Head surfacing after… stuff

I’m sure that moving and the holidays and setting up a house could have a better name than stuff. But from a blog’s point of view (poor little blog) everything that keeps the blogger away is just non-blogging stuff. So tonight, stuff be gone!

Having said that, hope that my friend Karen doesn’t mind if I steal from my letter to her to post. :P

We’re settling in to Kokomo just fine. One of the greatest uncertainties about coming back was a job for dad, and after a prayerful wait of a couple of weeks, the Lord very mercifully gave Dad his old job at the Rescue Mission back, so we’re rejoicing over that!! As for the rent house that we found while in Scotland – we really like it! We’ve been moved in for a week now (just in time to get some crazy Christmasations up and swoop on some gifts from Target!). We have been busy setting things up in kitchen and bedrooms and yard, even raking up the winter leaves has been fun (it let me meet the neighbors’ rottweiler across the fence, whew!).

Does it feel as if we never left? Hmm, I guess that one gets a traditional yes and no. Yes the crackers in Kroger are just where we let them (and there was great rejoicing), and Mom and Dad, who drove in Scotland, have marvelously switched right back into driving on the right over here. I’m actually the one who keeps trying to get into the wrong side of the car, I think I got more set in my ways than I realized! Other things I think will just take a little more time, I’ll have to weed out the word ‘trousers’ in favor of ‘pants,’ which makes me feel like I’m saying ‘underwear’ now!

Anywho, the Lord has brought so many numerous things together that we couldn’t have, every day wakes with more blessings, we feel that the Lord has brought us in His own time to the place He wants us to be, and we want it too.

Merry

Christmas


a day late.





Life is good.




Kokomo is good.




Eggnog is good.





And God is good.










Ain't it so?!

Precious

All the precious things in my life today couldn’t possibly fit in this post, but I'll let you in on a few. I went to school today and the sun was shining. Sunlight is precious because only God can make it.

Yesterday I spent a wonderful wonderful day with mom. She has been wanting to come to uni with me one day, so we sallied out to hunt down Macintosh architecture, and Willow Tea Room tea. A precious time with us two girls.

[Plot Spoiler: I do in fact have very important news for those of you who haven’t heard, so prepare yourselves. But truth be told, I haven’t time to explain it in detail, do also go to Amy’s blog to get another wee spin.]

Things that are numbered are precious, and so are my days at Glasgow, in Coatbridge, and in Scotland. That’s right, we Jonses, we all of us five, are coming back to the states soon. in December. before Christmas. (Again, see Amy) surprise or no, we are headed back, and my days remaining here are quickly going.

While walking up the hill at uni this morning, I realized that today is precious as well – my last day to be a teenager. Mañana por la mañana (tomorrow in the morning), I will have been here two decades (and at long last I’ll have a use for all my fingers and toes to tell my age!).

But on better reflection, it’s clear that today was precious for a lot more than that – sunshine, tea, fingers and toes being all very well. Today I got on the subway and got to open the infallible word of God, today He preserved me in heath and brought me through his beautiful creation on the train, today I went to His psalms and they ministered to my soul. What could be more precious than living with Him for today?

What shall I render to the LORD
For all His benefits toward me?
I shall lift up the cup of salvation
And call upon the name of the LORD.
I shall pay my vows to the LORD,
Oh may it be in the presence of all His people.
Precious in the sight of the LORD
Is the death of His godly ones.
O LORD, surely I am Your servant,
I am Your servant, the son of Your handmaid,
You have loosed my bonds.

Psalm 116:12-16

Snappy snaps of the distant past

Well, sortof. I wish to share with you the photo saga of a day in the life of Cabbage (subtitled A Slug of UG). A couple of Thursdays ago I thought I’d bring Ben’s camera along to school and see what kind of pictures come out. Fuzzy ones, let me tell you. This is just a sliver of my travels too and fro, hopefully the captions will tell you everything you need to know. And just to add some spice to your pepper, I’ve organized the photos to a poem by Robert Louis Stevenson, one of the gentlemen whom I’ve been studying in Scottish Lit this semester (oh pardon, I mean one of the gentlepeople – lets be politically correct in our saga). I would recommend reading through just the titles first, to get the poetry.

So enjoy…

if you dare.

The Wind Blew Shrill And Smart

by Robert Louis Stevenson

The wind blew shrill and smart,

A wind of bacon usually greets
me at 8:30 breakfast, thanks mom.

And the wind awoke my heart

my absoulte favorite view each morning
from the station, special even in the grayness

Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea.

the bus sailing along, my first form of transportation

To hear the cordage moan

These days on the bus route it's
traffic lights that make us moan,
I haven't noticed any cordage anywhere...

And the straining timbers groan,

Now this picture was deliberatly fuzzy. Whenever the
bus is late I have to run to the train station, so here I'm

definitely straining my timbers.

And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee.

Coatdyke Train Station with the
08:59 pulling in

O sailor of the fleet,

This dude isn't feeling very fleet!
I felt sorry for him nodding off like he did, but
not sorry enough to keep from taking his picture. :P

It is time to stir the feet!

My train ride ends in Partick Station, Glasgow
where I head down 2 stories...

It's time to man the dingy and to row!

to the subway

It's lay your hand in mine

this is it, folks - Glasgow West End in a nutshell
coffee, chatting, smoaking, and Greggs

And it's empty down the wine,

no, that isn't a glass in my hand
What I really need before Scottish Literature class
is a big Mountain Dew.
Hey, at least I'm here.

And it's drain a health to death before we go!

This is Hugh
he wrote poems
He watches over us every Friday
and his head's on fire.
Fear the Hugh. Fear.

To death, my lads, we sail;

I rather like my wee pack lunches
but I do agree that there's somethng morbid
in the peals of a halved banana
Oh well, sail away, sail away, sail away...

And it's death that blows the gale

I'll never forget the professor who told me
"Go behind the Adams Smith building,
You'll recognize it because it looks like the Gaza Strip!"
::snort: There's always construction around U of G
and diverting our attention to posters doesn't really help.

And death that holds the tiller as we ride.

as we ride... downtown?
A view of south campus

For he's the king of all

Jack doesn't like pictures, so here he is.
He might be considered the king of our theatre
'cause he's usually brilliant ...
if he weren't so sleepy. Poor Jack.

In the tempest and the squall,

No, no squall in the Partick station again,
just a Cabbage rolling off the escalator

And the ruler of the Ocean wild and wide!

A last view of the uni from the train

Well, that's the last of the poem, but here are a few more pictures from the day.

Some shots from the steps of the Department of Scottish Lit





And one picture boldly taken during lit class. Apparently the paintings around the wall are ment to inspire us to greatness at 10 am in the morning.
If you call Hugh MacDiarmid's flaming head an inspiration you must be hard core Scot Lit!

Merry Thanksgiv' to all

and to all a good night

Ecological impact of beavers Castor fiber and Castor canadensis and their ability to modify ecosystems.

this was one of the recommended articles that a database brought up when I typed in 'scotland' 'landscape' and 'literature'


i love research

I think that I shall never see

a poem as lovely as a tree







Aspen on Cedar Mountain, Utah

the word

Thus says the LORD, "Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD,"

Jeremiah 9:23-24a.

I love my sister

she gives me cranberries

Your MOM posts!

More than you do, apparently. You wonder if it’s because she doesn’t have to read the worlds longest Highland romance portraying an insipid hero (enter Waverly), but then you realist that its your mom – she does everything.

Anywho. Apart from the glories of Walter Scott I’ve been exploring other literary wonders as well. On Monday I fell off the face of the earth to prepare for a James Hogg presentation that I perhaps should have started sooner. On Thursday I had to give a 10 minute presentation with two other students (we were unofficially called “the Hogg people” which fortunately didn’t reflect on our intelligence) and after talking with one of them and hearing of her uber-preparedness I was kindof nervous.

Anywho, after several midnights of coffee and Horlicks (don’t snort until you have tried this powder of destiny yourself – sleep helping, woo badger!) the final copy was printed exactly .29 minutes before I had to walk out the door. Needless to say that hurry didn’t help my jitters and my notes written on the train weren’t really legible at all. But I felt a little better when we all sat down and presenters and audience alike coughed the same choke-snort-cough thing. These weren’t the guys to tear into me. The long and short of it was that the Lord was really gracious helping me write and present, and our tutor was well impressed (as an Irish gal said it).

And now we’re in the throws of theatre class as well, and I’ve been to two of my five required plays for this semester. This was something that I wasn’t really counting on when I signed up for the class (perhaps I envisioned the class analyzing popsicle sticks, who knows). It’s not so bad going to see plays that someone else picked out, it’s spending 6 pounds and 3 hours on them that gets me huffy at times.

Our first play was Mary Stuart a big whoppin 3 hour thing with 19 century dialogue, but it was good! Fascinating take on British history and all that. I can’t say that I enjoyed the second play as much – too many wigs and interpretive dance there.

Someday I’ll put up some pictures of Oxford y Londres just as king James did (or is that prince Jim??) but for tonight I leave you with a bit from an old Oxford resident

"'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound."

"I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie:
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Old had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet by [eating the owl.]

The Voice of the Lobster,
Lewis Carol

ur such a bad influence on me

‘Cause I really could be typing out notes about how The Memoirs and Private Confessions of a Justified Sinner (written, no less, by a man named James Hogg!) is in fact a superb physiological novel displaying the mixed mediums of folklore and the supernatural.

Du duh?

Yup, but what I’m actually do with my time is show you a bit of the homework that I’ve already completed. I was told by James and Mr. Evan had to complete an assignment for Spanish class about his dream date. Well today I’m gonna turn in an assignment about “Mi Ex,” and so y’all all will have to tell me what you think of him.

Mi Ex
por Candace Jones
Antes salía con Ghengis Kahn. Porque el ha vivido una infancia nómada, nunca le gusta quedar en la casa de mis padres. Siempre montaba a mi jardín en un caballo negro, daba una patada a la puerta, y gruñía a mi hermanito. Pero hablaba cortés a mi padre porque lo consideraba un aliado importante.
El me llevaba a cenar y hacer algo (siempre prefería polo o squash a golf!). Cuando íbamos al cine, generalmente estaba inquieto y cada cinco minutos se levantaba a traer las palomitas de maíz.
De vez en cuando me pedía que yo cocine algo especial, y Kahn siempre quería carne fresco, queso de cabra, y café viejo (este consideraba una delicadeza).
Me caía a el porque era generoso, muy leal, y un protector excelente. Una noche yo estaba en pie en la acera mientras Kahn compraba un haggis en una carnicería. Un atracador corrió a mí y me apuntó con una pistola. De repente, Kahn volvió a la calle, lo golpeó el atracador con su bolso (que normalmente tenía dos o tres barras de oro), y me trajo a un café.
Un día pedí Kahn, “¿De dónde eres?” Pero solamente él sonrió y dijo, “Una gitana se le cayo una jaca negra del cielo, pero cuando tocó la arena de Mongolia, se desplomó y se hizo un niño, y el niño era me.”

Found any grammer errors yet? Well too late! It goes in the drop box (or pidgin holes as they are more colourfully called here) in 5 minutes. In case the name peeked your interest I’ll include the translation…

My Ex

I used to go out with Ghengis Kahn. Since he had lived a nomadic childhood, he never liked to stay long in my parents house. He always rode up on a black horse, kicked the door, and growled at my brother. But he spoke courteously to my father since he considered him a valuable ally.
He would take me to eat and do something, and he always preferred bumper cars to golf. When we went to the cinema he was generally restless and got up every five minutes to get popcorn.
Every now and then I asked him if he wanted me to cook him something special and he always asked for fresh meat, goat cheese and old coffee (he thought it was a delicacy).
I liked him because he was generous, very loyal, and an excellent protector. One time I was standing on a street corner while he bought some haggis in a meat market. A mugger ran up and pointed his gun at me and asked me for my bag. In an instant, Kahn flew out to the street, knocked the mugger on the head with his change purse (which generally carried two or three bars of gold), and carried me off to a coffee shop.
I would ask Kahn where he came from and he would smile and say that a gypsy had dropped a little horse out of the sky but when it landed in the sand of Mongolia it tangled itself up and became a boy, and that little boy was him.


Yup, never a dull moment up here. Anywho, we’ll be trucking off on our weekend to London tomorrow, so woopiedootles! I still have to pack when I get home! Later!

Let greenness be

Hi-Ya!

Yup, in the reading room again. I got out of a Spanish lecture and I made a quick dive to check my email, hoping that the minions of fellow UofGers (what do you call us all anyway?!) had left one computer free for me.

Haha, in luck today.

But, with a little leftover time before I tube, train, and car ride my way home, I thought I’d entertain you with a picture post of the estimable building wherein I sit.

Ye McMillan Reading room



The sun actually was shining for much of today (all praise be to God!), so the photo is accurate. But I must point out that if you actually walk from the Maths Building (maths, maths – these British!) you will not see the reading room from this angle. You are much more apt to discover the grim reality of Scottish weathering –


greenness. Yes, greenness from the rust, greenness of peeling paint, greenness from the green light streaming through the green trees.

Que sera sera. And in Scotland it will be green!

Cop out

I had thought it all out and come to my conclusion - no more of this one post a month nonsense. No more mucking about (as our good pastor would say) on the fringe of blog existence. Out, out brief candle of a blog! I'm finished! Through! Washed up! This post was to be my last huzzah, my final blow, my big goodbye...

::snort:: So much for that.

Rather than soliloquize about departed bloggers sailing away on honeyed seas (well, you never know!), I’d rather do something more prosaic – tell you what’s up with me on a Wednesday.

So really quick

Church! Ah, things have been going jollyo at Airdrie RP Church. The big things, by God’s grace, have been in place from the start – our souls are being fed from the word, our lives enriched by warm and lively fellowship. But now specific ministries are starting to surface that makes one feel a part of the body as well. Dad now works there in his wee office every week day. We girls have been rotated into the nursery watch (they call it crèche over here, a confusingly Europeanish word that rhymes with mesh). I’ve had the opportunity to come along on the housebound visitation a couple of times – a wonderful program where we visit members of the church who are no longer able to leave their homes or nursing homes. Just things like this to be doing in the Lord's kingdom.

Class! A paragraph typed yesterday:
Yes Ladies and Gentlemen, today marks the first day of good to honest class in U of G. I got a magnificent send off breakfast taco (for those of you who might stay at home during a year or so of college, know that having full Mom support in both breakfast and supper is great – basically you don’t have to do them!!!) Today’s little secret is that my one Tuesday lecture isn’t really on until next week, so I don’t actually have to do anything while on campus. Oh well, I’ll just start class tomorrow :P

Yup, it was true. My class line-up for now is:

M, W, F 10 am - Scottish Literature 3A
M,T,Th,F 2 pm – Spanish 2
M, W 4 pm – Theatre Studies 1

During this first week, this is subject to change (ha!) and seminars are a whole other story for another post, but suffice it to say that despite the small number of courses I'm going to have a pretty full plate this semester!

Work! Looking for it. Not liking applying for it. Am wondering whether it’ll work with classes and travel and church/family/friend commitments. 'Nuf said.

Kids! In church, all of the Bible studies and children’s clubs have gotten started for the year, and Amy and I found ourselves drafted into the 6/20 club (name taken from Deut 6:20 I think, hmm). This is a games and ministry night for kids in the community (most of them unchurched) of about 8-15 years old. Amy and I got put into the games department so we have the privilege of shouting at the top of our voices for about 20 minutes at the beginning of the evening! But it’s surprisingly fun work, and it’s genuinely exiting to be doing this for the kingdom of God.

Weird Italian dudes staring into computers and anxiously pressing their fingers to their mouths! Yes indeedy. There’s one beside me and one behind me. Only in Glasgow, people. This post was a cop out swan song, so we've escaped for today, until tomorrow, and to-morrow, and tomorro creaps in again.

She lives!!!

But she also has very limited internet time sitting in the Airdrie library. Sorry that you guys don’t get a bodaciolific post, but I gotta do my emails.

So I thought I’d steal material from an email to a most beloved friend, and when she reads it online, she can pretend that it’s all new.
:P
:o}

I come to you today with a tale of computing woe, so pull out your Kleenex box as I explain why my letter to you has yet to arrive. On a peaceful Saturday afternoon I attempted to print out the letter at home, but our printer is not happy with any of our computers and so the attempt failed – ah me! Then I thought that I would email it to you from the church, but no good as well, the office was occupied by pastors and secretaries and things (what do these people think they’re doing in a church office – work or something?!). My next attack was to email it from the library, but now the computer is not reading my flash key! :{ Oh thwarted ambition! But never fear. Someday our printer will be up and working, and Lord willing we will have our phone line installed sometime this weekend, so your letter will arrive – it just may take a wee while!

Thus are the adventures of Cabbage for today (which is as much to say that it’s a beautiful sunny morning, and today is my dad’s birthday [ice cream and apple pie - yessss!], and life is going just great; what else is new?). But you know that things have got to be ok when I keep using my favourite little parenthesis men - bring on the funky grammar! ([{}])

My internet time is limited, so I have to say cheerio now.

Cheerio!!!

Murmur midstream

If you visit the that emotive encouragement which is James (whooooa, I’ve been in Great Britain too long!) or the tales of a minstrel mom you will know that we are about to disappear into the land of non-internet again. So those many and magnificent posts that you are so used to having from me may have to have their beauty sleep for a while. In reality, I’m deviously indifferent to the lost of the net when faced with the excitement of moving in/setting up/dare-we-say-decorating a new home. Yippeee!

I’ve been receiving a few emails from you peeps in the states which are a great encouragement to me. I’ve also just enjoyed spending these weeks with the family (which sadly lost our Captain Constantinople {josh}, but gained a Ginny of great standing!), woof!

Woof??? Have I ever said that before??? Well you may contemplate those depths while I slide once again into the void…

I have to put this here...

So that it can be my new profile pic. Woot! This is me and my man in Edinburgh (you'll notice that our romance caused a stir among bearded tourists nearby...).

I'm alive

But we don't have internet again. Crumbs.

Oh well, glorious Scotland makes up for it.

Woot!

Ok folks we did in fact make it to Scotland and this has been a whirlwinds of wonders. Tuesday was… yeah big. House got packed up, took off from Indi and then the long flight out of Chicago

Wednesday began with mocha in the airport in Dublin (what can I say?? we were pooped!!!). And finally terra firma in good ol’ Glasgow. Two of the church locals, secretary Beth Bogue and deacon Charles Muir picked us up in the inevitable blue minibus that we heard so much about from the mission team.

Wednesday also happened to be the looooooongest day of my life (partially because it had no real beginning in the twilight zone of the airplane). Even when I crashed into bed at 10:30 the dogged Scottish sky was still glowing with the end of an unusually warm Scottish day (the poor locals were sweating with this 78 degree “scorcher”).

Since then, the Lord has moved so many pieces into place! Everything from silverware to getting a van to cell phones to going grocery shopping I wouldn’t say that anything is quite second nature at this point but we certainly are beginning to live lives of sanity again.

As grateful as we are for insurance, hot water and pringles, the icing on the cake actually just came tonight. Getting a hard phone line to our new home has been a bit of a… a roundabout for us, allow me to use a new metaphor. We’ve been able to take the laptop up to the church building a couple of times but even then we couldn’t get it to work until today.

Well, this evening, while the rest of the troops were out for strolls, I deviously snooked the laptop up to my bedroom, thinking that I could perhaps type some emails or a blog to post for later sometime. (And fyi the master bedroom and my room are on the second floor of this house, and the other two rooms are down below the first floor in the basement). Anywho just as I get everything rolling and open up Word I notice a window pop up and here were the majical words “Wireless network detected” I was picking up an internet signal in my bedroom ¡!¡!¡!

::sigh:: Sorry, it was just so bizarre to think that we came into a house where there was a wireless signal right behind the laundry room.

Not bizzar really, that’s just the Lord. Every good and perfect gift is His.

So now, look out for brilliant posts from Amy, fantastic pictures from Ben, unfathomable insights from Mom, and yeah, pointless ravings from me.

The blog crew is back.

Now you see her…

This is my last day of work, people.

I’m going now.

::whpppp:: Out the door.





Well, perhaps not that suddenly. The truth is that I will be dropping off the face of the (Indiana) earth tomorrow as me and the family trek down to Texas for The (literal) Last Hurrah. Of course, to a certain peoples this will actually be us falling back on to the face of the earth. All depends on if you’re a euchre player or an armadillo, I guess. Anywho, we’ll be visiting the loverly folk back home until the 27th, methinks (which bumerously means that I can’t go to any CYA events during that time – oh crumbs). I miiiight get a post in, but no promises while there’s Blue Bell Ice Cream to distract me. :P

The other news for Hoosiers and such is that I believe our church Sycamore RPC is having a special sending service for us (nice alliteration for all you English geeks!) on the evening of Sunday July 2 at 6 p.m.

If you are anywhere in the vicinity of Kokomo/Indianapolis/ Lafayette/Elkhart/Seattle WA you need to come to this service to say goodbye.

There will be no pardons for missers, non-travelers, summer-class-takingers, or I’m-snowed-out-in-Massachusettsers – everyone needs to be there!

You have been warned.

Tickling my fancy

When one comes in stressed and plans to post, sometimes the best thing to do is just get a tickle. You can go to tickle.com and take personality tests ranging from the spiffy to the absurd and in general learn things about yourself that neither you nor anyone else on the planet knew (what kind of rug you would make, for instance). I found this first test particularly enlightening:

Al Einstine, Spending Time with Loved Ones renews your spirit

They say love conquers all — including stress. So when you're feeling zapped, what better way to lift your spirits than by surrounding yourself with those near and dear to you? A little R&R with the ones you love can make all the difference for a caring and loving soul like you.

Generous and kindhearted, you're probably always there for other people. So when you need a lift, why not pick up the phone? Reaching out to friends and family is the best way for a sweetie like you to feed your soul and refresh your outlook on life. Sounds good to us!

And then, of course, everyone has to see what they used to be...

Discover Your Past Life

Al Einstine, you're a Monkey!

Don't go bananas — in your former life you were a tiny monkey named Oompa. Here's what we know about you: Adorably sweet demeanor and sharp as a tack, you found success working with a street performer named Juan, who worshipped you and treated you like his own child. He bought you a gold satin jumpsuit with royal blue ruffles, a matching top hat, and a sequined bag for donations. He would play your favorite disco tunes on his accordion, prompting you to dance around and flirt with the crowd while you collected spare change and picked pockets. Everybody loved you. And you loved everybody. You and Juan took your gig around the country and raked in the riches. You were one happy little monkey.

Whoh, boy, have I missed my calling!!!

Watching the deep

I feel like a sailor on a long voyage who has discovered a curious fact. Though the journey as a whole is aiming toward one end, each leg of the voyage, each little seasonal wind, has a quality all its own. An inexperienced swabby like me not only has to guard against the dangers of each period, like falling asleep during the doldrums or collapsing under a gail, but they have trouble just adjusting to the seasons of the journey. I find that when a storm blows up, I often persist in working the details of the kitchen; or when a two week gail is finally past, I still cling to the main sail instead of walking about in the sun!

It’s been a little over a month since I stopped school and after a couple of weeks of break I realized this – there is life after homework!! It wasn’t just that the world had bloomed at last or that I could go to bed at 10:30 at last (heh), but there are relationships, there are crossroads, there is life outside of completing projects dawn to dusk. Being the uncompromising efficiency machine that I am, it has taken me these past several weeks to start living life outside the textbook again, and I see that it is a sweet and precious thing.

And now that I’ve started to discover this, we’re going to go away.

Ouch.

So if the previous leg of the voyage was full of furious work within the ship, and this next course in Scotland is a launch into uncharted waters, what about these few weeks in between? Well, quite simply, there has been a lot of looking out to sea.

You’ll catch me doing it when I’m alone in the gallery with a sad song on the speakers. It’s a weighing of life, a treasuring and a sadness over the past, a watching of the future. It’s looking out to sea.

You’ll find me and Mom doing it as we walk all around our house division, Forest Park. We go often to Big Ben and visit our favorite barista because our time here is short. We stop what we’re doing to muse or admire or visit because we are both looking out to sea.

I even hear it wailed over the guitar as Ben makes it come alive at night. He plays that song just one extra round, or he goes with the guys to the Y and makes sure to stop by Speedway for one more drink. You count your blessings and look out to sea.

I hear Amy making plans to visit Katie (sp?) again, or hop over to Meijer or Old Navy with Lidz. She gives Brian a hard time on Sundays and she smiles at Joy, but with Bailey in her arms who could help but look out to sea?

Dad has been amazing and with ministry/work/cars/insurance/boxes/checkbags/tickets on his mind, he still makes special time for other things. He invites the guys over for a burger, just one more burger, and then he gets them the special pepper cheese. I can tell he’s counting the hours as well, he’s treasuring the talks and laughter, looking out to sea.

We all wonder, When shall I ever do this again? How often shall I get to hug her again? Will we be miserable out there? Will it be glorious? Can't the sunset stay just a minute longer so that I can look into the horizon?

Looking out to sea

Lunch at the gallery

Ok, so Jims has inspired me with her story of ginormous bald men to tell you what the *real* work world is all about. While she's off in latte land, some of us baristas of the art world are slaving away twice a week to deliver modern Mona Lisas to Kokomo. And let me tell you, the workplace isn't ultimately about serving the customers, or working with grace and efficiency (such things as the Jims spends her time doing). Work in a real man's environment is about sacrifice.

So let me tell you of the T-day lunch hour in the IUK Art Gallery.

11:55 a.m. - Cabby has been working like a dog - lifting up finger after finger at the computer.

::sigh:: Such stress!

12:10 p.m. As her morning project comes to a close, the Cabby begins to eye her lunch quota, (attractively thrown into a Kroger sack 0.2 minutes before leaving the house). She knows that there are luscious dainties waiting inside! Often there was a microwavable Chef Boyardee lasagna bowl (you wouldn't believe the smell of canned sauce after it's been nuked!), another time it was summer sausage and cheese, all comfortably room temperature. But the best of all was when the cabbage absentmindedly packed a bowl of cold tuna that could fill the office with its fragrance... and there we pick up the story.

12:15 Cabby has run down to the cafeteria to get the one critical condiment that she must have with every meal: sweet pickle relish! Ah yes, it goes with everything. Now she relaxes in her chair and unpacks the motley of little baggies and tupperware which make up lunch. She's going to enjoy sinking her teeth into those squished chips...

But what is that sound? A footstep in the art gallery?!

Cabby looks up just in time to see a patron jump with embarrassment and surprise, it is an art lover in her early 50's who has just caught sight of the curator waving her tuna-y fingers over a little warzone of a desk. Was this the right entrance to get into the university gallery?!, thinks the woman. To hide her disgust she suddenly becomes very interested in a painting of Mary Joe’s smirking little brother Billy (complements of the high school exhibit).

Meanwhile, Cabby abashedly hides her pool of tuna and tries to look professional without showing any of the relish in her teeth – a difficult undertaking, you do the math.

And thus begins the curator’s lunch. During the 2 hours that she was on duty before, not a soul was seen in the gallery, not a toenail entered. But now that pickle water and mayonnaise are drying on her fingers, there is an art lover here getting engrossed in the show. Tuna becomes warmer, crackers become soggier, and the minutes tick by while Cabby meditates on the career impact of sack lunches. She also wonders how the art public knew when to suddenly appear at the moment of the curator’s first bite.

It’s all coincidence of course, we shan’t indulge in any base suspicions.

More on the job

Today was me first full day currating (curating? curing??).

In fact, my chief day was keeping track of the visitors to the gallery (putting a little line of paper on out “attendance sheet”). So when I was trained in the office, the other gallery assistants told me, with some concern, that I would have to find some way of keeping myself busy for 6 hours on a regular day. If only! I brought a whole slew of books that I didn’t even crack, ‘cause there was so much I wanted to get done on the computer, printing things and such.

I’m quite tart tonight so I’ll end with a nice pic of my new workspace in an old exhibit from last year:

Now is the Hour

Oh yes, she blogs at last.

Well what has been happening these many moons? I finished finals and by the grace of God got some very good marks on them (you’ll notice the Britishism). It was a smashing semester, but I was more than hippy to begin perhaps the four sweetest months of summer break I’ll ever have. (That’s right, Watson, the British don’t start there semesters til later in September or October – so I’m having the mama of all breaks!).

Another of the Lord’s great provisions, I have a summer campus job! On one of my last days of the semester I was looking at a job roster board and the director of the art gallery just walked by and said, “Ya know, we’re looking for summer helpers in the gallery,” and kept walking by. Upon further questioning I found that he was quite serious and willing to hire me on the spot! Literally the morning after my last final I came in to set up training and was making moolah two days after that. Is not that sweet?!

The first thing I did with was help set up a new exhibit (if you’re in the area you ought to see this one it’s actually cool). This undertaking requires 1) strong legs to stand for several hours 2) a good math head to calculate where all the pictures should go so that they hang symmetrically on the wall and 3) patience. Naturally I am strong in none of these areas, but I managed to help and have fun somehow. So it’s weird but my first week of break was actually pretty busy. No that ::sniff: I didn’t have time to see MI III or perhaps grab a coffee from the queen of joe, but hey, one must survive during the summer!

Finals this week

But I did want to document my existence at the beginning of the month, and say that I still hope to be alive after Wednesday.

Actually, I haven't that much to complain about. I talked to a lot of peeps at the Fireside Chat in Lafayette last night (which was blast by the way - you guys rock!) and apparently my 3 finals are an abnormally small amount.

Anywho, I want to leave you with a question that we were contemplating last night:

When you are cold does saying "Burr" make you warmer or colder?

I know my own thoughts, but let's hear yours...

Nahnahna

pocket lint


wet socks


shiny noses


And all that other Tuesday jive...

God made the sun!

And it shown today!!! I admit that I have often underestimated the effect of solar power on the human psyche - but today as I sat out in the courtyard of IUK's main building I could appreciate little more. I also believe that Daylight Savings has had a beneficial effect upon my evening homework times because the world seems so much more free to contemplation when it is still light outside at 8 o'clock.

Speaking of contemplation, I am in the last home stretch of literature papers before our finals in four weeks. In my L298 class I chose to write my ending paper on More's Utopia and I have checked out no fewer than ten books from two libraries to facilitate my research. And this morning I got a rather frightening occurrence. When the alarm went off, I looked at the clock and the very first thought in my head was "My my, 6:45, that minute sounds very like a Sir Thomas More minute! Heh, 6:45.... wonder what More would have thought of it...."

Doesn't the brain come up with the oddest stuff when it's first out of slumber?

Anywho. In order to combat a serious condition of Utopoplague I plan to take some of the rest of the evening off and watch a special film that mom is showing on ... English literature and John Donne.

Ah, relaxation!!!

These little winding words

Anyone care to write a novel for me so that I can win the Paul Zindel First Novel Award?

No takers?

Well, as you can see, I'm surfing the FastWeb scholarship site for possible augmentations of funds (yup, I just made up a new word - how Shakespearean of me!). Some of them, however, just don't quite match with me as a student. Like the one place that wanted me to write an essay arguing in favor of "voluntary means of population control" - whoa! a bit Huxlean for me.

On a much brighter note, the Lord really helped me with my Problem Speech. I got up there and things just came out in their own way, but I was overjoyed after getting through with it.

Well, off to the chopping block. There is something childishly wonderful about literature classes. Whereas I must collect interviews for journalism or conguage verbs for spanish, in both of my literature classes I may spend basking in Thomas More, or Hamlet, or Samuel Beckett. (Ok, no one is ever going to actually bask in Beckett, but he had some interesting things to say!).

¡Ciao!
(rhyms with "now")

Monday monday

Well, after all of those very helpful comments on how I should run my future, one is tempted to giving up posting in order to guffa at one's poor friends, but this cannot be.

But, as it is, I can't post for long. I'd like to tell you that this is because I'm so frightfully studious that I can't spare 20 minutes away from the books. Wishful thinking, dear - it's actually because there's a big beautiful cantaloup in the fridge with my name on it. Melon heaven, here I come!

Big fat huge speech today in SPCH121. This thing has to be 8-10 minutes long and accompanied by a very sophisticated PowerPoint. It doesn't sound that long but me wee little brain pretty much have it all memorized so I covet your prayers on that head. :o)

What else? Oh yes, our Presbytery meeting is comming up, that's the meeting of all the pastors for our slice of the US - The Great Lakes/Gulf Presbytery, and this time - our church is hosting it! Pretty exciting that we'll have a few dozen RP pastors decending upon our congregation, he magnificent ladies of our church are well up to the challenge of feeding and housing them, I believe.

Latter tatter!

So very much to do

And a week's so little time!

Spring break? Spring cleaning! In more ways than one.

One quick prayer request. My last day of school two faculty members individually urged me to decide once and for all if I'm going to be a Humanities major or an English major. The advantage of the former is that the Humanities department will probably accept almost any Glasgow classes that I come back with as transfer credit (that is, if I come back to IUK at all after a year abroad... I don't have it all figured out!). But if I'm really drawn to English Literature and Linguistics as my life's study (and I kindof am right now) then it might help me in the long run to specialize in that direction now. Humanities is all of the fine arts and if I go to graduate school as a literature student (you should have seen how my eyes popped when my advisor said that, see! another think to think about!) then it would be helpful if I had my undergrad degree in English.

Make sense?? ::pant, pant::

Uh... Not really to me either.


Which is why it's a prayer request.

I'm done with Midterms

Now what am I going to do with myself over spring break?

Ye olde hattes of rede

Well, it’s officially Shakespeare week on planet IUK. Today I had the inestimable pleasure of putting on a silly red hat and guiding an English actor 12 steps down the hall to a classroom. On the hat subject, the trademark of all the students who signed up as Shakespeare Ambassadors are these red Renaissance hats which look unsettlingly like pastries. As out of place as I must have looked in Walgreens yesterday (people would stare and then begin hiding from my pastry of doom) when four of us are on campus together and sailing down the wind like a very flock of giddy tarts I believe the very sight of us must be moving and sublime.

And as you’ll note, I’ve been so stuffed with the Bards endless iambic pentameter that I managed to squeeze 116 words into three stuffed sentences.

Methinks I will hie me down to bed where dreams of scarlet bonnets can sing me to my rest…

The spice of life.

This is me.



Right now.









And thats my eye.







Your candid Cabbage for the day.

Oh dear, we post at last

Many appologies to Granny, I lifted most of this post from a letter to her, but hey Granny I got it to you first!

Actually I’ve been so lazy that I’ve been trying to write y’all something for a few days now. So you’re getting an uncouth conglomeration composed over a span of 26 hours. Cheezió!

Feb 16, 10:52 p.m.

I had a great time at the Lafayette RPC last Sunday night. I had been wanting to go to a Fireside Chat and Jims and I just went to the evening service and made a night of it. Very comforting times. We had a challenging word from Pastor Olivetti and then a short chat time with Pastor Long on names and changing names (good thinking material). And then we had a testimony from the president of the seminary that was remarkable. Here was the chap that you thought’d be the ultimate have-your-life-together-all-along-dude and yet he struggled for many years against a heaviness of spirit.

And yes, the news on Mom’s blog is true. The University of Glasgow accepted me for a year of study abroad.

Whew.

But now I have miles to go before I sleep (figuratively, that is, I’m gonna hit the hay pretty soon!). Even with all of the bountiful financial aid that God has given me through IU I think that this operation will take some scholarships to keep it afloat so it is my sole duty to hunt these tricksy pray out and stun them with a well aimed essay.

Valentine’s day wasn’t terribly magical but the weather was thankfully very balmy and we did get out of Lit 297 half an hour early. Qué romántico, ¿no?

~~~

Feb 17 8:56 a.m.

Back to the U of Glasgow :o) Mom's the one who stops me from time to time and says, "Now Canny, you have to stop and think about how cool this is - you are going to go to college overseas (DV - Deo Volente, God willing)! In Scotland! At the University of Glasgow!!" Yes she's right, it's pretty cool. This is an old one too - I think that it's 29 on the list of oldest universities on the planet, 4 on the list of oldest UK colleges, and 2 on the list of oldest Scottish universities (only St. Andrews is older).

Here's a link of a few pictures of the campus. Pretty, ain't it?
http://www.gla.ac.uk:443/pictures/

We're very glad to have Josh back. He only got a bit of sleep last night because his body is still on Johannesburg time and it was early morning there. He showed us his souvenirs: a soccer jersey and some flip flops that were a size to big (we likened them to miniature observation decks). Wonderful to have him back in the house.

Not much going on today, Dad's over at the church building, participating in a men's work day, and Amy and I are going to go to a stamping party this afternoon. I believe our main activity will be fixing up cards with rubber stamps and ink pads, just a nice way to spend a few hours with some girls. Mom's hanging around Josh :o) and making a Latin test. Ben's been sleeping and now is probably eating breakfast (“Oh to be young again and have ten toes!”).

~~~

6:30

The party was nice, I can always make further steps in the social front. The really awesome thing was driving back with Amy when the iffy day had finally panned out into a very gentle evening. Golden sun on mown fields foreshadowed a beautiful spring to come, and oh, the green & chi tee latte at Joe Muggs was most wonderful. The joys of being neo hippy. :P

Then, wonder of wonders, we came home to piping hot pizza, and now I very full and my breath is rather garlicy (ew, we wanted to know?! say the readers). Weekends are good.

Post Scriptum
A free burger to anyone who can guess without the aid of internet where that very obscure quote is from, a couple of paragraphs up. Seriously.

Anyone except James, that is.

::chuckle::

Al Einstine, your alter ego is a Relaxed driver

For you, life is to be enjoyed, not fussed over. Sure, you know things can't always be the way you want them to be, which is why you sometimes get frazzled in the rush and push of daily life. But you know when that happens, you need only hop in your car, turn up your favorite CD, hit the one-lane street out to your favorite beach, or the major road into the city.

That's right, when the going gets tough on the road of life, you pull over and take a breather. Well, figuratively speaking, anyway. You're a Zen master of the road. You're the type to exchange smiles instead of sneers with fellow motorists, and let cars hop in front of you at an intersection instead of succumbing to road rage like those less enlightened. That's because you're more interested in gazing at the setting sun through a rearview mirror, watching dust-blue dusk fall on the city through your windshield, or wondering at the constellations shimmering in the wide-open skies above.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ah, tickle tests.

Matters of music and marching meter

After the wild success of my Hrothgar post I was tempted to just put out a series entitled Unferth, Higlac, Offa, and (my personal favorite) Wiglaf. Unfortunately, the great outcries against such treasured household names gave me pause, wary lest my neck should be cloven with an ancient enchanted sword. And so I’ve reverted to the droll habit of reporting on real life.

Last semester’s cool busyness has been replaced by the insane downward crash of full time schoolhood, and daughterhood, and part time musicianhood and workhood (not to mention sister- and friendhood, which are different demands entirely!). I am happy to report that I *love* all of my classes (Lit, Lit, Speech, Spanish, Newspaper) save one – never was a public speaker – and so even though I spend all day stringing sentences together their various natures keep up a wonderful diversity

Speaking of wonderful. The Jones household partook in yet another high school orchestra concert today, featuring Mr. Ben and Miss Amy. Actually attending a youth concert is a new experience for me I guess I was the one who started playing in string orchestras 8+ years ago, but this time, due to the demands of all the other hoods I sat out! Mr. Christiansen, the conductor, is a very good song-pickerouter. This year the youth played a Hayden peace, Bizet’s Carment (the string version, not the tragical, extravagant opera!), and mmmm Beethoven’s Prometheus overture. It’s very hard to top the Egmont overture, which we played last semester but this one’s pretty good.

Go to concerts thou burdened bookworm of blogger baloney! Thou wilt find that thy weary wit will be well watered with worthy waves!

Oop, that’s the inner Hrothgar coming out again, better wrap up the post before my marching meter makes some mongrel meditate munching my mead-hall!




Ok, just to set eeeeeveryone straight on my views of mead, I can assure you that it was mearly a culture reference. Anyone who ever catches me drinking sick rotted honey that would knock a thane over can have my next lunch!

Hrothgar

All praise be to God, Josh made it safely to South Africa for his four week stay at an archeological dig. Of course you can continue to pray for his safety way out in the mountains, but it’s a great comfort to know that he survived Chicago, London, and Johannesburg! You can also pray that the Lord would use this trip to confirm His will in Josh’s life, as a career in archeology or paleontology are possibilities in Josh’s future. And it’s nice to think, the God that brought him 9800 miles (one way!) can also direct his career steps.

On a Phoenix note, see the fine posts of Ginny, and Laura for some pictures of our trip to AZ.

And ::sigh:: I got on the computer armed, as my loverly mom put it, with all my good intentions for a full post. ‘Fraid you guys got bumped out by emails to Dr. McLean and searches for Mr. Mosley. Gotta get that time in for the profs!

Better luck next time, swabbies!

oh, and it's a commonly known fact among privileged Literature students: if you can't think of a blog title, insert a character from Beowulf and your audience will be satisfactorily corn-fused.

::whew::

CYA Winter conference.






Yea.

Oh, and I owe you for that thing with that guy in that place…

Yes, I’ve been watching movies again. This particular quote expresses the haze that I’ve felt about school assignments since coming back to school. These professor people, I know that they wanted me to do something at some point and turn it in on some day, but who can remember such things over quirky sleep patterns?

And, unfortunately, my patterns don’t have such a bright future this weekend. Mañana* Josh and I have the privilege of attending the Covenanter Young Adult Winter Conference, the RP college student event of the year. It is a four day, three night conference where a guest speaker delivers a series of talks throughout the weekend and students also attend workshops on Saturday given by various RP pastors. As far as learning and fellowship, this is a wonderful time - we laugh and talk, ‘til the wee smahs (sp?). But as you can imagine, this is rather detrimental to any form of rest except at odd hours of the afternoon.

But what else? Oh yes, the Phoenix trip was a blast. I actually got homesick for it even while in the airport! The saints of First RPC of Phoenix were amazing, I’m sure that the rest of the team would agree with me when I say that they totally make Phoenix a home to us because they gave us their homes. The family that Ginny, Emily, Ed, and I stayed with, the Borgs, was simply fantastic. Mrs. Borg was our mom-away-from-mom. She made us hot breakfasts, got us packed us lunch sacks with smiley faces on them, even got us post cards and stamps while running errands.

As fun as our many adventures were, for me the preeminent part of the trip was the time that we spent talking together. Time with my teammates, just hearing what they think on the big issues, listening to their stories from around the globe, laughing at their jests and retorts. Time with the church leadership, asking Pastor Maginn and Mr. Reyburn our questions, it was all priceless.

Did I learn anything about evangelism? I don’t think it’s a cop out to say that only time will tell. Out in a strange state with folk that I’ll never see again, I could speak to anyone. Here the familiarity of a very small college is only too intimidating to my pride. If I open my mouth about Christ to that chap or this gal, chances are I’ll pass them again on Tuesday and wonder what they think of me. We warned one another time and again out there that it would be hard to continue opening our mouths as the Lord gives opportunity. Now I’m already tempted to “ease” myself back into society, to get going to school for a few weeks before I jump out with any actual words to anybody. Go away, silly old self. A piece of wisdom really stuck when someone turned to me and said, “It’s our foolish pride that says that we can live Christian lives, present the gospel, and still have everyone like us. Christ Jesus was the most perfect [the most truly loving] man on earth and people hated him – went out of their way to get rid of Him.”

Yup, I had lots of stuff to think of out there! Be praying that the students (all 70, or 80 of us!) will have quite, open hearts to hear the word of the Lord. Oh and pray for the students who will work in the kitchen, the gallant ladies of the church, and all of the speakers – all we have to do is listen, these people have to prepare the food!






*tomorrow, oh thou questioning soul

The week begins again

Again, don't have much time (if you were to choose between breakfast and a bigger post what would you do?). Pastor Maginn of First RP Church of Phoenix preached a fine sermon and really encouraged all of us to go ahead and work on our New Years resolutions, but to make a commitment to read God's law in the 10 Commandments and realize that that is our resolution to obey him. Something good to think about.

There was a happy conclusion to the Ginny/Becky story. It turned out that I was misinformed Friday evening, and shortly after that post we were able to meet with them at Pancho's for a lummy feast. We're all just thankful that they can be here.

The cool, luscious, fresh-off-the-tree grapefruit are calling me, blessings to you in your new week!