) and I did not want to leave. I think I even scowled a little at the kids in costumes who were walking in as we were going out. So it was back to the hotel room for some sleep before our day at Epcot.

From Harry Nilsson

I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Thru' the pouring rain,
Going where the weather suits my clothes,
Backing off of the North East wind,
Sailing on summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone.

We still don't know what this means, but we love it when Lucy does it just the same.

Lucy wearing her shoes for the first time.

"Children require guidance and sympathy far more than instruction." -Anne Sullivan

Vacation - Part I

For all my rage against commercialism, I am a sucker for Disney World. I love it! So when Alan said he absolutely had to visit a school down in Florida I thought "What the heck, we can go to Disney too."

Our first official family vacation is only 10 days away from commencing. A car trip, seeing a theme park, hitting the beach... it will be a mish mosh of all my favorite ways to spend a getaway.

It is not as though Alan and I are dying for a break-- we are not nobly rolling out of bed each day to work demanding or demeaning jobs. Our life is filled with plenty of leisure. But it will still be nice to have a change of pace, a chance to live it up for a week with palm trees, sand, and sun.

Will post pictures upon our return.

Sick

Sometimes I'm a trooper when I'm sick. I sat through numerous rounds of Rummy Royale with a kidney stone and even won a few hands; I studied for and took a 2 hour midterm, essay style, with the flu and passed with flying colors. Other times, I'm quite the baby when I'm sick.

Last night my temperature spiked suddenly. After a day of feeling achey and sore throaty, this was the final straw. After Lucy went to sleep I laid on the couch, whining. I whined for a glass of water, a straw for the water, for Alan to move the water closer to me, for some soup, to watching something other than PBS, to turn up the volume so I could sing along to the karaoke show with Wayne Brady.

After my fever kept climbing I thought "I should take something" only to find we were out of every pain reliever. Once I talked myself out of downing an entire bottle of baby Tylenol, I found one little generic acetaminophen tablet rattling around in the medicine cabinet. I took it with thanks and was comforted when a few hours later my headache subsided enough for me to sleep.

So today the fever is gone but I still feel pretty rotten. But I'm back to being a trooper about being sick, will push through my responsibilities and get my work done complaint-free. Thanks to Alan for letting me whine it all out last night :)

"Great events make me quiet and calm; it is only trifles that irritate my nerves."
- Queen Victoria

Your Prayers, Please

Please keep Alan's friend Ben Scott in your prayers. His younger brother, Junior, was found dead yesterday. He was only 25 years old. There is some suspicion as to how he died. Please remember Ben, his siblings, and their parents in your prayers, asking that they will find some comfort in God and the presence of one another. We can only hope that if other people were involved they are brought to swift justice.

We also can't help but think of Alan's classmate, Yi Jien Hwa, who never came back from his hike in August as well as a long time family friend who went missing this summer, was found in a coma, and passed away. Death is never easy-- Alan lost his Aunt Judy and Grandpa in the past few years. A few days, even a year of illness never seems like enough time when you are robbed of a loved one. Yet these deaths that are so sudden and tragic, and surrounded in mystery, leave your heart wishing you had at least one last minute to say goodbye.

Caught

I think I'm caught between a whole bunch of things, between many hard places and any number of rocks, if you will.

Reading a book called "The High Cost of Low Prices" that is about the violence of globalization. After going through a few chapters, several thoughts heavy on my mind, I decided I needed a jog to sort through my ideas.

But I began to ponder the great expense of something like jogging, especially when a breeze cooled me down and I realized I'd need clothes to run in this winter. Clothes most likely made by poor people from other countries. So I wondered, should I not be jogging?

Something like exercise always puzzles me at a deep level. I don't want to be like those little indie sh*ts who act like exercising is so middle class and pointless. Maybe it is passe, but I unfortunately am not in a profession or lifestyle that demands rigorous physical activity. And it is important to be active, so I jog and promise to find accesories that do not further the victimization of the oppressed. Still, I'm caught between needing exercise and not wanting to be yet another ignorant white girl trying to keep off extra pounds while most of the world starves; I'm caught between being cynical about how we view fitness and not wanting to be another ass who can only see meaning in music and movies.

Alan always teases me about how I always think I'm keepin' it real. And I often do get an attitude about how I think I'm so down to earth. I really do want to be in touch with the realities of the world, to live in solidarity with the poor, but don't know how. I don't want to be another bohemian brat who's in love with herself and her tastes and preferences. I hope someday soon God reaches down and plucks me out from these things I'm caught between.

Even though we ain't got money

One of Alan's favorite movies is Wet Hot American Summer-- a very silly movie that is also rather funny. Alan's favorite scene in Wet Hot involves the song "Danny's Song." You may have heard it; the chorus goes "Even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey..." Because of the movie we sing it to each other all the time, fondly reflecting on how even in times of financial straights our love carries us through.

But our situation with money is never so grim that we are really just living on love. We always eat, always have enough to cover the bills (even if its a stretch sometimes). What has brought this home recently is the situation in Zimbabwe.

A former classmate of mine lives in Zimbabwe, his home country, with his wife and young child. He is a pastor of several churches there and is suffering from the terrible inflation taking place. A bunch of our friends from college are chipping in each month to help him, his family, his churches get by. I wanted to know how far our money would go. I calculated the price of bread in Zimbabwe at this time and it is equal to over 2,000 US dollars. I can't imagine how what we are doing is bringing any relief.

So Alan and I can joke about how we are just getting by on love, but it helps to remember those who truly are surviving only by the grace of God and can only find their peace in their love for God and each other. Please pray that the situation in Zimbabwe comes to a quick and non-violent resolution.

Major Dude and Early Mornings

Last night I found a great song by Steely Dan. I love Steely Dan as it is, and anyone who knows my musical tastes knows I'm a sucker for encouraging lyrics. If you can brave the oddness, go listen to the song. Here is the chorus:

Any major dude with half a heart surely will tell you my friend
Any minor world that breaks apart falls together again
When the demon is at your door
In the morning it wont be there no more
Any major dude will tell you

Yes, Wilco fans, their version of Any Major Dude is a cover (surprise surprise). But I won't open up that can of worms.

So we had an early morning. Alan has taken to running first thing (and I mean in the wee hours, 6ish). It isn't even 11am and I feel like most of my day is behind me. It was nice to walk downtown while the air was still breathable; these Kentucky Septembers are brutal at times.

I'm trying to take Steely Dan's advice, seeing my world as a minor world that-- despite all the little breaks-- will eventually fall together again.

In Need of Fresh Air

I am working hard to make up for an inevitable gap in my assignments, pumping out prose about elliptical trainers and protein powder. At the same time I am running an 8-hour long documentary about the planets, called "The Planets." I am checking the news online very frequently (Alan has a classmate who's been lost in Glacier National Park for 3 weeks and we are very worried about his fate). And I'm filled with caffeine from Dr. Pepper and chocolate ice cream.

I think I've uncovered the location of a dimension hidden behind the fabric of space and time.

Needless to say, last night I dreamed of flying to Neptune, unaided by anything but my own willpower, guided with directions I found when typing into Google "directions from Wilmore, KY to Neptune." I think my brain is still there.

Just One of Those Weeks

Its just been one of those weeks. Lucy has been clingy and cranky, Alan and I have been arguing about everything, friends of ours received some not-so-good news after a long wait, and the school year is at hand. Right now the sky is rumbling, ready to usher in one last summer storm.

I know things always get better, every cloud has a silver lining and so forth, I just prefer the times when life is rolling smoothly.

I`ve been waiting to awaken from these dreams
People go just where they will
I never noticed them until
I got this feeling
That it`s later than it seems

-Jackson Brown

"I'm not an angry girl..."

This is the kind of year I've been having. It is amazing that even after bringing a new life into the world, bringing home the bacon, rediscovering the Church, and learning so many things about the stars and philosophy I can still let people around me make me feel like I'm a raving lunatic who should be concerning herself with other things.

Since I don't know what to say anymore, in defense of myself or what is dear to me, I'll let Ani DeFranco take it from here.

"Not A Pretty Girl"

I am not a pretty girl
that is not what I do
I ain't no damsel in distess
and I don't need to be rescued
so put me down punk
maybe you'd prefer a maiden fair
isn't there a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere

I am not an angry girl
but it seems like I've got everyone fooled
every time I say something they find hard to hear
they chalk it up to my anger
and never to their own fear
and imagine you're a girl
just trying to finally come clean
knowing full well they'd prefer you
were dirty and smiling

Bonnie and Clyde

I suppose I can blog about this now. When Alan and Lucy and I came back from Washington in June, we only had a few hours peace when a knock came at the door. Alan answered it while I changed out of my PJs. It was the cops, and they looked none too happy.

Now I have no respect for cops. Aside from my mother's brother-- who has too much of a brain to have been really cut out for it-- all the police I've encountered are generally small-minded and quite dense. So to see one standing in my living room, trying to intimidate us with his flab and jowls, put my blood pressure through the roof almost immediately.

To make matters worse, he starts asking questions about our whereabouts on such and such a date at whatever time. It happened to be the morning we drove to the airport, when we'd filled up on gas at a station where the alarm was buzzing. We thought we weren't allowed to pump gas at that time of the morning but I suppose the store was being robbed at that very moment.

So the big ugly cop tells me they have a picture of Alan walking into the store (which he didn't do) and wanted us to show him where we might be hiding the cartons of stolen cigarettes (which we obviously didn't have). Alan showed the guy around. He asked if we smoked, we said no. He asked why we had matches in our bathroom then. Alan answered to burn up the poop smell. The ugly cop said he didn't follow what Alan was saying. We tried to explain it again-- speaking very slowly and using small words-- but he just proceeded to talk about how if Alan had a confession he should give it to him sooner than later.

He actually told Alan "The deals get worse from here on out." Someone watches too much Law and Order!

He and the not-so-bad cop from our town finally left. And that was the last we heard of it. I can't imagine they ever had anyone on tape that looked like Alan-- people here ask all the time "What is he?" as if they've never seen a mixed race person before. When they venture a guess they sometimes ask if he's Russian or Middle Eastern-- no one in these parts looks like my husband.

We were rattled at first as this area has one of the highest rates of wrongful accusations in the country. But I suppose it has all blown over now and they caught the little punk who really did it.

Hopefully that was our first and last brush with the law.

Success

I watched a spot on "Sunday Morning" about Stephenie Meyer, the author of "Twilight" and the subsequent books in the series. I wasn't familiar with these books-- they are about a teenage girl and a teenage vampire who fall in love and have to constantly dodge his blood lusting.

Anyway, it wasn't the books that struck me, nor the hordes of screaming teens who show up at Meyer's book signings, but rather her story. She grew up in a Mormon home and, like many good Mormon women do, married and started having kids. She wrote the first book in her series after having a dream about the main characters. Meyer pounded out the story in a summer in between her duties as a mom and housekeeper. She'd never written before, nor did she have any aspiration to become a writer.

When asked by the "Sunday Morning" reporter if she was afraid her fame would disappear as quickly as it came, Stephenie Meyer said no. It isn't that she doubted her success could go away overnight, its that her life was very happy before-- going back to the status quo didn't frighten her because the life she had with her family and old job were good.

This is a sweet kind of success. Our culture is rather fond of the passionate, all or nothing stories. But the goal of each person, whether success reaches your doorstep or forever eludes you, should be to strive for a good life.

Long Time Friends

We sing a song at Perkins Chapel called "Long Time Friends." We sing it to God, who is certainly the longest time friend we all have. Long time friends in other people, however, are often hard to come by.

As a philosophy major I learned that people become friends because of usefulness, pleasure, or goodness. Useful friends are the ones who have what you need at the time, I suppose. A study buddy, a work friend... sometimes even relationships that seem deep are merely one person using the other for company, as a warm body to talk to. Pleasure friendships make me think of those people you love to be around because they are so much fun. My friends in the knitting store in Nyack were like this-- we shared a common interest, swapped stories and advice-- even though we all came from different walks of life.

Now truly good friendships are few and far between, the kind of bond where you see the goodness in the other person and love them even if they stop being useful or fun. I only have a few good, longtime friends. They all live far away, but we still keep in close contact. In fact the distance between us has only proved that our common goals and love for each other are the base of our bond rather than convenience or good times. Friendships that spring from utility or pleasure are not bad, but I am thankful for those longtime friends who let me love them as they are and love me just as I am.

No person is your friend who demands your silence, or denies your right to grow. -Alice Walker

Visits

Alan, Lucy, and I were fortunate enough to have a few visits already this summer. First my sister Alex came for a short week. Now let's be clear: her primary motive for flying to Kentucky was Lucy, but we all enjoyed her company just the same. We took walks-- several, in fact, as Alan kept taking the car downtown and we kept inventing reasons to drive around. Alex baked, of course, and we made her watch Flight of the Conchords. One rainy day we bought craft kits from Hobby Lobby and made sun catchers and coasters.

Then this past week we had the pleasure of welcoming my Mom. Aside from dragging her out for a jog, insisting she stay up late to see Jupiter's moons through my binoculars, asking her to make shrimp tikka masala, having her hold Lucy while I picked raspberries, and whining at her to help me clean out my pantry, I didn't make her do too much. We all had some good, solid theological discussions about annhilinationsism and matters of the human soul. And then we had her listen to some Roy Wood Jr. prank calls and she laughed and laughed.

Lucy had a great time with Alex and my Mom. She thinks they are both soooo hilarious. She kept cracking up and looking at me and Alan as if to say "Where did you find these people!?"

Thanks for coming guys. Hope to see you again soon.

...And One More Thing.

We had a nice 4th of July. After watching the end of the Wilmore parade, the 3 of us headed down to the camp meeting for 25 cent hot dogs and cheap Ale 8 accompanied by Ryan and daughter Morgan. It drizzled on and off. After hanging out with our friends for a bit we watched Punch Drunk Love (my first time, I thought it was very funny).

We ordered BBQ chicken from Sonny's for dinner and our whole crew ate together, played some croquet and Apples to Apples, roasted marshmallows, passed the babies around, and had some laughs. After dark we watched the fire works from a distance and lit sparklers (thanks Mom and Dad). Tomorrow a bunch of us ladies are venturing out for the town wide yard sale. Yeah!

I can't help but think of our first 4th of July in Wilmore, being very tense and unsure of ourselves-- I'm very thankful for settling in to this lovely little place and for all the friends and acquaintances we've made here.

A bit about freedom, in honor of the 4th

'Marriage, in what is evidently its most popular version, is now on the one hand an intimate "relationship" involving (ideally) two successful careerists in the same bed, and on the other hand a sort of private political system in which rights and interests must be constantly asserted and defended. Marriage, in other words, has now taken on the form of divorce: a prolonged and impassioned negotiation as to how things shall be divided.' - Wendell Berry, Feminism, the Body, and the Machine

Before moving to Kentucky Alan gave me a book of short stories by a man named Wendell Berry who, I'm ashamed to admit, I'd never heard of at that point. Alan mentioned he happened to be a writer and farmer who was also a Kentucky man, and this book might give me a taste of Bluegrass living. Since moving to Jessamine County what's captivated me about Wendell Berry has more to do with his insights into conservation, social relationships, and the pitfalls of American living than his fiction about the Commonwealth.

The quote above is taken from a short essay Berry wrote in response to some of his critics. After mentioning in an article for Harper's that his wife types his manuscripts on a typewriter, Berry received several letters denouncing him as an oppressive husband, treating his wife like a "household drudge."

So Berry poses this question: if he'd mentioned in the same article that his wife was a career typist, would he have heard the same outcry? Probably not. There is something about a person who works outside the home that says "freedom" or "independence" whereas the one who stays home with children or farms or runs a cottage industry calls to mind some kind of bondage.

Are we really so dense any more? I haven't talked to so many people in my life, but most of those I've come across have suffered a fair amount of oppression in the work place. Berry's point seems to be that the best thing at the beginning of the industrial age would have been for women to call there husbands back home to labor rather than for men to drag their wives into the machine we call work.

I don't have any problem with working outside the home; I do know that for me it was a constant fight to keep my dignity intact and my spirits up. And I know we need lots of professional people, but why is that the ideal for all? You can't tell me there is more freedom for the person who sits behind a desk all day than my friend who spends her time tending a garden and working at the children's library. Nor can you say that a single mom I knew in New York who made a living dying yarn and raising her 5 kids is oppressed because she removed herself from a high power corporate job.

People of both genders would do well to rethink what it means to be free, to be independent, to be happy. After writing the statement I quoted above, Berry goes on to talk of how the American home is based on consumption rather than production. Whereas families once made things together, they now primarily consume beside each other. So I suppose if our purpose is to consume, than we all would do well to get good-paying jobs to support our purpose.

I know I didn't do Berry's essay much justice here, so please read it for yourself if you have the time. Thanks for reading this, I'll accept your criticisms as graciously as I can.

Race #1

I just finished my first 5K. My time was 41:49-- not great, by any means, but still an accomplishment for me. Thank you to Alan and Meredith for their pre/post race encouragement, to Amberly for cheering me on, and to RJ Corman who hosted the event. I talked with RJ for a bit while we were running and he turns out to be a very polite man, so it will be hard to still think of him as Wilmore's version of Mr. Burns (for those who don't know he is the millionaire up on the hill here).

The details? I ran, I walked, I watched quite a few people pass me and passed a couple myself. The hills were demoralizing, the onlookers were uplifting (except for the little girl who pointed at me and said "She's NOT going to win the race"!), and I appreciated the free spring water. Congrats to Meredith for placing-- we knew you'd do well.

Now I can see better the holes in my weekly routine. I'd like to keep running my whole life. My grandfather is a rather fit person for his age. He walks every day and has incredible endurance, which I learned all too well when he outdid Alan and I on a 5 mile hike in the snow (another blog post for another day). God willing, I will live to see 80 and still be out there jogging.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation (Part I)

Other seminary families know: true vacations are few and far between. Plane tickets and suitcases say "sleeping in my in-laws living room" or "a week fighting with my siblings" more than "some time off to relax." This trip was a little of both, a visit with family that had an excursion to the beach tucked in the middle.

We left Wilmore at 2am (only a few hours after Chad and Justin were under our car fixing it). As usual we thought we missed our turn in Louisville and got a little lost, barely making it to the gate in time. After being tossed over to Charlotte, NC (where they have rocking chairs all over the airport) we buckled in for a 6 hour flight to Tacoma. A pleasant surprise was waiting: our rental was upgraded to a luxury car. Alan had a great time using it to cruise through the city, avoiding the freeway at all costs.

After a few days of hanging out with Alan's family-- including our cute niece and nephews who are also so much fun-- we started preparing to caravan out to the Oregon coast. My two clever sister-in-laws had the whole thing planned out and we spent the day before shopping for our food.

We ended up driving the scenic route to Oregon which took hours, but we had a good time getting there just the same. I could not believe all the mountains, the inlets, the crusty little fishing towns we passed. It was cloudy (of course) but very beautiful, especially when we rounded one corner and there was the Pacific far below with waves crashing up on the rocks. I told Alan it looked like a scene in a Hitchcock movie.

Finally after 5 hours, a bout of car sickness, a stop to shop, and thousands of huge pine trees we were at the beach house, the roar of the ocean clearly heard on the other side of the dunes. I opened the car door, smelled the salt air and pine pitch, and felt like I could breath again.

"On our way, on our way home... the time we had is not gone." - The Mother Hips

"Tell me, where did you sleep last night?
In the pines, in the pines where the sun doesn't shine." - Lead Belly

What I Did On My Summer Vacation (Part II)

The house was simply lovely. It looked more like a beach cottage someone owns and frequents rather than rents out. The decor was beachy and homey with a beautiful hand-stitched quilt on the wall, fine furnishings, and a full kitchen. After a moment of unpacking and kid-proofing the house, Alan and I walked out to the beach, leaving Lucy to play with her cousins. The water was a mere thirty second walk from the back door (props to Desiree and Tamiko for getting a house right on the sand).

The sand was soft, there was drift wood as far as the eye could see. I didn't realize how pretty drift wood could be, all polished by the waves and bleached by the sun. The water was freezing but I didn't care. I'd never been in a place where the ocean is before you and at your back are mountains so high their peaks are hidden in the mist.


That night we ate tacos. (Note: I married into an eating family. Alan's family know what good food is and eat plenty of it. This, for me, is a key part of any vacation and I thank them all for putting a few pounds on me while out West). We spent a good hour or two in the hot tub that faced the water, watched Flight of the Concords, snacked on wasabi peas and fruit, and fell asleep that night lulled by the sound of the waves.

The next day was more of the same-- eating, walking on the beach, soaking in the hot tub, playing with the kids. That morning both my brothers-in-law, Bubba and Bryan, went jogging with me-- well, it turned out I was tagging along with them the whole time. The guys played pool and cooked a barbecue feast for us that evening. My father-in-law, Howie, roasted marshmallows over the grill for s'mores which was a much welcomed dessert.

Our final day we packed up and cleaned the house. We headed up to Canon Beach to see the sand castle festival and Haystack Rock. It was cold! But we still shopped and perused the castle competition. We warmed up with some clam chowder and seafood at Moe's before hitting the road. We wanted to be home at a reasonable hour so we drove home the quick way which involved a hair raising amount of hairpin turns (I was driving, Howie and Alan gripping the sides of the car with every cliff we passed).

As I said in the beginning, it was pleasant. I can't complain about a trip that afforded us new family memories, a chance to see the ocean, salt water taffy, plenty of pictures, and some time to relax.

"I'm still living with your ghost
Lonely and dreaming of the West Coast
We could live beside the ocean
Leave the fire behind." - Everclear

"We spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
Where are we going, so far away
And somebody told me that this is the place
Where everything's better, everything's safe
Walk on the ocean
Step on the stones
Flesh becomes water
Wood becomes bone

Now were back at the homestead
Where the air makes you choke
We don't even have pictures
Just memories to hold" - Toad the Wet Sprocket

Misc.

Like everything else, I cannot post one of those rad little mix tapes on my blog. Is it the blog? The stupid computer? I have no idea.

Anyway I am rocking out to Stone Temple Pilots and Wilson Phillips and Mr Bigg right now. Good fun. Alan and I celebrated our 2nd anniversary yesterday. Just youngins, I know.

Lucy started dancing the other day, bobbing her head and singing when she hears music! She's dancing right now! And clapping! (I'm a very proud parent).

I'm looking forward to a trip to WA. This time, FINALLY, Alan is taking me to see the Pacific Ocean. It will be nice to have a break-- no matter how much I love Wilmore it will be good to see family, visit a real city, and (thank you merciful God) breath ocean air into my lungs.

And my sister's coming for a visit after our trip. She wants to hang around town drinking Ale 8, harassing the local (sounds good to me!).

I'll write more later when I have something worth saying.

See Sarah run. Run, Sarah, run!

Once upon a time I was a college student. I lived on chicken patty sandwiches and canned pineapple all school year, spent most of my time planted in front of a computer or in class, and relaxed by "hanging out" (usually consisting of a bunch of friends sitting in someone's dorm room or a restaurant while eating crappy food).

One summer break I was at my grandparent's place in upstate NY when my younger cousin invited me for a run. I made it up one hill and down the next and almost died. I couldn't get back up once I was on the ground. My aunt had to get me with her car. I crawled into one of the bunk beds at the house and almost withered away with shame. 20 years old and I couldn't jog a 1/4 of a mile. But it was no wonder considering the way I took care of myself.

College came and went. Now here I am a few years later determined to live down the embarrassment of being young and out of shape. This is my second week of running and I hope to be fit enough to run a 5K at the end of June. (Special thanks to Meredith for inspiring me and keeping me accountable; please click on her blog link at the right to read her marathon story).

This is really a balancing process. I'm making up for all that inside, sedentary, philosophy time I spent in college by getting out, running around, looking at the stars, while still nurturing that part of me that likes to think deep and long. I'm learning that going for a jog and knitting, liking science and loving God, being a homebody and enjoying good company are not mutually exclusive.

So despite all the naysayers I'm going to run and I'm going to love it.

Baby

Our Lucy is such a baby! She is all chubbiness and smiles. Lucy can sit up all by herself, eat solid food, and even blows raspberries on our necks. She started clapping a little and says "dadada" and "mumum" and "buh buh buh." You'd think a baby never babbled before the way Alan and I are proud of her when she does that.

I wanted to post some pictures (there are hundreds to choose from, trust me) but my computer is being dumb and won't let me upload pictures or even make hyper links on this blog (any advice Chad?). Hopefully I will have some up soon.

She is napping with her Dad right now; they were both up late last night due to teething pain (Lucy was teething, not Alan). Alan is a good nighttime parent. When I am too tired to think straight Alan is walking around with Lucy, hushing her back to sleep.

We are very sleepy these days and very happy.

We heard many a comment when I was pregnant about how soon we were having a baby, questions like "Was this a planned pregnancy?" from virtual strangers. If I was indignant then, now all I can say is they can stick it where the sun don't shine. Lucy is the greatest little person I've ever met; shame on people who make others (especially new moms) doubt the joy and blessing of being a parent.

Pictures will be up soon, I promise.

Well I whisper in the dark
From the bottom of my heart
And I'm searchin for one star to shine
I will shout from mountain high
And I'll reach into the sky
Til you open up my eyes so blind

Oh but lord no, Don't make it easy
Keep me workin' til I work it on out
Just please, please shine enough light on me
'Til I'm free from this shadow of doubt

-Gary Nicholson


i surrender all
to the promises you made
and i will give it all
to the maker of the day

no one knows your heart
and no one knows your fears
when no one solves the mysteries
or even wipes away the tears

can you hear the sound of laughter
from the other side of life?
there are days when i feel like a stranger sometimes...

-Newsboys

Stargazing II

My nighttime explorations of the sky are getting better each time I gaze. Now I can pick out constellations by the handful, even in the terrible Wilmore sky (the lights from Lexington and the Asbury baseball field ruin the Northern sky). Mars and Saturn are up every night this season, hanging out in Gemini and Leo respectively.

I encourage you all to look up some evening this week. There are a few links on the side bar that can help you orient yourself under the night sky.

Once Alan empties our camera of baby movies I will take and post some new pictures of Lucy. We've been plowing through the semester, learning to be parents, to be better people of faith, keeping our heads up as best we can.

More later. Too tired to write anymore!

Athan's Surgery

Our good friends Amberly and Ryan's little boy Athan is undergoing heart surgery today. Please keep them in your prayers today as Athan jumps one last big hurtle to recovery. We are so proud of this little guy and all he has overcome in the past year.

Please stay posted with what is happening with Athan and his family throughout the day at athansjourney.blogspot.com (sorry, I can't hyperlink things from this computer).

Homemade

I love homemade things, especially now that I'm spending so much time at home. Seriously! Being home all day most days gives me more time to appreciate the quilt from my sister-in-law Tamiko, the paintings from my Grandpa and Stephen. The pillows hand-stitched by my mother-in-law and a good friend's aunt, the scarf from my sister, the diaper bag from Hannah, the hand painted picture frames (also from my Grandpa) and countless crafts from cousins surround me each day and serve as reminders that people care for us.

Right after Christmas -- this Christmas being particularly filled with handmade and thoughtful items-- Alan and I had a discussion about taste. A lot of times we receive gifts outside the usual limits of our tastes. But are our tastes so important, so sacred in their particularities, that we can't allow others to have a hand in shaping them?

I believe allowing a place in our home for the things people make us has opened the door for our tastes to be changed. First off, they weren't so great to begin with! And second of all, just as I'd rather have others enrich my life than be left to my own devices, so I'd rather my home be beautified with the handiwork of others.

Thank you to all who have labored in love on our behalf.

A Nice Day

What a nice day we had yesterday. After Alan finished off a few papers the three of us drove up to the Gap clearance store and spent an hour or so picking through clothes with tears along the seams and shoe prints on the front (which was fun in its own way). Then we ate at Cracker Barrel, a must when traveling a road like I-75, and enjoyed the sunset as we drove home.

Could we have been doing other things? Yes. Was it the most virtuous way to spend the first day of Alan's break? Not exactly. But it was good to buy some needed clothes, to get out of Jessamine County, and be together as a family on a rainy day.

Anti Intellectualism

"If you make people think they're thinking, they'll love you; But if you really make them think, they'll hate you."
- Don Marquis

If there was a theme for this past week in my life it is anti intellectualism, the steadfast refusal from people to learn or admit the value of a formal education. This is first of all an insult to me, my husband, my sister, our friends who are pursuing higher education. They are not going to school to arrogantly amass knowledge-- many are, like Alan, devotedly learning so they can teach others.

It is a particular problem in some parts of the church. To all you sisters and brothers in Christ who turn your nose up at philosophy I say quit reading Paul's letters as they are full of the wisdom of Greek philosophers.

Hate Church History? Stay away from the book of Hebrews, or Chronicles, or the beginning of Matthew-- all precursors to the discipline of Church History.

And you think seminary is a waste of time, that knowledge of God is only found in life experience? Better put down your Bible all together as it was most likely translated by seminary-trained scholars. And forget even reading a Greek version because it was assembled after countless years of educated people pouring over texts and using their wisdom to make decisions about what should be included. Maybe you should learn ancient Hebrew and Koine Greek and stick to pdf versions of manuscripts if you want an unblemished read of God's word.

Life experience is obviously important. We need to live the virtues to show we've truly learned them. But I'd like to see some of you live the life of faith without the hard work and sincere learning of scholars who see education as a ministry to the Body.

So please, anti intellectuals, next time you read your Bible or sit at your computer-- even as you enjoy the comfort of your home-- please have a little more respect for the "intellectual" people who had a part in affording you those privileges.


"Fools hate wisdom and teaching." Proverbs 1:7b

Ordinary Days

not much for conversation
i still find need to pray
sometimes i get tired of walking
through these ordinary days

if nothing else i get to see you
even if we never speak
the harm of words is sometimes we don't
quite know what they really mean

i don't know where
i don't know how
i don't know why
but your love can make these things better

let me lay down in this field
and stare up at the sky
i hope the days and clouds turn into something
as they pass us by

jars of clay

Are the Stars Out Tonight?

I was feeling a bit down last night and needed something to cheer me up. So once I had a chance to hand Lucy off to Alan I ventured out under the night sky to see what I could see.

A few days ago my new binoculars arrived. Very Rear Window, but I bought them hoping I could catch a better look at the planets and stars. Always at odds with the weather here, the clouds kept me from seeing a thing the first few nights.

But last night was clear enough. Orion was about to set but not before I saw the traces of the nebulae in this favorite constellation. I saw Saturn, red stars, blue stars, a cluster of something (I still have a lot to learn about what's up there), and spotted asterisms I could never pick out before.

It is amazing what a pair of binoculars can show you! I'm glad plenty of amateur stargazers warned against telescopes for the beginner. My bino's require no setup, are portable, and offer a wide field of view to see all the marvelous stuff of the universe.

Art of Country Chattiness

From "Golden Girls"--
Blanche: I'm jumpier than a virgin at a prison rodeo.
Dorothy: That's pretty jumpy.


Overheard at Fitch's IGA (local grocery store)--
Cashier: Aren't you gonna buy your husband a candy bar?
Customer: No, he's not much for sweets.
Cashier: Well he likes you, doesn't he?
Customer: (laughs) Maybe that's it, I'm just sweet enough for him.

I am no good at sweet talk. Maybe sweet talk isn't the word for it; I'm referring to that cheeky, quick way people speak here in Kentucky. Its a little like flirting and sarcasm and banter.

And I can't get a handle on it. Like Dorothy, I'm left only to agree with the cashier or whoever-- "Yep, that's right" when I know there is a more appropriate, mildly witty response. When Dorothy responds to Blanche its their shtick, its funny. Dorothy is in a position to make Blanche seem over dramatic, an oddity because of her rural eloquence. But I'm far from being able to criticize humorously as I am odd woman out.

People in NJ don't seem to talk this way in public very often. If they do it is not the modest and yet provocative art of country chattiness.


From "The Office" (the funny BBC one)
David Brent: Its Banter.
Finchy: Its not Banter.
David Brent: No its not banter, no.

Peace at No Cost

Recently I've been hearing a lot of the phrase "peace at all costs." At first glance this sounds right, just, good-- peace should be the highest of virtues, particularly in light of the world's current violence and fighting.

But peace at all costs will make you pay with everything, at all costs like it says. You will pay with your heart and mind, with the strength of your body and even your dignity as a person.

I suggest peace at no cost. And this kind of seamless peace comes with the truth. For it is Truth that is the highest good and with Truth peace naturally follows. Truth sets us free. This peace is not easy, but it doesn't drain the life from you like keeping peace for the sake of

"Oh yes," you might be saying "but the truth needs to be spoken in love." I think all too often we use this as an excuse to not truth-tell at all, weighing down the truth with so many niceties it is no longer really true. Love is bold, strong, powerful as much as it is kind and life-bringing.

I hope this rudimentary idea will spark some desire to tell the Truth in order to have true peace, in my own life as well as in yours.

No peace without truth. Let me know what you think.

Tornado

I forgot to blog about the tornadoes.

So one night we're sitting around, watching TV, our friend JD was over, and we see tornado warnings on the news. Not the first time we've seen them scrawl across the screen so we figure no big deal.

Well fast forward a few hours to when the tornado alarm for Wilmore sounds. At that point it was a very big deal for me. At that point we were hunkered down in the hallway with a flashlight and blankets, listening to the local news anchor describe roofs being ripped off people's houses.

I know, some of my friends down here are going to read this and make fun of me; they probably slept peacefully through the night. But we don't do tornadoes in NJ or WA.

Note: Thank you to all the people who left messages on my phone for my birthday. Just checked my voice mail now, over a week later :)

A Happy Birthday Indeed

This is a big ole' thank you to the people who made my birthday special:

To Alan and Lucy, for making the 7th a sweet day

To my folks, who drove over 20 hours to see us, and took me out for a birthday dinner, without complaint done only as parents do for their children

To my dear friends, who for the second time helped me celebrate a new year of life in all sincereity, generosity, and fun (not to mention all the tasty food)

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

"These were the happy days, the salad days as they say..."
- H.I. McDunna, "Raising Arizona"

Radio should always be free

I love online radio. I do not have an iPod and, when it gets down to it, I love the radio on in the car (all my so-called indie readers can vomit on their shoes now, if they like). Online radio carried me through the last half of college. I could listen to Tears for Fear, Justin Timberlake, and a Louis & Ella duet all in the same half hour while writing a paper on cults or Hinduism. Beautiful.

My newest, favorite online radio site is Pandora.

The only commercials are on the site-- they do not interrupt your music.

It taps into the Music Genome Project very nicely. All I did was tell them I like Stevie Wonder and I had a station full of the 1970's funk and current British Soul I like to hear while I work. Much like Yahoo radio, but more streamlined.

Taking Care of Business

I started another job. That is number 4 since we've been in Kentucky.

In the 7 Habits of Highly Successful People there is a chapter regarding working to learn, not for money. I take this quite seriously, and here are the jobs I've learned from:

I've babysat a boatload
Scooped ice cream, sold cigarettes and lottery tickets
Slopped up school food
Worked at a movie theater (for about 4 hours)
Counseled camp kids
Did the retail thing and hated it
Served fish and salads with the Amish
Taught knitting, sold yarn
Labeled endless loads of cashmere
Made widgets for cholesterol testers
Scheduled appointments for Doctors with God-complexes
Served migrant kids

And now.. well, give me a call and ask me what I'm doing, if you really wanna know!

"I'm working so I won't have to try so hard..."
-the Strokes

"The Business of Being Born"

I encourage all of you to see the preview for this new documentary about birth in America (thebusinessofbeingborn.com). After Riki Lake had a not-so-good experience giving brith in a hospital, she decided to put the word out about natural, home-based alternatives. For all you Netflixers, it is available on Feb. 26.

Happy viewing!

Games

This year Alan's family did a kind of Secret Santa exchange. My sister-in-law Desiree bought for me. She's an avid game collector and my stash is lacking so I asked for some board games. She got me Pit, Apples to Apples, and a fine addition of Trivial Pursuit.

I'm hoping (hint hint) that when we get back to Kentucky my dear friends will indulge me in a little Saturday night competition. They are all great party games and, after all, that's what Saturday at the triplexes always is: a party.

Come on, get happy!

Over Christmas, I fell in love. With Guitar Hero. Stephen brought it over, I played it, then I couldn't stop. Alex and Stephen looked at me like I was nuts when I was going on my third hour of playing. They took Guitar Hero away from me. So sad.

But today I met Guitar Hero's little brother, Rock Band. He is bigger, he is better, he is all about cooperation...

Four solid hours of drums and guitar. My in-laws and husband make great band mates. I felt like a part of the Partridge Family.

So you can keep your Guitar Hero Stephen. I've found a new drug.

Go West Young Man...

Our family is in Washington for the week. After two seamless flights (I mean, people actually came up to us afterwards and told us what a good baby we have, even the crotchety old business men said it) we are happily settled in at Alan's sister's home.

Our nephews and niece are so big! I guess I forget sometimes that while our little one grows, so do everyone else's.

Last night we all hung out, played a rowdy game of Pit, today I went grocery shopping with my sister-in-law and she cooked a tasty Mexican dinner. Tomorrow it is church and who knows what. We all have fun when we are together, that is for sure.

Snow, Skinny Fat

Snow day today. Everyone over reacting, in my opinion. It is just a little snow but no one is on the road. Although, maybe it is less a fear of precipitation and more a good excuse to stay in. In that case, I'll take the cue from the locals.

On the Today Show yesterday there was a feature titled "Skinny Fat or Skinny Thin?" I couldn't believe it. They were talking about how some people think they are skinny, but they are really all fat underneath.

I'm sick of it. Not just sick of overly thin models and actresses, blah blah blah. I'm tired of women I know counting calories, calling three potato chips a snack, when they already look on the brink of snapping like twigs; ashamed of myself thinking not fitting back into my size 6 jeans after the baby is a travesty.

We should all strive to be healthy, but I don't think skinny is healthy for most people.

What do you all think? Please let me know.

Spring in January

I started blogging to tell the tales of Kentucky from my point of view. Well the Bluegrass is romancing me again. The past few days have been a warmly breezy 70 degrees. This is no New Jersey fake-you-out-in-March kind of day when you think Spring will be arriving shortly only to wake up to snow the next morning. Those days, though a nice reprieve, are far from being truly warm.

This is January people, and it is lovely! Folks are outside in their shirtsleeves, taking walks and looking up pleasantly puzzled at the sky. Record highs for this part of the country. Couldn't be better.

I know my southern friends are hardly impressed. They returned from a Christmas that was most likely balmy and beautiful. But this Jersey girl is reveling in the premature Spring.

"I'm living and breathing in a rat trap town
Trying to get over where the wall breaks down
Holidng my head up with my thin tired arms
And all my rainbow dreams"
-Steve Forbert