Thank God for Al Gore. Here is a man who not only understands the issues of climate change from an environmental perspective, but also from a moral and ethical one as well. Make no mistake, climate changes will impact the poorest countries, regions and people way before those changes will affect rich people (except for ruining Bahamanian vacations perhaps).
My church has been 'Greening' for over a year now. On Saturday, March 29th, the church hosted a solar panel presentation informing people that even in the Pacific Northwest we could utilize solar power. The speaker was Chris Herman of Winter Sun Design. We have previously hosted Al Gore's climate crisis presentation (same presentation as An Inconvenient Truth) by a trained presenter. We are also involved with Earth Ministries, which is working to "inspire and mobilize the Christian Community to play a leadership role in building a just and sustainable future."
I see the issues of global warming and climate change as moral issues of social justice. I believe that we are living in the Garden of Eden. If I'd given my children something as beautiful as this planet and then they went about trashing it there would be no end to my disappointment.
Check out my man, Al on 60 Minutes.
player
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Autism: The Musical
This is a fascinating documentary on HBO about the Miracle Project. I remember Doug and me waiting with anxious trepidation to get past the critical 2nd birthday so that we could breathe a sigh of relief: we've dodged autism. This is a touching look at the parents and kids dealing with this disorder which has reached epidemic proportions in this country. So many theories, so little time.
Grandparents and Special Friends day
Today is Grandparents day at school. They added 'special friends' because they realize a lot of kids don't have grandparents living close by. My kids sure don't and it's kind of hard...I've been thinking a lot about Granny lately as we approach the 1st anniversary of her death. Why have my mother and I both started playing bridge? I know it's because we miss Granny and that is a way to remember and honor her.
We passed by Brittany Park the other day, where Granny lived toward the end of her life, and Wilbur pointed at it and said, "Who lives there?" It made me so happy that he knew that place and it's importance. And like so many times in life (when we arrive at a certain age) it made me sad for precisely the same reason. Because he didn't say, "I want to go see Granny!" the way he used to when we passed Brittany Park. He couldn't quite remember. And as I see the vividness of his recollection of her ebb away, I feel my loss all over again.
Honey Bucket
Oh my Lord. There is a honey bucket on my driveway! I know the guys working on the house don't want to track mud in our home, but I don't know about having a port-o-potty right there on my front lawn!
Real Cream in a Can
We order our milk from Smith Brothers Dairy, a local all-natural dairy. We put out our order form every Wednesday and the milk is delivered to our doorstep. They deliver milk, cheese, yogurt, Tully's coffee and various sundries. On our order form is one very funny option under the cream: Real Cream In A Can. Now Doug and I use that ad nauseum. Here are some examples:
"She is so full of herself! She thinks she's Cream In A Can!"
"That's True Blue! It's Real Cream In A Can!"
It's like 'On A Stick' but it's cream in a can...
I don't know why certain words are funny, but chicken always is, cream is funny, the word Lady is funny...
"She is so full of herself! She thinks she's Cream In A Can!"
"That's True Blue! It's Real Cream In A Can!"
It's like 'On A Stick' but it's cream in a can...
I don't know why certain words are funny, but chicken always is, cream is funny, the word Lady is funny...
I'll Tell You What, that is Cream in a Can!
Whata Wheek
What a week! Work continues on the house with relatively good weather all week. I had to get all the auction artwork for the boys' school completed and delivered to the school by this morning (whew, I had to get someone with some visual creativity to mount all the art work the kids did - as my friend Leigh often says about voluntarism, "Can't I just write a check?" That's what I needed to do on this art framing stuff). I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, the dog has to go to the vet, the auction is tomorrow, I have a hair appointment, Sunday we have church and Sunday afternoon we are meeting with the cabinet maker and our contractor.
A couple of mornings ago the boys were sitting on the couch upstairs before school. Wilbur always watches a little Sesame Street in the morning and Emery was watching with him. I heard Emery say very sweetly, "Wilbur would you scratch my back?" and Wilbur said, "Ok Emery." It was so cute and sweet.
A couple of mornings ago the boys were sitting on the couch upstairs before school. Wilbur always watches a little Sesame Street in the morning and Emery was watching with him. I heard Emery say very sweetly, "Wilbur would you scratch my back?" and Wilbur said, "Ok Emery." It was so cute and sweet.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Spring is Bustin' Out All Over!
My office backs up to an area that is protected wetlands and there are many walking trails. It was a glorious day today; everything is bursting forth, cherry trees, ornamental plum and pear trees and robins are everwhere. As I walked this afternoon, I remembered this poem of Spring:
Spring and Fall: To a young child
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
All Things Are Mine Since I Am His
This is my favorite hymn. It describes my faith journey. And this Easter Morn, this came to my mind.
http://www.hymnsite.com/fws/2212.mid
How Can I Keep From Singing?
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—How can I keep from singing?
Hope! Joy! Peace! Resurrection! Happy, Happy Day!
http://www.hymnsite.com/fws/2212.mid
How Can I Keep From Singing?
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—How can I keep from singing?
Hope! Joy! Peace! Resurrection! Happy, Happy Day!
Is This Not the Day For Singing?
Preparing for Easter. What an evening. We are in Day 3 of mourning for the brutal death of innocence. Or Innocents. For we all have been betrayed. We identify with the suffering of a man betrayed by his friends, by his government, and by the heavens because we have all said such things as, "If there is any other way" - "If this cup could pass from me" AND "My God, My Creator, Why Have You Forsaken Me?"
We identify because we feel innocent of the crimes, we knew our intentions were good and we cannot bear the betrayal. We suffer because we see Jesus as the Lamb, the child we hear was abused, the animal kicked, the torture of a bystander who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The news is full of crucifixions. Death sentences to criminals who were once blameless babes. They were children full of promise, beaten down and shamed. Profligates who prosper while the poor are in pain. Evil everywhere. But the darkness cannot overcome the light: This is the message of the resurreaction for which we wait this night. We hope and we pray that this time, this Easter, the Resurrection will happen. We hope against hope. From Glory to Glory.
Father, Abba, Creator, Heal Us. Resurrect Us. We Beg You. We want to know the meaning of our suffering.
Tomorrow morning the sun will break - the dawn will come. The stone will be rolled away. The tomb will be empty. The angel will ask, For Whom Are Your Crying? He is Risen! We wait for Resurrection!
Barack Busts It Out
I am not able to watch daytime television, so I hadn't seen Obama's dance moves, but he is fantastic! Finally, the possibility of a President who doesn't look like a silly fool when the music starts.
Friday, March 21, 2008
As Ugly as Homemade Sin
On my most recent This American Life podcast there was an incredible story about a boy named Bobby Dunbar. In 1912 Bobby Dunbar disappeared. But a boy was found 8 months later who was presumed to be this child. The parents went to identify him. But another woman came forward to claim that he was her child, Bruce Anderson. Julia Anderson was an unwed mother whose son had been found traveling with an older man, a drifter, named William Walters. A trial was held and in the end the child was given to the Dunbars and the court claimed that Julia Anderson had no claim to him. In 2004, the great-granddaughter of the child presumed to be Bobby discovered the truth. She researched the case for four years and her discoveries had alienated her from her own family, unhappy were they to hear the truth.
One of William Walter's descendents told a story about a woman who took her little grandchild with her wherever she went. She said that this woman was as Ugly as Homemade Sin, and that's why she always took her grandchild with her wherever she went. She said that her Uncle, William Walters, traveled with the child who later was identified as Bobby Dunbar, to ease his way.
I love those old phrases - like Cheap Christmas Trash, and Ugly as Homemade Sin. They remind me of the way my father and grandmother talked. My dad used to say So and So was a 'useless as tits on a boar hog.'
One of William Walter's descendents told a story about a woman who took her little grandchild with her wherever she went. She said that this woman was as Ugly as Homemade Sin, and that's why she always took her grandchild with her wherever she went. She said that her Uncle, William Walters, traveled with the child who later was identified as Bobby Dunbar, to ease his way.
I love those old phrases - like Cheap Christmas Trash, and Ugly as Homemade Sin. They remind me of the way my father and grandmother talked. My dad used to say So and So was a 'useless as tits on a boar hog.'
Maundy Thursday
Judas Iscariot 1891 by Nikolai GeLast night we observed the betrayal of this Holy Week. We met at church for a lovely supper and took communion. We heard the Gospel of Mark: the annointing at Bethany, the disciples falling asleep, Peter denying Jesus, Judas and finally the crown of thorns. We celebrated the service of Tenebrae, or the extinguishing the light. The candles were snuffed out one by one until we sat in darkness. We left in silence. We wait now for Easter morning and the resurrection.
Why Race Still Matters
Race Still Matters because of stories like the one linked here of Pinky Powell: born before the turn of the last century, she passed down to her great-granddaughter stories of the betrayal visited upon her in this country. We may be civil now, but our past is filled with brutality. And people are alive today who feel that violence and injustice acutely. They remember and love the soul who was persecuted. So it still matters to Mary Ellen Noone, who recorded the story of her great-grandmother with StoryCorps (www.storycorps.org). Listen to the story:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=88708253
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=88708253
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Gifts Are Challenges
We met today with Dr. Betty Jones, who is a diagnostician, about some testing for Emery. He was tested at the age of 5 at the Robinson Center for Young Scholars at the University of Washington and it's time to do that testing again. After parenting this child for 8 1/2 years I write these things from a new perspective than a new parent who is excited by the gifts her child exhibits.
Let me say that all children are gifts and gifted. And I have learned, over these years of parenting that gifts are challenges from the creator. Sometimes we get the gift and we don't know how to manage it or nurture it. That's where we are with Em.
Emery's verbal IQ is very high - in the superior range (131). And it presents certain challenges in his daily life. It presents many challenges in parenting. His verbal acuity affects him socially with his peers and as he interacts with adults and authority figures.
We also need to know if there is anything else going on... And this neurological/psychological work up should give us that information. We had a very good meeting today and we felt comforted that in the initial assessment Asperger's does not seem to be likely, nor does Oppositional Defiant Disorder (according to the doctor). Perhaps it is merely this verbal ability that makes our lives a challenge.
I think of other parents I know who are just at the beginning of this journey - seeing their child exhibit these incredible skills very early in their lives (Em knew his alphabet cold - backward and forward - by 18 months. He read by age 3.) and I think how proud we were back then, not realizing the struggle to manage the gift. Be Prepared. These children are tough and we didn't see the responsibility of this ability early on. We struggle with it and we continue to try to do right by our child.
Let me say that all children are gifts and gifted. And I have learned, over these years of parenting that gifts are challenges from the creator. Sometimes we get the gift and we don't know how to manage it or nurture it. That's where we are with Em.
Emery's verbal IQ is very high - in the superior range (131). And it presents certain challenges in his daily life. It presents many challenges in parenting. His verbal acuity affects him socially with his peers and as he interacts with adults and authority figures.
We also need to know if there is anything else going on... And this neurological/psychological work up should give us that information. We had a very good meeting today and we felt comforted that in the initial assessment Asperger's does not seem to be likely, nor does Oppositional Defiant Disorder (according to the doctor). Perhaps it is merely this verbal ability that makes our lives a challenge.
I think of other parents I know who are just at the beginning of this journey - seeing their child exhibit these incredible skills very early in their lives (Em knew his alphabet cold - backward and forward - by 18 months. He read by age 3.) and I think how proud we were back then, not realizing the struggle to manage the gift. Be Prepared. These children are tough and we didn't see the responsibility of this ability early on. We struggle with it and we continue to try to do right by our child.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Going Home Again: Marilyn
I really love This American Life on NPR. This past week, the show was called Return to Childhood and it was all about people trying to revisit something from their growing up years. The story that resonated with me was Ich Bin Ein Mophead:
I had a babysitter growing up who was so much fun and with us so often - she was unlike any sitter you can imagine. Marilyn. My mother said she showed up on our doorstep at the age of 11 with handmade business cards which said, "Babysitting" and gave her telephone number. She provided references. She had long black hair that was board straight and parted squarely down the middle. She always wore Levi's Jeans (faded and fitted) and plaid shirts. She had parties in her backyard for all the kids she sat. She had a metal shelving unit in her garage that contained every board game and fun toy from her own childhood, all in perfect condition as she took such good care of her toys. She went on vacations with us. She loved Bobby Sherman and Ringo Starr and read Young Miss magazine. Does anyone remember Young Miss? She gave me old copies of the magazines as she had saved them all - again in mint condition.
She never talked on the phone, she never lost her patience or her temper and she was always focused 100% on my brother and me. She let us eat our spaghetti outside on the swingset and we made garlic toast with lots of butter and lots of McCormick's garlic salt. We would sing, "That's they way uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh uh-huh" and laugh and dance around our kitchen.
Once, I was invited up to Austin to visit and stay with her in her dorm room after she went off to UT. She lived in Kinsolving Dorm. She bragged and bragged on me to all her coed friends, how cute I was, how close we were. I can vividly remember my trip home to San Antonio after that weekend. I was disconsolate, depressed and utterly empty. I think that may have been the first time I ever felt those emotions and they were powerfully strong. I had had such a good time with those college girls in their college dorm. And we felt absolutely safe with Marilyn.
Unlike the man in the story, Marilyn has stayed in my life. I went to her wedding (and my brother was a member of her wedding party). And recently she found me on Facebook. When we first left New York and went back to San Antonio for a time, she found me there and I drove up to Austin with Emery to see her. Emery was a little baby. She made a delicious homemade lunch. She came to my wedding in 1997 and true to her style, the wedding gift she gave us was Laurel's Kitchen, a hippie classic cookbook of vegetarian, wholesome recipes.
Hearing the story on This American Life took me back to my babysitter, who I loved and still love today.
Laurel's Kitchen:
http://www.amazon.com/New-Laurels-Kitchen-Vegetarian-Nutrition/dp/089815166X
http://www.thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?episode=351
This American Life producer Alex Blumberg sets out to find a woman named
Susan Jordan, who babysat him and his sister for a year when he was nine. He
discovers that each of them remembered something about the other that the other
would just as soon forget.
I had a babysitter growing up who was so much fun and with us so often - she was unlike any sitter you can imagine. Marilyn. My mother said she showed up on our doorstep at the age of 11 with handmade business cards which said, "Babysitting" and gave her telephone number. She provided references. She had long black hair that was board straight and parted squarely down the middle. She always wore Levi's Jeans (faded and fitted) and plaid shirts. She had parties in her backyard for all the kids she sat. She had a metal shelving unit in her garage that contained every board game and fun toy from her own childhood, all in perfect condition as she took such good care of her toys. She went on vacations with us. She loved Bobby Sherman and Ringo Starr and read Young Miss magazine. Does anyone remember Young Miss? She gave me old copies of the magazines as she had saved them all - again in mint condition.
She never talked on the phone, she never lost her patience or her temper and she was always focused 100% on my brother and me. She let us eat our spaghetti outside on the swingset and we made garlic toast with lots of butter and lots of McCormick's garlic salt. We would sing, "That's they way uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh uh-huh" and laugh and dance around our kitchen.
Once, I was invited up to Austin to visit and stay with her in her dorm room after she went off to UT. She lived in Kinsolving Dorm. She bragged and bragged on me to all her coed friends, how cute I was, how close we were. I can vividly remember my trip home to San Antonio after that weekend. I was disconsolate, depressed and utterly empty. I think that may have been the first time I ever felt those emotions and they were powerfully strong. I had had such a good time with those college girls in their college dorm. And we felt absolutely safe with Marilyn.
Unlike the man in the story, Marilyn has stayed in my life. I went to her wedding (and my brother was a member of her wedding party). And recently she found me on Facebook. When we first left New York and went back to San Antonio for a time, she found me there and I drove up to Austin with Emery to see her. Emery was a little baby. She made a delicious homemade lunch. She came to my wedding in 1997 and true to her style, the wedding gift she gave us was Laurel's Kitchen, a hippie classic cookbook of vegetarian, wholesome recipes.
Hearing the story on This American Life took me back to my babysitter, who I loved and still love today.
Laurel's Kitchen:
http://www.amazon.com/New-Laurels-Kitchen-Vegetarian-Nutrition/dp/089815166X
Monday, March 17, 2008
Emery's Blog - HOUSE!
Emery has started to blog (http://slimjackrabbit.blogspot.com/). I had the idea on a walk one day. He doesn't much like to write (pen to paper - the act of writing) and he struggles a little with fine motor skills. He writes slowly... but he loves to type! I think this will be great fun for him.
Doug spent all day yesterday removing all the shoes, air rockets, rain boots, terrainiacs and gobstoppers (they have this remote control thing that works itself into a ball and rolls around the yard and I cannot think of the name of it). I am going to document the progress. It's very exciting!
Work began on the house today. By the time the boys and I get home all the decking will be removed from the back of the house. And it's a lot of decking:
Doug spent all day yesterday removing all the shoes, air rockets, rain boots, terrainiacs and gobstoppers (they have this remote control thing that works itself into a ball and rolls around the yard and I cannot think of the name of it). I am going to document the progress. It's very exciting!Sunday, March 16, 2008
Palm Sunday!
Today is Palm Sunday - the beginning of Holy Week. I love Easter - it is my favorite observance. I love the story and the drama of this week and it also makes me profoundly sad. At church this morning all the children carried palm fronds and sang with the choir, "Hosannah Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord! Hosannah! Hosannah! Blessed is He that comes!"
We will go to church for Maundy Thursday and take communion. Then we will have a Tenebrae service - or the extinguishing of the light - symbolizing the darkness and aimlessness of Good Friday. We will awake Easter Morn and be so grateful, so happy that the light has returned! Resurrection! New Life!
I don't believe Jesus is the ONLY light, but he's the light most apparent and present to me.
Toward the end of our service today we left the jubilation of Jesus' grand entrance to Jerusalem and started toward Good Friday, reading the Passion Story. This story chokes me up the way hearing about an abused animal or child wrenches my heart. I feel physically ill at the torture and abuse of innocents. And so I feel that way about Jesus being mocked, spat on, beaten and tortured. It is almost too much to stand.
Matthew 27
24When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. "I am innocent of this man's blood," he said. "It is your responsibility!"
25All the people answered, "Let his blood be on us and on our children!"
26Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.
27Then the governor's soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. 28They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, 29and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand and knelt in front of him and mocked him. "Hail, king of the Jews!" they said. 30They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. 31After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
32As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. 33They came to a place called Golgotha (which means The Place of the Skull). 34There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. 35When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots.[b] 36And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. 37Above his head they placed the written charge against him: THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS. 38Two robbers were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left. 39Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads 40and saying, "You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!"
41In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. 42"He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! He's the King of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. 43He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, 'I am the Son of God.' " 44In the same way the robbers who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him.
45From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. 46About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi,[c] lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"[d]
47When some of those standing there heard this, they said, "He's calling Elijah."
48Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. 49The rest said, "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to save him."
50And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.
51At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. 52The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. 53They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.
54When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son[e] of God!"
55Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs. 56Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's sons.
57As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. 58Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus' body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. 59Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, 60and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. 61Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.
We will go to church for Maundy Thursday and take communion. Then we will have a Tenebrae service - or the extinguishing of the light - symbolizing the darkness and aimlessness of Good Friday. We will awake Easter Morn and be so grateful, so happy that the light has returned! Resurrection! New Life!
I don't believe Jesus is the ONLY light, but he's the light most apparent and present to me.
Toward the end of our service today we left the jubilation of Jesus' grand entrance to Jerusalem and started toward Good Friday, reading the Passion Story. This story chokes me up the way hearing about an abused animal or child wrenches my heart. I feel physically ill at the torture and abuse of innocents. And so I feel that way about Jesus being mocked, spat on, beaten and tortured. It is almost too much to stand.
Matthew 27
24When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. "I am innocent of this man's blood," he said. "It is your responsibility!"
25All the people answered, "Let his blood be on us and on our children!"
26Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.
27Then the governor's soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. 28They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, 29and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand and knelt in front of him and mocked him. "Hail, king of the Jews!" they said. 30They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. 31After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.
32As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. 33They came to a place called Golgotha (which means The Place of the Skull). 34There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. 35When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots.[b] 36And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. 37Above his head they placed the written charge against him: THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS. 38Two robbers were crucified with him, one on his right and one on his left. 39Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads 40and saying, "You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you are the Son of God!"
41In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. 42"He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! He's the King of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. 43He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, 'I am the Son of God.' " 44In the same way the robbers who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him.
45From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. 46About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi,[c] lama sabachthani?"—which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"[d]
47When some of those standing there heard this, they said, "He's calling Elijah."
48Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. 49The rest said, "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to save him."
50And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.
51At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split. 52The tombs broke open and the bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. 53They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus' resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.
54When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, "Surely he was the Son[e] of God!"
55Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs. 56Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and the mother of Zebedee's sons.
57As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. 58Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus' body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. 59Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, 60and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. 61Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
More about kids
Em is always making up jokes - and they're pretty good even if I am his mother. He also does a perfect R. Seacrest impersonation saying, "THIS is American Idol!"
But this afternoon he came to me and said, "Mom, I have a joke for you. Who wrote a pig version of Dracula?" I said, "Who?" and he said, "Ham Stoker!"
Ok, that's pretty good.
But this afternoon he came to me and said, "Mom, I have a joke for you. Who wrote a pig version of Dracula?" I said, "Who?" and he said, "Ham Stoker!"
Ok, that's pretty good.
The Angel Sings
My oldest son, having added Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" to his iPod, is sitting next to me with his headphones on, singing this incredible song in his child voice.
Priceless.
And in the middle of singing this incredible song he yawned like a sleepy babe.
Oh. My. Lord. Thank you God.
Happy Birthday Billy Crystal!
Mike sent us a text message last night saying that he was at Billy Crystal's birthday party. Bastard. He did the press for Mr. Crystal's one man Broadway show. I thought it was cool that he was there, but I didn't think *that* much of it b/c she's always going and doing that. It could just as easily been Liza or Robert Goulet (I mean, if Mr. Goulet were still celebrating birthdays here on earth).
But later in the evening he sent a text msg saying, "Okay. Just had an hour conversation with barbara walters -- wow. And now sitting 2 seats down from robin williams and 9 seats away from billy c and directly across from r deniro. Around a square tabel of 40 with an empty square n the middle. This is truly amazing. Life is good. XoxoMH"
So, that was a little more impressive.
I can't help but picture our children, in a few years, flying out to see their Godfather and meeting people like this. They have charmed lives.
But later in the evening he sent a text msg saying, "Okay. Just had an hour conversation with barbara walters -- wow. And now sitting 2 seats down from robin williams and 9 seats away from billy c and directly across from r deniro. Around a square tabel of 40 with an empty square n the middle. This is truly amazing. Life is good. XoxoMH"
So, that was a little more impressive.
I can't help but picture our children, in a few years, flying out to see their Godfather and meeting people like this. They have charmed lives.
I also kept picturing Mike at this party surreptitiously texting people, not wanting to let on that he was texting accolades and disbelief. Very cute and silly of her.
I know I wrote at some point recently that he had dinner with Bill Moyers (one of my heroes, a fellow Texan and a University of Texas alum).
Baby Girl is still a mess though, no matter who he parties with. She is such a mess, she better not leave me a MESSage.
I know I wrote at some point recently that he had dinner with Bill Moyers (one of my heroes, a fellow Texan and a University of Texas alum).
Baby Girl is still a mess though, no matter who he parties with. She is such a mess, she better not leave me a MESSage.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Character is Destiny
I have started a book recommended by the school called, "Building Moral Intelligence" by Michele Borba. The Foreword cites The Altruistic Personality, the most extensive study ever conducted of people who rescued Jews from the Holocaust. The people they interviewed and studied didn't consider themselves heroes, they just referred to the way they were raised and said they did what had to be done.
The premise of the book is that we have to teach our children to have moral fiber - we can model it but we also have to give them some tools. I am trying to implement this, as the book directs, taking an interrogative approach rather than a didactic one.
I usually TELL him how I think he should behave: Respectfully, Kindly, Deferentially. But how would that LOOK? So, as the book suggests, I began asking him, "What could the older students in your class do to show respect to your teacher while she is handling the class on her own?" (one of the teachers is out due to a death in the family). "How could you show kindness to someone who can't hear?"
I also got the bright idea yesterday to have Em start a blog. He doesn't like to put pen to paper, but he does like to type. So he's begun blogging: http://slimjackrabbit.blogspot.com/
I think this will be an excellent way for him to journal and write down his thoughts and actions. We'll see!
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Hot Mess
Amy Poehler's impression of Christian Siriano from Project Runway was BRRRRRilliant. Absolutely. What a mess she is. Tranny mess. Hot tranny mess. She's a bigger mess than the Messesseppi River. She's a mess in a dress. She needs to go to the Mess Hall. Actually the Mess Hall of Fame.
Cat Fancy
This is very funny - sent to me by M. Hartman...
Excerpts from a Dog's Diary......
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Excerpts from a Cat's Daily Diary . ..
Day 983 of my captivity.
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am. Bastards.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in a elevated cell, so he is safe.
For now................
Sunday, March 09, 2008
5th Sunday in Lent
Easter is upon us and I wrestle daily with my impatience and short temper. How can I engage differently on a day-to-day basis in my family life? It's so hard to imagine, before one has children, how one's patience is going to be tested, particularly if one is the type of person who needs some silence to think and some time during the day to oneself.
It all seems so much easier when they nap and simply throw a fit if they are unhappy. The constant negotiating wearns me down and we cultivate in them an interest in the world, and yet when they want to tell me all that they are thinking about I get overwhelmed. It's overwhelming, the amount of information a child processes in a day. To take it all in is exhausting.
I put this here to myself: I am not a short-tempered person. I am not an angry parent. I am a good parent full of patience and generosity toward my children. I want to hear all their thoughts and ideas. And I have the time to do it all - time for them, for me, for work, for light-heartedness, for my marriage, for chores and tasks that need attention - I can do it all.
It all seems so much easier when they nap and simply throw a fit if they are unhappy. The constant negotiating wearns me down and we cultivate in them an interest in the world, and yet when they want to tell me all that they are thinking about I get overwhelmed. It's overwhelming, the amount of information a child processes in a day. To take it all in is exhausting.
I put this here to myself: I am not a short-tempered person. I am not an angry parent. I am a good parent full of patience and generosity toward my children. I want to hear all their thoughts and ideas. And I have the time to do it all - time for them, for me, for work, for light-heartedness, for my marriage, for chores and tasks that need attention - I can do it all.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Free & Clear, Free & Clear, Thank God Almighty
We own both our cars outright! No more car payments! What joy!
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Statements of Faith
I am mentoring a girl going through confirmation at our church and I meet with her every few weeks to work on projects together as she goes through this year-long confirmation process. In our UCC church, she will decide at the end of that time some of the things she believes at this time in her life, things she doesn't believe, whether or not she wants to be baptized in the chilly Tolt River and whether or not she wants to join the church.
Our current assignment is one of the most important - writing a statement of faith. While she writes hers, I am writing mine. I love the Apostles Creed, but it's not all of the things that I hold dear as the absolute tenets of my faith.
Here is the Apostles' Creed:
I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.
And in Jesus Christ his only Son our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; he descended into hell; the third day he rose again from the dead; he ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Ghost; the holy catholic Church; the communion of saints; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting. AMEN.
Here are my first few statements:
I believe in the perfect, absolute, parental love from God the Parent (sometimes Father)
I believe Jesus was A Son of God and that Jesus is the lens through which I see God best.
I believe in the perfect birth, the violence of the crucifixion and most importantly the redeeming resurrection of Jesus.
I believe in the Grace of God; that he forgives implicitly, completely and has no memory of my sins.
...Fry It Up in a Pan
I have an amazing husband. He does more housework than me, and at least equal child care. Turns out, this may work to his advantage:
Men who do housework may get more sex
By DAVID CRARY, AP National Writer
NEW YORK - American men still don't pull their weight when it comes to housework and child care, but collectively they're not the slackers they used to be. The average dad has gradually been getting better about picking himself up off the sofa and pitching in, according to a new report in which a psychologist suggests the payoff for doing more chores could be more sex.
The report, released Thursday by the Council on Contemporary Families, summarizes several recent studies on family dynamics. One found that men's contribution to housework had doubled over the past four decades; another found they tripled the time spent on child care over that span.
"If a guy does housework, it looks to the woman like he really cares about her — he's not treating her like a servant," said Coleman, who is affiliated with the Council on Contemporary Families. "And if a woman feels stressed out because the house is a mess and the guy's sitting on the couch while she's vacuuming, that's not going to put her in the mood."
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Undead Andy & Robert Smigel & Boleyn Girls
We watched SNL last night (I DVR'd it) and we let Emery watch with us. It was just about the funniest SNL we had seen in a long time. One of our greatest joys as parents is to see how sophisticated our son's sense of humor is. He loved the Robert Smigel short.
Monday, March 03, 2008
As Racist As We Are Sexist
It's not often that I feel the need to correct myself - but I've been saying something, a little pompously, about this election that is, perhaps, slightly erroneous. I've been quoting Bill Maher to the tune of, as a nation 'we are more sexist than racist.'
But, I just finished reading an article in the New Yorker about a trial on Long Island that really set me back and caused me to remember that there are areas of this country that are still segregated, bigoted and closed-minded; and they aren't all in the south.
If you have a chance check out:
The Color of Blood
Racial tensions and a killing in the suburbs.
In the March 3rd Issue.
But, I just finished reading an article in the New Yorker about a trial on Long Island that really set me back and caused me to remember that there are areas of this country that are still segregated, bigoted and closed-minded; and they aren't all in the south.
If you have a chance check out:
The Color of Blood
Racial tensions and a killing in the suburbs.
In the March 3rd Issue.
Woodinville made the news, and Crisis What Crisis in Healthcare?
Apparently, Woodinville made the national news (http://news.search.yahoo.com/search/news;_ylt=A0WTTkhfx81HsE0AmjLQtDMD;_ylu=X3oDMTBhNjRqazhxBHNlYwNzZWFyY2g-?p=woodinville+fires&c=&fr=sfp&ei=UTF-8&x=wrt).
Fires set by arsonists from the Earth Liberation Front destroyed three homes in a 'Street of Dreams' development in our town. Two other homes have smoke damage. The homes were unoccupied, according the The Olympian online.
These homes were built using 'Built Green' standards but someone didn't agree. I think it's very intersting that a woman named Briana Waters is on trial right now for a fire bombing at UW associated with ELF and this arson happens in Woodinville at the same time. I guess I think it is interesting because these are homes priced in the millions, the real estate market is slow, the economy is in a downturn and someone torches these houses and leaves a sign at the scene denoting ELF involvement. Hmmmm...
Meanwhile, we got our blood boiling last night watching a story on 60 Minutes about RAM: Remote Area Medical. This is a non-profit group that typically goes to remote areas of the world (think Africa, Asia) to provide medical care for those who cannot gain acceess to such care. But guess what? They are doing more and more of their weekend clinics right here in the richest nation in the world, Our Very Own: United States of America. Why, we ask? How is it that a set-up designed for third-world countries is necessary here?
Fires set by arsonists from the Earth Liberation Front destroyed three homes in a 'Street of Dreams' development in our town. Two other homes have smoke damage. The homes were unoccupied, according the The Olympian online.
These homes were built using 'Built Green' standards but someone didn't agree. I think it's very intersting that a woman named Briana Waters is on trial right now for a fire bombing at UW associated with ELF and this arson happens in Woodinville at the same time. I guess I think it is interesting because these are homes priced in the millions, the real estate market is slow, the economy is in a downturn and someone torches these houses and leaves a sign at the scene denoting ELF involvement. Hmmmm...
Meanwhile, we got our blood boiling last night watching a story on 60 Minutes about RAM: Remote Area Medical. This is a non-profit group that typically goes to remote areas of the world (think Africa, Asia) to provide medical care for those who cannot gain acceess to such care. But guess what? They are doing more and more of their weekend clinics right here in the richest nation in the world, Our Very Own: United States of America. Why, we ask? How is it that a set-up designed for third-world countries is necessary here?
Saturday, March 01, 2008
"But will it change my wife?" - Annie Hall
I love my life. I mean I really love my life. I love everything about it. I love where I live, where I drive each day, the structure of our family, our church, the grocery store where I shop, how I drive to work (and how little time it takes me to get there), the flexibility of my schedule. And to go even deeper: my kids and the ages they are right now (so fun), my husband and how dynamic and interesting he is, how funny and smart he is... Wow. I love my life. I am so incredibly blessed.
I was just driving back from the grocery store and thinking about how much I love my life made me speak it out loud. That happens with some regularity. And then I asked aloud, "I say I love my life and really own that, why am I afraid it will be taken away?" I often feel a sense of terror on the heels of feeling incredible gratitude for my life's circumstances. It's as if God isn't noticing my abundance until I open my big mouth and then all of a sudden He (or It or what have you) sees that I have too much. I got too big a helping of the main course and the universe will have to right that and exercise some portion control making it even-Steven. We can't have Paige so full of herself.
Where does that notion come from? Why would I be afraid to thank God for all the blessings in my life? Why do I think I fly under the radar unnoticed if I am happy and feeling good? Do I really think that God exists only to pity me but not to rejoice with me? Do I really think God hands out portions? Or do I actually believe that I claim my piece of the pie... That I am responsible for some of this... That is what I believe, but this other insidious notion skulks in and sits in the corner just waiting until I feel so lucky, grateful, overwhelmed by my good fortune. Then BAM, like a 2x4.
It's one of the things I'd like to eliminate. I feel a lot like the character Annie Hall, (remember this?) having just seen The Sorrow and the Pity (I paraphrase):
Annie Hall: that movie makes me feel guilty
Alvy Singer (Woody): It's supposed to
Annie Hall: Sometimes I ask myself how I'd stand up under torture.
Alvy Singer: You? You kiddin'? If the Gestapo would take away your Bloomingdale's charge card, you'd tell 'em everything.
I guess my feeling of fear at the luck and blessings of my life (I say luck, b/c there's a certain luck in being born white in America, for instance) is also a fear that if something terrible happened to me I wouldn't be the kind of person who feels gratitude anymore. I'd crack and descend into feelings of self-pity and woe-is-me. And I don't know that that's true, but I fear it.
I was just driving back from the grocery store and thinking about how much I love my life made me speak it out loud. That happens with some regularity. And then I asked aloud, "I say I love my life and really own that, why am I afraid it will be taken away?" I often feel a sense of terror on the heels of feeling incredible gratitude for my life's circumstances. It's as if God isn't noticing my abundance until I open my big mouth and then all of a sudden He (or It or what have you) sees that I have too much. I got too big a helping of the main course and the universe will have to right that and exercise some portion control making it even-Steven. We can't have Paige so full of herself.
Where does that notion come from? Why would I be afraid to thank God for all the blessings in my life? Why do I think I fly under the radar unnoticed if I am happy and feeling good? Do I really think that God exists only to pity me but not to rejoice with me? Do I really think God hands out portions? Or do I actually believe that I claim my piece of the pie... That I am responsible for some of this... That is what I believe, but this other insidious notion skulks in and sits in the corner just waiting until I feel so lucky, grateful, overwhelmed by my good fortune. Then BAM, like a 2x4.
It's one of the things I'd like to eliminate. I feel a lot like the character Annie Hall, (remember this?) having just seen The Sorrow and the Pity (I paraphrase):
Annie Hall: that movie makes me feel guilty
Alvy Singer (Woody): It's supposed to
Annie Hall: Sometimes I ask myself how I'd stand up under torture.
Alvy Singer: You? You kiddin'? If the Gestapo would take away your Bloomingdale's charge card, you'd tell 'em everything.
I guess my feeling of fear at the luck and blessings of my life (I say luck, b/c there's a certain luck in being born white in America, for instance) is also a fear that if something terrible happened to me I wouldn't be the kind of person who feels gratitude anymore. I'd crack and descend into feelings of self-pity and woe-is-me. And I don't know that that's true, but I fear it.
Work Begins on the House
Our contractor just called and wants to bump up our start date on the construction to mid-March (was mid-April)!!! We are thilled!
Tune in a Suitcase
Nearly every time I back out of my driveway I think of my Granny who, when she backed out, would weave back and forth from one side of the driveway to the other. Our driveway is deceptive. It looks like it's a straight shot but there are actually some curves. This is what always got Granny. She'd overcompensate.There was no compensation for her singing voice. Granny refused to sing. She really couldn't carry a tune and was absolutely tone deaf. I don't know how this happens. I always think everyone could at least hit the melody. But not Granny. We would let her off the hook for that and still encourage her to sing, noting the 100th Psalm:
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands!
Serve the Lord with gladness: come before His presence with singing!
But she wouldn't do it. She said that once, as a child, her family were gathered round the piano singing together and she asked her father (and she said it exactly this way), "What do I sing?" To which he replied, "If you could sing anything, it would be Alto."
New Urbanism
So we didn't end up seeing No Country for Old Men last night b/c the movie theater didn't get it's print. So frustrating. Instead we went to the bookstore and then got a bite to eat at Russell's (http://rdlcatering.com/russells/loft.html).
We got Em the 4th Harry Potter and I got The Lovely Bones and then we looked at house books. Our home now is between 1600 and 1700 sq. ft. With the addition, we will add on close to 1,000 sq. ft. - still not a huge house. But, the space will be very utilitarian (in the best, and most usable sense of that word). We have read a book our Architect recommended that seemed to fit our vision. It's The Not So Big House by Sarah Susanka (http://www.notsobighouse.com/index.asp). She has links to other sites which discuss New Urbanism, sustainability, green building practices and something she calls 'cultural creatives'. It seems that is what Doug and I are.
Reading about New Urbanism makes me realize that Everything old is new again. Al Gore probably feels a little exasperated at how long it has taken us, but it's amazing to see a shift in thinking toward sustainable building practices, walking instead of driving and building a sense of community - literally. By building sidewalks and community spaces we encourage ourselves and each other to be in relationship and to need that sense of community.
(see Cottage Company: http://www.cottagecompany.com/index.html)
We got Em the 4th Harry Potter and I got The Lovely Bones and then we looked at house books. Our home now is between 1600 and 1700 sq. ft. With the addition, we will add on close to 1,000 sq. ft. - still not a huge house. But, the space will be very utilitarian (in the best, and most usable sense of that word). We have read a book our Architect recommended that seemed to fit our vision. It's The Not So Big House by Sarah Susanka (http://www.notsobighouse.com/index.asp). She has links to other sites which discuss New Urbanism, sustainability, green building practices and something she calls 'cultural creatives'. It seems that is what Doug and I are.
Doug and I picture ourselves in this house for the rest of our lives (maybe in retirement it will be in this house part-time and somewhere warmer part-time). That informs all the choices we make for architecture, construction and design."If you start with the design of your own home, making it a place that fits your
lifestyle, you'll be making a small but noticeable contribution to solving the
current crisis of scale and consumption. "
Reading about New Urbanism makes me realize that Everything old is new again. Al Gore probably feels a little exasperated at how long it has taken us, but it's amazing to see a shift in thinking toward sustainable building practices, walking instead of driving and building a sense of community - literally. By building sidewalks and community spaces we encourage ourselves and each other to be in relationship and to need that sense of community.
(see Cottage Company: http://www.cottagecompany.com/index.html)
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