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!

Wooot!

Yup ladies and gentlemen, I did not perish in Northwestern Airlines but I am writing from sunny Arizona on the RP missions trip! What a blast!

I really don't have much time (the excellent Mexican food at Pancho's awaits us), but we've been doing great. Well, all of the girls who got to paint are fine, somehow still not overpowered by fumes in Pastor Maginn's office. I'm not sure that I can say as much for the guys who spent a day and a half wresting Bubba the Stump from the earth (we kindly named him for them). They ended up sawing him down and burying his remaining tentacles under the clay.

Oh, and if you get to this post soon enough, please pray for Ginny and Becky who have withstood a fiasco on the part of Delta. Lord willing, and that's what we have to keep reminding ourselves that they're back in Georgia because of His will, they will be joining us late this evening, a whopping 24 hours later than they were supposed to!!! Yup, very trying but we'll be all the more joyful when they can join us at last.

Gotta Jet! Do keep the rest of us in your prayers as well, we've had evangelism hot on the brain since getting here and our training program begins on Saturday so pray that we will have hearts to hear and learn.

Taggeth was I

Ok, so I was trying to think of an original opener and it don't always pan. I at least have the privilege of being the first to continue Jordan's detestable tag just to get the thing over with!!

Five weird habits:

1. Eat Sun Chips only when I'm talking on the telephone, and then in frightful amounts.

2. Walk along a curb with one of my feet on the curb and one street below giving a hyper-giraffe sort of effect.

3. Drive slowly when I'm in an absolute time crunch and run around the house when I have nothing much to do.

4. Suck my teeth. You know, like what Samwise did.

5. Drink 3 - 4 cups of herb tea a day (of the same cranberry apple flavor).

Grr, could you tell that I was running out of idears before I started?!

And for my six victims I elect Ginny, James, Christopher, Mom, Jamey, and Nirmala (goodness, exhausted my list of blogger friends eh?)

Those unfortunates who have received this nomination must now post five quirky (no pun intended) habits of their own and chose six of their own pray. They must warn aforementioned pray in a comment on their blog and send them back to their own post for directions.

A free woman

Free to sleep past seven.

Free to make breakfast (though I did quite a bit of that during the school year too!).

Free to read John Warburton.

Free to run all of the laundry in the house.

Free to go shopping at 10 p.m. with my mom.

Free to read the bible study chapter more thuroughly.

Free to pack, it's a very good thing too.

Free to have a clean freak mind.

Free to lose it occationaly too.

Free to blog (whoda thought!).

Yes, and free to wipe out my links tab with another template change.


Wanna know what I've been doing these past three days?

Livin' the freedom.

Thank you, Lord!!

I'm alive

But cold.


See you after Monday when my finals are over.

gasp

I only have six more hours to be... however old I am.



What am I going to do?!?!?!?!









Oh yeah, write papers.




:P

Actually it must needs be said that I have a very coolio cool Thanksgiving break, I got to make two pumpkin pies and two slabs of cake (both of which have taken rather longer to eat than Jim's magnificent cheesecake!). We had a hoot all day Thursday with a few family friends and the loads of food that we gals cooked. Didn't play or watch any football, but got to share the couch with Benny for our family movie which about the same thing ;D.

And on the weekend (Friday through Sunday) I had a tremendous time with Ginny and Becky cruising Indy for a get-the-gals-together and also celebrate-with-Cabbage time. See Miss Ginny's post for a bit more illumination (note that the bruises were not my fault!). What she didn't say was that she unknowingly gave me my new rage for the season: mint hot chocolate. If you're ever at Starbucks and feeling non-coffee and/or stingy (I know, that only happens to me once a year too) get a peppermint hot chocolate and absolutely die like I did. Oh the joy!

Sermon notes Oct 30, 2005

Another set of sermon notes, this time out for all to see instead of a link. Again, please see the disclaimer(s) posted on Nov 6 and send a letter to the editor for typeo's (typoes? typos?). And have a joyful Thanksgiving!!!!

Today the scripture readings were from Ps 8:1-9, and Matthew 21:1-17 about Jesus’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Mr. York noted that the amount of time that the gospels give to the last week of Jesus’s life disproportionate, spending anywhere from 20% to almost 50% in the four books on this one week. This great attention is also accompanied by many quotations from the Psalms and Prophets [during this time Jesus is fulfilling many of those prophesies!]. We ought to preface our approach to this chapter in Matthew with the knowledge that it is here that Christ is rising to his great battle (and great victory). Many people think that the Lord’s greatest battle is still to be fought, when he comes with His angels at the end of the age. As God’s children we must realize that Christ fought for and earned our salvation 2000 years ago, this was His marvelous work (Matt 21:15).

We first saw the great contrast between the Jew’s expectations and Christ’s actual entrance. We sang Ps. 118 this morning, the one that they quote in v. 9, and this song was part of the Great Halel (sp?!) which all Jews sang around the Passover. They thought about the words of this Psalm: “The right hand of the Lord does valiantly The right hand of the Lord is exalted,” and their minds were captivated by civil salvation. Here at last was their Messiah, one who could expel diseases and silence storms, coming to overthrow their conquerors forever. What they didn’t notice, however, was the manner of his coming, “gentle and mounted on a donkey” (v. 5 and Is 62:11). It wasn’t with the civil rulers that He had come to do battle, rather their own Pharisees and scribes were the ones confronting him just a few verses down. The Jews forgot what the Passover was about - a lamb shedding his blood to save the firstborn in Egypt.

Misguided as the Jews were, when the King came to Jerusalem he was met with shouts of praise. The Jews had a hope that was only earthy, only temporary, but they were unrestrained in their praises and expectations. What manner of praise and devotion should be on our lips, who know the true implications of the gospel? To our great loss, we are often dead when we read the word, dead when we pray, dead when we offer praise. [The Jews were not ashamed to shout to the heavens] and we, knowing that He has given us eternal salvation ought to do no less.

Finally, we saw that Christ came zealous for righteousness, in His cleaning of the temple, therefore we should repent before Him. Historically (II Sam 5:6-8), there was a saying, “The blind or the lame shall not come into the house” [I’m assuming this includes the Lord’s house]. The outcasts in Christ’s day were prevented from worshiping by the money changers. Then, not only does Christ allow them in and heal the physically blind and lame, but He turns on the true outcasts of His Kingdom, the Pharisees and Scribes. “Have you never read [the Psalms]?” he asks them. The Lord identifies who is truly blind and lame, those who cannot embrace His humility and never had their eyes opened to the word of God.

There is an application here in how we think of people within the Lord’s house. We of the church are often inwardly displeased by people who come in blinded and maimed by the world. But we ourselves wander in our obedience, and presume to work a self-righteousness when God knows that we have none, and yet we see these “messy” people and demand that they clean up their act. What we overlook is that God requires repentant hearts, opened eyes, and straight paths from us as well.

This chapter also warns us about our fruitfulness. Christ was in earnest about producing the fruit of repentance, as seen in Matt 21:18-22 where the Lord curses a barren fig tree. He is gentle and forgiving He also looks for rich fruits of righteousness as we walk with Him. I personally thought of a verse in Matt 5 that we are looking at: “Therefore let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

~~~

DV

That means Deo Volente, God willing, and is the big arc over everything that’s coming up for me.

Are you ready? The big news at last??

So, God willing, I’m gonna be part of a short term Reformed Presbyterian Missions trip to Phoenix AR in December. Whew!

This post has been a month and a half in the making by now, but I found out about this opportunity provided by RPMissions, applied, got accepted to the team, yeppers, I even bought my flight ticket last night. It is a very exciting thing for me, (geez I haven’t even been up in the air before!) but let me give you the quick and dirty from the RPMissions web site.

Phoenix, Arizona (December 27, 2005 - January 9, 2006)
RP Missions has a great need for young people to labor this winter for two weeks in Phoenix, Arizona. This small congregation is hoping to benefit from the work of the team to make new contacts in its community and to implement more outreach efforts around the greater Phoenix area. Mission team members can expect to do some door-to-door work, possibly help organize and carryout a backyard Bible school or vacation Bible school. Team members will also seek to encourage the members of this congregation by joining with them in worship and midweek Bible studies. Individuals who have abilities to communicate in Spanish would be a great asset to this team. One day of this trip will be spent touring the Sedona Valley and the Grand Canyon. Participants will fly to the Phoenix International Airport.

Ages: 16-32
Size of team: 6-10 participants

I first thought about a missions trip when musing on how much free time I have now (comparatively) and how quickly I know that that’ll change even in the next semester. If I wanted to seriously pursue one soon (even this winter, thought I) early October would be high time to research, perhaps even too late. The next day I when mentioned the thought to mom she immediately threw in a lot of encouragement. We even excitedly talked about the possibility of ministering in a Spanish speaking country (since I’ve been taking Spanish) even though we were pretty sure that there were no RP churches in South or Central America. Well, I got online the next day and, boom, the first entry on the list was the one posted above – Phoenix, Arizona. It was the only trip I saw for this winter, and there I may use some of my Spanish. Cool Beans!!

I believe that the next day was a Sabbath, and during our fellowship lunch we had two young missionaries-to-be give a brief testimony. If I recall correctly, Brandon and Megan were taking mission trips to Australia together even before they were married (stuff that Joleen, their six-month-old daughter, wouldn’t remember and therefore didn’t comment on). Now God has called them to relocate to Australia long term, and what struck me was how He used a smaller venture to guide them, teach them things about themselves and Himself. Of course I realize that many short term missionaries don’t have this strong connection between the field and their future homes. I don’t have the foggiest idear of where I’ll be in five years either! But planning and planting in smaller ways is exciting. Wondering what God will do with even a small seed is exciting. Watching as He still leads me for His name’s sake is downright thrilling.

What makes your rising sun so new?

Oh

My

Goodness, Igotanearlybirthdaypresentyesterdayafternoon ::takes breath::

My parents got me a palm pilot¡!¡!¡

BoooYea!! It was a total surprise but I came into the den while everyone else was talking. Mr. Benny nearly jumped out of his skin and came whirling over to me waving his arms like a disjointed scarecrow. Unfortunately, since he does this kind of thing all the time, I lost my change to begin suspecting something. I was at the computer doggedly surfing when Mom burst into the happy birthday song exactly fourteen days early. Yes, I was flabbergasted at this confrontation, but dribbled into pools of delight upon opening the gift. Mom has always been telling me how cool it would be if I had one of these babies and then they went and got me one that was juuust perfect. It’s gonna be so fun and helpful!!! ::sigh::

Quick update on the patient from yesterday:

Amy has been a bed bug for a couple of days now, but is improving by the grace of God. She had more cards and flowers today, and got in a couple of movies this afternoon (one of them, Anastasia, was a dreadful animated musical whose villain was physically falling apart throughout the film!). She does seem to be feeling better too and has had a great (sleepy) attitude the whole time.

Durst I say it that I still might be able to come to Lafayette this week? Nah, I’ll just appear and haunt the Boilermakers :o)

Barg (pronounced with a hard g as in goof)

That's what they put on movie tickets. I guess they thing it means bargain (someone smarter than I can perhaps enlighten me), but Jims and I agreed that it's really an expression of disapproval, disesteem, or disfavor. No, I'm not actually grumpy right now, I just feel a bit... barged that I told peeps that I was coming to the fireside chat and didn't actually show. On Sunday afternoon my friend called in sick. I had noticed that she was hoarse all week, but then it just settled in her chest and she just couldn't come. We weighed some possibilities but since we had had company that afternoon, and Dad was preaching that night, I thought we'd dis-complecate our evening and just call it off. Once I thought about it yesterday evening, though, I was really glad that it didn't work out. And this is why.

Jims had an operation this morning on her poor 'ittle nose. She had an Xray of it recently and apparently it has been broken or blocked or un-goodified for quite some time. It is our hope that the operation today (which will perhaps involved quite a bit of pain, so be praying) will alleviate her breathing problems and even alleviate some of her migraines.

So to make a un-complicated story short. It would have been a bit barg if Erin and I had gone and then come in really late and slept really late for everyone to work around us. This way all of us got up at a just the right time and had a calm morning to see Amy off at 8 . It would have been extreme barg if we hadn't really thought it all the way through and sent Amy with me so that she had come in really late and started this important week all groggy and warn out. God had a way of preparing a way for her when it was really important that she be allowed to heal!!
But if nothing else... we are headed over for the Thanksgiving Psalm Sing this Sunday night (very coolio) and I had the time to study for my big fat Spanish test today!!!

Not to us, not to us

“We are broken we are bitter/ We’re the problem we’re the politicians

Politicians… Politicians…”

Do you ever wake up with one of those loud songs you know stuck in your head? Probably not the best way to start a peaceful day, but that little voice has been shouting in my head for hours. Hey maybe that’s part of the reason that I’m up and working on emails and blogs already.

First, big news. Today is the second day of Presbytery, which is a meeting of all the pastors from all the churches in our slice of the RPCNA. This is the time that they discuss policies and hear reports and also approve the work of men who are pastoral interns, like Dad. He’s been working on the first stage of pastorship: licensure to preach and he had five tests (some verbal, some written, and one huge term paper) in this stage. This time he was supposed to bring that last test before the Presbytery and even perhaps begin the next test for licensure to receive a call. We just got word that his last test was completed for the first stage. Dad is licensed to preach!!! Woooooo! He’s a licensed preacher of the RP church!! Huzzah! God was willing and He made it happen!!

Whew! Ok those who read this post Friday morning be praying for him and thanking the Lord for this big step.

The rest of my news is small compared to that, but I’m pretty excited about this weekend. At IUK one of my friends is a girl named Erin who has taken Spanish with me for three semesters. I got to know her and her fiancée early on and we’ve become pretty tight nit. Anywho, I’ve invited them to visit our church several times by now, especially since they live in Marion along with about half of our congregation who commute. The whole catch is that they are Wesleyans, and if your now anything about Armenian Westlyans and Calvinist RP’ers (Reformed Presbyterians) you can see that there’d be some problems there.

But alright, I’ve also been wanting to visit more RP college groups in our area, and having been down to Indianapolis several times over the summer and school year (you guys rock!!) I thought about visiting the Lafayette RPC, which is about the same distance away. This city is the stronghold of Purdue University, and though I will have to wear my IU colors incognito*, I have really wanted to visit there because I know they have a strong group of Christian students. Well I’m finally going to be able to make the Fireside chat this Sunday evening, so I’m really looking forward to that. And Erin has agreed to come with me! Yippee!! (not only will I have a friend while in enemy territory {jk!}, but a riding buddy really makes it easier for me to go at all)

But the greatest part is that before we truck over there, she thought it best to come to the evening service in Kokomo so that we can leave straight from there. I shook my head this morning as I realized that this was a major answer to many weeks of prayer. I haven’t prayed in the way that I ought to have, but wow, God is faithful. I was just concentrating on working out the trip to Lafayette but here was my big chance to invite her to an actual worship service, and I didn’t even think about it – Mom had to suggest it. This whole thing came together when I wasn't looking for it at all. So you can be praying for her heart while in Kokomo, and for both of us in Lafayette with a group of mostly strangers. Oh, and pray that we get there safe and sound, I’ve never been to this city before and we’ll have to find everything in the dark!

::sigh:: The sun is out and I’ve been looking at a screen all morning. Sounds like a good time to break off and rake leaves. Watch for another post this evening with the continued adventures of Canny. There’s more to tell!

* This may be a good time to clarify my stance on the entire IU/Purdue question. Obviously, for a Hoosier who has spent all their days contemplating this aspect of their future, there can be party lines and wild color waving, and all of it matters. But for a Texan who could never even enter the Aggie v. UT debate with much fervor, for better or for worse, it all means peanuts. I landed in Indiana and find myself in a city called Kokomo which happens to have a university branch three miles down the road. Where am I going to school? Where I get both inexpensive education and fresh bran muffins every day. Now that I do go to IU however, I feel responsible to side with my own colors and staunchly say that IU is the best place in the world. With me, however, this never conflicts with the fact that some of my favorite people are die hard Boilermakers, had I settled in Lafayette I would have just as quickly thrown my cap in there. For now all alliances are tempered by particular situation, and living at home with those muffins sounds just fine to me.

P.P.S. The title was a reference to Psalm 115:1, but read it and keep going - it gets better

Secrets of the Kingdom

I started typing out my sermon notes a couple of weeks ago, found that they could be useful for a friend. We are in the midst of a fascinating series on the Psalms in the life of Christ and if I continue to get them typed out each week, I'd like to put them up here for anyone to read if they are interested.

Just a few things to bear in mind
1 These notes were written for a friend who shares all of my religious assumptions, so if it seems like a letter - it is! I went ahead and threw terms in there that I knew she'd know and left them in tact when I uploaded to the internet. If anyone finds these notes and starts cropping up problems, first see my two other points below, but then go ahead and comment objections/questions/confusion. If I can't re-hash it clearer for you I'll find someone who can.

2 I am not a pastor! These are layman observations from a layman who loves finding all sorts of conclusions/applications/rabbits-to-chase from solid teaching. If you've heard the sermon yourself (or, heaven forbid, if you are Mr. York) be gentle with those sections in brackets, my mind was whirling and I just put down what came in it.

3 These are simply notes, therefore they are the condensed form of the major points that stuck out to me, not a transcript of Mr. York's every word. If you read something that doesn't seem to smack right, you're probably right and I just made too many connections in my head and not on paper.

Sermon notes Oct 23, 2005

Breath of death

Just because I should be doing something else (writing two articles for the newspaper, one for the church, and one for Spanish class. seriously), does that mean I shouldn't blog? Aw, why not.

I agree with my wise mother that comments on teeny weeny posts like my last one only encourage laziness, but I love to hear from you guys! Today I got up at 8, a bit later than I am wont, but I knew that we'd be cleaning for guests that that seems decidedly easier than getting your brain all geared up to write. We had a great family from church over to lunch, the Brookshires, and they have two girls a bit younger than Ben. As they got here way before lunch began, we thought that we'd pull out Monopoly. Boy had it been a while! Amy was made Chief Banker and Teller while I was appointed Moderator of the Landed Gentry (I kept the place cards). This arrangement would seem to give us both a powerholding edge, but it was not to be. Not far into the game I was rather surprised to find that everyone had pulled way ahead of me. Houses and five hundred dollar bills were flying about while I rejoiced when I actually got into jail for a while so that I could stop paying rent. I had not thought my business skills to be so inferior, but by the end of the game all were counting their bills and slips (the bank ran out of money and manufactured some of it's own with lined paper) and I was lucky to have five hundred dollars. Amy, on the other hand, was coolly numbering bills into the thousands and was the winner when the game prematurely closed.

Speaking of spaghetti (yes we were) there was another appointment today that I couldn't seem to get right. The womenfolk were preparing the sumptuous Italian lunch, and since I could never chop tomatoes correctly I volunteered to make garlic toast. Ha, I thought, bread is a second nature to me [well at least it should be from the amounts I eat!] I'll have these little dudes so beautifully baked that you'd think they were made by Mussolini! Sadly, this was not far from the truth. Although I have by now learned the art of butteration and golden brown toasting, I still can't judge how much garlic salt to put on!! When we settled down for lunch I was happily tasting my masterpiece when a wave of astringent garliciness attacked my taste buds. I quietly gulped the raging tidbit and hoped that one bad bite on one bad piece. But a few minutes later, amid the chuckles and crunches of a happy meal, James gave a sly look my way and said, "Hmm, this toast is pretty... spicy!" Ah well, I think I'm doing some things right. I mean, if that's how my mentor cooked toast, it means that I wouldn't be such a hot national leader either!




Oh I just experienced a magnificent quote from my little brother. The things I'm privilaged to hear these days.

"Wow, I'm getting to the point that I have to pull the hair out with my earbuds, it's getting so long.

::silence::

I know that you didn't need to know that, but it's a new thing with me."

Bothers.

A week gone by and no post. If it is any comfort, last week was a cool week, an exciting week, an eventful-life-changing-direction-finding sort of week even.


And tomorrow I have a large Composition paper due.



And tonight's post is going to be wery short.












If you are wondering about the title (about the word itself, that is, not the period, I don't know where that came from) then this little notey will only help you or confuse you more:
If you are a family member or dear friend, I think that you may realize word that I might have used and suddenly become graitful.
If you are not and therefore clueless - consider yourself spared.
























































Congrats for scrolling all the way down here, but the post really was short, see?

Beauties and Dangers of the season

We have been having such beautiful colors lately. What with the sunrises, the sunsets, and the brilliant fall foliage it's hard to steer straight on the way to school! I have been taking a few pictures of the sky, but what I could get for you today was just a couple clips of the tops of trees (perhaps I’ll steal from James, the master photographer, soon but this is what I could get myself). Enjoy!




Silly me for moving my hand, but you certainly get the impact of the color.

I love how the leaves glow in the morning! The trees in our neighborhood look like the northern apples, layers of gold and red and green.

And yet after my beautiful travels, I was attacked by the local wildlife. Such menace and peril!!

Caught under a wall

I have a bone to pick tonight. Well, perhaps it’s more of a problem to diagnose, or maybe just a confession to make - but before we get to all of that, let me share with you the Tale of the Concrete Fisherman.

Once upon a time, there lived a well meaning chap who wanted to do some fishing. Having no block and tackle, he looked for and found a similar tool, hitched it up on his back, and began watching toward the stream, determinedly but awkwardly. When he found a spot that he liked, the fisherman swayed from side to side for a moment and then suddenly cast his fishing device straight into the river. For the tool he had chosen to catch fish with was a concrete wall.

After thus setting his fabulous-fish-catching-environment, the poor dolt waited for some water to build up, and crawled out onto the wall (which had remarkably fallen upright) in order to secure his prizes. There was a silvery flash below him – a fish! [Note: Please refrain from any vulgar exclamations of “to catch a fish/ so juicy swEEET!” until the narrative is complete –Ed.]

The foolish Fisherman stood in the middle of the river with his heels in the running water, batting at the fish which had collected below him. He let his hand first follow one and then another, teetering on the wall in his eagerness to grasp something. Soon, however, the pull of the whole stream was too much for him and he was swept back out into the current, still fitfully snatching at the fishes around him…

*********

Charming my dear, you’re probably thinking, But how on earth this relates to any nonsense under the sun is beyond me!

I guess that this story expresses how I’ve felt lately – just swept under the wave sometimes. Call it the ending of my freshman honeymoon period, call it a tiny spark of concerned responsibility, call it an irregular chocolate/coffee cycle (hey I’m working on that one), but in the midst of great classes and plenty of time to work I find myself unhappily loafing about like … well like a guy floating gently towards the water fall. Where do I like to put the blame? On the computer, of course.

With the advent of three writing classes this semester (Comp, Lit, and Journalism), I’ve spent a lot of time on the computer. But somewhere, among the necessary research, I found that I was loosing major chucks of time in black holes like “I’m-scoping-out-the- background-info-real-quick” or “That-extra-source-is-just-around -the-corner.” In the midst of wandering from link to link, bedtime would crop up and I would find that two and a half hours had disappeared into the fog.

The problem (for me) doesn’t stem from a rabid desire to defy sanity, or see how many web cookies I can munch on. The very allure of surfing is its usefulness. And at first, the endless possibilities of a search engine spread a cheerful glow over all my work. Did I need to profile a new professor in the Art Department? Ah ha! Here was a list from his old Alma Mater of all the art pieces he’d ever exhibited! Oh Ho! Here was another site that had all of the courses he taught at his last university! And best of all was that juice page of links which handed me all of the web sites which related to my thesis.

Riiiight.

And so, as I said before, I fell off the deep-end of search engines and resurfaced with some big holes in my day, day after day after day. That is why my complaint against being a Google writer came out in a story. If you stop and think about it, hoping to find a choice feast for your professor from one search word is a bit like throwing a wall into the creek for some fishes. It’s one thing to hope that a specific, authoritative web page will slosh up against your net; it’s another thing to plunge into a current of links that will teach you the meaning of “relevant” through the eyes of 54 different webmasters. The internet and its search options for a few occasions – yes. Search engines as the quick answer for all literary research – an unhappy no.

When I came out of the twilight zone I was greeted by Late Evening on Planet Earth, and believe me it was not a happy landing. As I wailed to my Mater one night, “Two hours in the middle of every day! Poof!! Gone!!” In the wordage of someone who to spent all of his time lifting rocks and mentoring padawans – Distressed I was.

So where does my story end, the bottom of the lake? Well, with all this water still in my eyes, I can't really say. But, if you’ve stuck with me this far, you deserve to have some concessions. I admit that you, the readed, might have gotten this revelation long ago. You may be thinking that anyone who imagines that Google and spell checker are the keys to happiness deserves to go over a waterfall or something. My answer is that redemption comes to the dolts of the world as well and I’m a work in progress. Since the evening of that outburst to my Mom, I’ve been aware of my tendency. Not totally victorious, but aware. I'm beginning to see that not only are there other ways to fish for thoughts, but better ways to discipline one's life. My hope is that tomorow I will find a footing or get some tackle and begin to learn to pull the perfect catch.

New innovations all the time

Hola, soy una loca ¿no?

Well, in our own language - I have indeed found a blog skin that I like very well. And if it lasts for two weeks, well we have a winner. But as I said, I am finding new ways of doing things all the time, trying to find that little artist in me somewhere.

Hence the colors on this post.

¿Te Gusta?
(That means - Do you like it? for y'all uno-lingual peeps!)

Sometimes...

you feel like a gutted fish

Spilling one’s guts

But please don’t do yours. I just got finished with mine.

Went down to Indianapolis this weekend, and it was s-WEET! They had a progressive dinner/costume party at 2^nd RP and Jims and I were privileged to attend. She went as an actress and I went as a reporter. Unfortunately we didn’t take many pictures, and the only picture that I could find was this one.

::cough:: We had a blast - the peeps down there were great, yummy lasagna, and uh, meaningful skits based on nursery rhymes. (I never knew that The Old Woman who lived in a Shoe had such modern application until now!) Is there any better way to spend a Saturday night?

Aaaanywho. In the lesser important realm of school, I’ve been doing articles on Lawrence of Arabia, skits in Spanish, other things that… I … can’t remember now.

Ben’s going down to Indi himself this weekend to participate in the Fall Ministry Project. It was a very cool time for us last year, but I’m too old now (and can’t really spare the time). It’s a good opportunity to have some fun with kids from all over Indiana, spend a night at the church, and then go out and spend Saturday working at the host congregations. Sycamore RPC (the congregation in Kokomo) is both sending youth down and hosting whoever gets chosen to come up here. We who are staying still get a piece of the action because we can volunteer to go up to the church ourselves and we may get to host some kids in our home. Pretty cool beans.

Urg. That phrase is the secret signal that I’ve absolutely run out of everything to say. Catch up with you later!

Oh, and I will be changing this skin until I find an accoutriating look, advise as you see fit. If you’re thinking that the word accoutriating is a big vague and may not even exist – hehehe you’re beginning to catch on…

Work, such as schoolwork or piecework, that is done at home [that's right, Homework!]

Though changing my blog skin was cleverly plotted to distract my readers (no real post in days after all), certain grumps have made it clear that they are not to be put off. Very well then, I shall tell you the tale.

First, I no longer have my job. Now now, don’t splutter popcorn all over your lap like that, it isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds! God has provided other means of income, and there are advantages in leaving the post of Main Building Custodian behind. The first reason is really God’s will. As Mom always reminds us “You don’t know what He’s sparing you from, when He takes something away!” She’s absolutely right, and not knowing what it is sounds good for me!

Of course what's one of the great side benefits? The same thing that slew Gollum’s kings and gnawed high mountains down. More Time! Extended duties at The Correspondent, long reading assignments from writing classes, the next level of Spanish, these things take my time and particularly my evening time. Quite often I feel that I’d trade two good hours of morning for an hour of evening; there’s nothing to distract you but what you must get accomplished before bed!

The last plus here is that I'm not really loosing money, I have two small sources of income which I didn’t have last semester. There's now a regular check from The Correspondent for my duties as the Entertainment & Reviews Editor, and a new babysitting job. I combined the two and they add up to about the same as what I got cleaning at the Mission. Now I’m working at (or falling headlong into!) the things I love. Huzzah! Huzzah! As Ginny very often says, God is so good!!

Whew! So this week has been my first week of free evenings , and woooooo badger have I needed it!! I had an uber hard, uber important paper due for Eng Composition last week (was it only last week and not lifetimes ago, my precious gray cells?). Anywho, that finally got, uh, turned in. This week on Monday evening (whither art thou oh cells?!) I had an uber UBER important Lit Criticism paper due, and it also landed on the prof’s desk in time. Alright, so both of these papers only averaged about 6 pages ::cough:: double spaced buuut, I'm just a fish so I can get all psyched up about it, right?

No?

oh.

Now that those are out of my hair (hair? I still have hair now?) methinks I’ll turn my attention to a newspaper article that is due Monday afternoon. Or how about the Review of Literature and the Research Proposal due for Composition? You see how these things go.

I certainly haven’t been without my fair share of fun and games in all of this. Right at the beginning of this long week, I and my forlorn brother found ourselves abandoned with a lone wiener - a single frankfurter! - in the fridge. It must be said that later that evening we noticed a note from Mom, “There are pot pies, burritos, and pizza in the freezer. Have fun!” Be we, for shame, did not see it (or them) and so what followed could not be directly blamed on us. There have since been splendid feasts of lasagna, or sloppy joes, but on this empty Monday night Ben and I broke from our bounds! We flung ourselves into gastronomic bliss and went to Sonic!! ::sigh:: I’ve wondered if the everyone understands what Sonic truly does for the world, but in our family it has always been the epitome of burger happiness Can you imagine, oh my tots, what followed? We visited, not one, but two ice cream parlors to sample and compare the mysteries of Peanut Butter Moose Tracks.

And, to conclude, I’ve been in front of a computer a lot lately, not the ideal place to spend one’s youth, and it has a way of making me an extreme grump myself. This evening, for something like 79 seconds, I slowed down down down, went outside, and took this. I couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful He has made His world.

p.s. There’s something going about that has me excited (if you know me, yes the hopping up and down, shaking my bangs kind of excited). I shan’t spill the beans now, just be aware that somewhere tonight there may be a cabbage all ebullient over something…

Muhahahahaaaaa!

Oh yes










I've done it again

Pirating

And I've never licked a spark plug
and I've never sniffed a stink bug,
and I've never painted daisies on a big red rubber ball,
and I've never bathed in yogurt
and I don't look good in leggings ..."
Pa: "You just don't get it!"

"And we've never been to Boston in the fall!"

What is a Cabbage doing right now? (please don't read this if you haven't been to my blog before!!!)

"Hmmmdmdmmdmm... "

::going around online and commenting::

::whistling::

And yet, what is so wrong with this picture? Is it possibly that the cabbage is supposed to be reasearching books on John Keats instead of commenting?? Evil Cabbage!

"Duwahdoowah!"
Silly carefree cabbage, no such sounds shall sound from her when it's 3 am before Oct 3 and that Keat's paper is due!

But what is this? A twix wrapper discarded on campus somwhere?! Evil little Cabbage!!

::bobbing around and fliding her way to other and other blogs, commenting on them as if there were no Tuesday (which for this week, there isn't any more, think about that one!)::

Look out oh brainless cabbage, Keats still sits on his library shelf and Rudy shall land in class in 10 minutes!!!

"Ah ha! One last blog to comment on!"

Buggers. This one's mine.

I am alive

But I don't have the time to blog now.

Last Friday the Correspondent held a 9-4 retreat (or call out) and of course all of the editors had to be there to cheer on the troops. That took all of that day.

On Saturday I spent a blissful day pouring over books on Ernest Hemingway for a 5-6 page paper on his story "Hills Like White Elephants" that's due soon. I'd only recommend it (the short story, not the paper) if you're over 18 and willing to be majorly depressed. Hey, then why did I read it??

Yesterday we had church in the morning, Fellowship lunch after that, and then many people stayed because there is a group of young people who finished a church membership class and were interviewed for uh, church membership! Then we had a special evening time as a local Baptist church invited us to come over and share with them about Psalm singing, very cool!

Today I have to go to school early to make up for a computer class that I missed on Friday. From thence I shall haste* me to lunch, spanish, and literature.


*You know that you're a good spanish student when you begin to wonder if this isn't pronounced ahs-teh!!!

Tootles!!

Thinking of you

It's my Granny's birthday today; she's the only one I've ever had. And since I've been thinking about including some more pictures on my blog, I thought this was the perfect opportunity to some things that remind me of her. A caption, a blurb of Ganny, if you will. Pictures taken 1000 miles away that show that she's close to me wherever I am.





This first one goes with a story that Granny told me when we were driving home from Lufkin one day. If you'd like to read the whole thing you can look back at a previous post. My main memory was laughing with Ganny harder than I've ever laughed before.





This one's inevitable, every time we set about to make gravy with Granny (or rather, watch her make the gravy) we have a big laugh about how the gravy grows while she's cooking it. Let me show you what I mean:

::Granny making some rue with steak grease and flour, sometimes she gets one of us to stir while she to the fridge for butter and lettuce::
::Granny comes back to the gravy and begins to add flour, and then goes off to the oven::
"Now, y'all will have to remind me about the rolls so that I don't forget 'em!"
::onlookers eye the gravy, portion still under control::
"Canny, will you mix up some tea?" Granny asks ::coolly adding more flour::
::the girls get ice from a hoary machine in the recesses of the freezer while Dad walks forward::
"Isn't this gravy too thick?"
"Yes, yes it is, Scooter can you get me some milk?" ::out comes milk::
::the onlookers eye as the gravy pan is engulfed in a white torrent::
"Oh the bread!" ::Granny comes just in time and eyes turn from the glistening lake of gravy to the hot rolls::
::the cooks returns:: "Alrighty, now we'll just put a little more flour in to thicken it up"
"Oh granny, the gravy looks great."
"Well, let's just add a bit more I know it's almost there..."

By meal time, with our two gallons of gravy, Granny is sure to exclaim that there is enough for Cox's army. I'd much rather have a picture (and a taste) of Holcomb Gravy right now, the best I could do was share a photo of the always-absent gang who were supposed to be there helping us eat. Sorry that we never got to meet them, Granny, but I'm sure they would have loved it awful much.





Well, it's just a can of hair spray to most of you, but it was something that we could always find in Granny's bathroom cabinet, and I remember sitting around with my sister one day and playing with that can, making up stories in our mind of which letters we'd press to take us away to exotic Australia. I've started to use more aerosol hairspray myself (as opposed to, ah hem, nothing at all) but when I get a purple Aussie in my hands, I know that the original ones belonged to Granny, and I remember how the littlest things in her home could conjure up magic for us.





Of course, Granny has made us somewhere near 0.84 tons of breakfast, lunch, and dinner by now. Whenever we've been off on a trip, and now when we visit from Indiana, it never fails that we find fresh milk or Bodacious BBQ or roast and cornbread smiling in the fridge. But back before that, back when it was the greatest adventure of all to spend a night at Ganny's house, there was Alto Gumbo. But what was ALWAYS in this fine dish that dismayed the heart of a 1st grader? Lima Beans. It's true. Although I'd just adore those old beans now in my seniority, I'm afraid that they were meticulously extracted back then. But I think that the tradition will carry on, as I plan to make my kids some Alto Gumbo some day, and then I shall eat it with relish!





And I know that is is one which Granny should know at once, not from the fact that I bugged her her about it to no end when I was 11, but that it belonged to her mother, Verna Holcomb Black. I hadn't had a real locket before and I loved the smooth, weathered face and large, simple frames for pictures. But though Granny was very proud that I liked it (which only increased when I found out whose it was), she refused my perpetual requests to keep it. 'Til finally came my birthday, and I opened a gift where the locked was resting on a new chain. Now I save it for special days, and take it out to wear every birthday. If ever there's a fire in our house, I know what I'll grab before hopping out the window. Some things are irreplaceable.

A thoughtful thought

In the words of Rafiki, "Change is good." Hair change, blog change, little sister age change (woot for your b-day cake Jims!! very good choice), and finaly brain change. Could perhaps the world keep the same and I change for a day?