Upon Cheryl's urging and Fritz's do-it-right-now reminder, I listened to a portion of the Lessons & Carols service from King's College in Cambridge. I see why they both like it so much. There's something about it that kinda chokes you up.
Pr Petersen cried while he was writing his sermon for Christmas. He noted that the tears sneak up on him more frequently at Christmas and Easter.
As I did exciting things on Wednesday (like clean the litter box and mop the floor and fold laundry and do an errand in town that involved driving past the Episcopal church) I pondered these things. (Nooooo. I was not pondering the cat box. I was pondering the Christmasy emotions.) Anyway, I had a thought. [Ta da!]
What is preached in Christian churches? Far too often the sermons and the Bible readings are about things like being kind those who are less fortunate, helping the elderly, giving more money to church and charities, even topics like politics and weight loss and "Christian" financial management.
But not at Christmas and Easter.
Even the churches that care oodles about making us into good little people tend to get it right at Christmas and Easter. They read Luke 2 and John 19-20. The sermons and hymns are about the incarnation, the passion, and the resurrection -- the historical events tied most closely to the forgiveness of sins in Christ's blood. (Now, don't go and give me counter examples. There are probably way too many. But, y'know, compared to other times in the church year, these are the times we particularly look at God's mercy instead of at ourselves.)
At Christmas and Easter, the Christian Church is ecumenically united in a way that cannot offend even the most conservative bronze-age Missourian. Furthermore, "it is necessary to everlasting salvation that a person believe faithfully the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Athanasian Creed) and, at these two high feasts, this is what we are all are focused on together.
So we listen to and sing about the most fundamental portions of the Creed, and we all do it together. Seems odd if that didn't bring tears of joy to our eyes.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Comfrey
After learning from a master herbalist that comfrey is totally awesome at healing cuts and other skin problems, I added a pound of comfrey leaf when I next ordered my spices and herbs. But I have no experience in making poultices. Whenever I try, I end up with all the poultice herb-gunk falling all over the place and not staying on the part of the body to which I presumably bound it. (Hey, lookie there, instructions that maybe even I could follow!)
Katie arrived a week ago for a visit of a couple of days. She had some sores on her hands. Alia had something on her eyebrow that looked like it might be a cold sore, but we're not really sure what it was. So we decided to experiment.
One shot glass, full of dried comfrey leaves.
Olive oil poured over the comfrey.
Heated briefly in the microwave for about 20 seconds.
We applied tiny drops of the oil infusion to Alia's cold sore, Katie's wounds, and a couple of itchy spots I had on my hands and arm.
WOW! That was speedy healing!
I don't know if plain olive oil would've done the same thing. But whatever it was, Katie and I were impressed.
She took home a baggie of comfrey leaves.
Katie arrived a week ago for a visit of a couple of days. She had some sores on her hands. Alia had something on her eyebrow that looked like it might be a cold sore, but we're not really sure what it was. So we decided to experiment.
One shot glass, full of dried comfrey leaves.
Olive oil poured over the comfrey.
Heated briefly in the microwave for about 20 seconds.
We applied tiny drops of the oil infusion to Alia's cold sore, Katie's wounds, and a couple of itchy spots I had on my hands and arm.
WOW! That was speedy healing!
I don't know if plain olive oil would've done the same thing. But whatever it was, Katie and I were impressed.
She took home a baggie of comfrey leaves.
Stability
The nice post-master smiled at me today as I mailed some textbooks to ebay customers. I'm getting to where I recognize the clerks at the post office here.
When Gary and I were first married, we expected to be moving all over. Even though we had two years of college left, we took an apartment that we would be allowed to rent for only a year. The fantastic rental price and the neighborhood was worth it, even though we'd have to find a second apartment. We knew there would be the move to sem, the move to vicarage, the move back to sem, and the move out to his first call. It was all an expected part of his education, and everybody else in his class was doing it too, so everything stayed in a state of flux, and that was okay.
After about half a year in Wautoma, I realized that we couldn't stay. The situation was transitional from the get-go. We would either move to the village where Gary had the mission-start, or there'd be some other change. We knew the time in the parsonage, and just a block from Wietings and three blocks from the library, was going to be short-lived.
So when we moved to the next place, I yearned for it to be permanent. Even when the pay was low, even when we found out that pastors stayed there only 2-3 years before moving on, even when midweek services were practically empty, I eventually came to accept that God was going to have us live there till we died, and there is definitely some comfort in that kind of rooted-ness.
So now we've moved again. It's getting close to a year now. I recognize some of the faces at the library and the grocery store and the post office. I should be following Tammy's lead (a friend who moved here less than a year before we did, and for the same reason) and doing more exploring to find the streets and the stores and the restaurants that are around here, trying to make myself feel at home. But I don't. I just do what I need to do to get by.
People tell me that this feeling of instability is good. (Well, at least, some people do.) They say we should not be attached to this world, but always feel like pilgrims on our way to our heavenly home. They say we should not be "stuck" or settled or too comfortable in our home, but always be ready to go wherever the Lord calls.
But I want to be settled and stable.
When Gary and I were first married, we expected to be moving all over. Even though we had two years of college left, we took an apartment that we would be allowed to rent for only a year. The fantastic rental price and the neighborhood was worth it, even though we'd have to find a second apartment. We knew there would be the move to sem, the move to vicarage, the move back to sem, and the move out to his first call. It was all an expected part of his education, and everybody else in his class was doing it too, so everything stayed in a state of flux, and that was okay.
After about half a year in Wautoma, I realized that we couldn't stay. The situation was transitional from the get-go. We would either move to the village where Gary had the mission-start, or there'd be some other change. We knew the time in the parsonage, and just a block from Wietings and three blocks from the library, was going to be short-lived.
So when we moved to the next place, I yearned for it to be permanent. Even when the pay was low, even when we found out that pastors stayed there only 2-3 years before moving on, even when midweek services were practically empty, I eventually came to accept that God was going to have us live there till we died, and there is definitely some comfort in that kind of rooted-ness.
So now we've moved again. It's getting close to a year now. I recognize some of the faces at the library and the grocery store and the post office. I should be following Tammy's lead (a friend who moved here less than a year before we did, and for the same reason) and doing more exploring to find the streets and the stores and the restaurants that are around here, trying to make myself feel at home. But I don't. I just do what I need to do to get by.
People tell me that this feeling of instability is good. (Well, at least, some people do.) They say we should not be attached to this world, but always feel like pilgrims on our way to our heavenly home. They say we should not be "stuck" or settled or too comfortable in our home, but always be ready to go wherever the Lord calls.
But I want to be settled and stable.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Blog-Worthy Accomplishment
I turned on the TV.
Yes, I did.
First time since we got the digital converter box last summer.
I wanted to listen to the Christmas music on PBS. Paul was in the living room. He gallantly jumped up to help his mother. But I insisted that he just sit down and laugh at my ineptitude, and give me minimal pointers only as requested.
And you know what?
I did it without his help!
Of course, I punched some wrong buttons and did some stupid things first. But eventually I got the television turned on AND the channel changed.
I think I deserve a big pat on the back.
By the way, smoothies made of raspberries, raw apple, pomegranate-blueberry juice, raw milk, raw banana, raw kiwi, and honey.... ooooooh, it makes your tastebuds happy. If only my tongue were as long as a giraffe's, then I could lick up the inside of the smoothie glass to savor every last drop. Mmmmm.
Yes, I did.
First time since we got the digital converter box last summer.
I wanted to listen to the Christmas music on PBS. Paul was in the living room. He gallantly jumped up to help his mother. But I insisted that he just sit down and laugh at my ineptitude, and give me minimal pointers only as requested.
And you know what?
I did it without his help!
Of course, I punched some wrong buttons and did some stupid things first. But eventually I got the television turned on AND the channel changed.
I think I deserve a big pat on the back.
By the way, smoothies made of raspberries, raw apple, pomegranate-blueberry juice, raw milk, raw banana, raw kiwi, and honey.... ooooooh, it makes your tastebuds happy. If only my tongue were as long as a giraffe's, then I could lick up the inside of the smoothie glass to savor every last drop. Mmmmm.
Cat Litter
Shooooot!
Poor kitties have to potty indoors because of the deep deep snow. I had to buy more litter and carefully scanned the boxes at the grocery store to ensure that I didn't bring home the stuff that "clumps." I have a septic system instead of city-sewer. It seems to me that flushing kitty-poops that have the clumpy litter stuck to it would be a very bad plan for my plumbing.
But today when I opened the new box to change their litter, I discovered the small print instructing me how to use clumping cat litter. Now what? We are accustomed to cleaning out the box every single time a kitty uses it. The kitties are too; they don't like a dirty litter box. But what am I going to do with poops that cannot be flushed? Right now, I am envisioning an environmentally-dangerous (and expensive) amount of plastic bags being used to dispose of smelly kitty-litter clumps multiple times daily.
Right now I am [perversely?] almost glad that Rosie accidentally missed the box when she gave it her first try. I picked the poops up off the floor next to the litter box and flushed them, and didn't have to deal with the nauseating smell remaining in the house. But then again, I really really don't want to be finding turds on the floor of the bathroom for the next month or so.
Poor kitties have to potty indoors because of the deep deep snow. I had to buy more litter and carefully scanned the boxes at the grocery store to ensure that I didn't bring home the stuff that "clumps." I have a septic system instead of city-sewer. It seems to me that flushing kitty-poops that have the clumpy litter stuck to it would be a very bad plan for my plumbing.
But today when I opened the new box to change their litter, I discovered the small print instructing me how to use clumping cat litter. Now what? We are accustomed to cleaning out the box every single time a kitty uses it. The kitties are too; they don't like a dirty litter box. But what am I going to do with poops that cannot be flushed? Right now, I am envisioning an environmentally-dangerous (and expensive) amount of plastic bags being used to dispose of smelly kitty-litter clumps multiple times daily.
Right now I am [perversely?] almost glad that Rosie accidentally missed the box when she gave it her first try. I picked the poops up off the floor next to the litter box and flushed them, and didn't have to deal with the nauseating smell remaining in the house. But then again, I really really don't want to be finding turds on the floor of the bathroom for the next month or so.
Today's Laugh
If something needs to be done right now,
do it yourself.
If you've got some time to do a project,
delegate it to someone else.
If you have forever to accomplish the task,
form a committee.
do it yourself.
If you've got some time to do a project,
delegate it to someone else.
If you have forever to accomplish the task,
form a committee.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Big Sin
My pastor has often said that God hides most of our sin from us. If we could actually see the full extent of our sin, it would destroy us. We could not bear it; we could not believe that Christ's atonement could ever forgive the hugeness of our sin. And so God allows us to see only enough of our sin to know our need for Him and to depend upon Him for our salvation.
God seems to know that no one can fully discern his errors (Ps 19). He seems to be content to sanctify us a bit at a time, drawing us ever closer to Himself. He seems to think that there is no way for us to be made free from sin as long as we continue in the flesh in this earthly life.
And yet, Christians often take it upon themselves to point out to each other all their failings and sins.
IF they had the vocation to care for the souls of those they are crushing, that would be one thing.
And IF they had the real answer (Jesus' forgiveness) for those whom they have crushed (instead of telling them how they can fix their behavior and be better trusters, better servers, better Christians), that too would be a little bit understandable.
But when the business is to point out to others how they haven't quite measured up in "walking the Christian walk" and in "amending their sinful ways," you wonder where these people find their comfort in the end. If they're telling me what to DO to be a better Christian, then is DOING where they find their own assurance that they are God's people?
God seems to know that no one can fully discern his errors (Ps 19). He seems to be content to sanctify us a bit at a time, drawing us ever closer to Himself. He seems to think that there is no way for us to be made free from sin as long as we continue in the flesh in this earthly life.
And yet, Christians often take it upon themselves to point out to each other all their failings and sins.
IF they had the vocation to care for the souls of those they are crushing, that would be one thing.
And IF they had the real answer (Jesus' forgiveness) for those whom they have crushed (instead of telling them how they can fix their behavior and be better trusters, better servers, better Christians), that too would be a little bit understandable.
But when the business is to point out to others how they haven't quite measured up in "walking the Christian walk" and in "amending their sinful ways," you wonder where these people find their comfort in the end. If they're telling me what to DO to be a better Christian, then is DOING where they find their own assurance that they are God's people?
Rethinking Snow-Blowers
I never wanted a snow blower. It seems that shovels do a better job of clearing the driveway. And it's another machine to maintain. That alone is a bigger disincentive than the price tag on the snow blower.
Today Pastor called and asked a simple question. I had no idea what the answer was.
This evening, as Maggie was helping me shovel the driveway, she asked if she should go here and I should go there, or what. I had no idea what to decide.
It's hard to know which load of laundry to throw in next.
The futility of coping with all this snow, and knowing that we're not even 1/3 of the way through winter, is making it hard to think. That physical labor should not so thoroughly deplete my ability to make simple decisions.
The neighbors have plenty of snow in their yards. But the "cut edge" in their driveways are only about 2' deep. They have snow blowers. Snow blowers throw the snow waaaaaaay out there into the middle of the yard. The snow doesn't pile up next to the drive, as high as my head, only as far away as I have muscle to pitch it.
I may have to rethink whether maintaining another engine is worth it.
Today Pastor called and asked a simple question. I had no idea what the answer was.
This evening, as Maggie was helping me shovel the driveway, she asked if she should go here and I should go there, or what. I had no idea what to decide.
It's hard to know which load of laundry to throw in next.
The futility of coping with all this snow, and knowing that we're not even 1/3 of the way through winter, is making it hard to think. That physical labor should not so thoroughly deplete my ability to make simple decisions.
The neighbors have plenty of snow in their yards. But the "cut edge" in their driveways are only about 2' deep. They have snow blowers. Snow blowers throw the snow waaaaaaay out there into the middle of the yard. The snow doesn't pile up next to the drive, as high as my head, only as far away as I have muscle to pitch it.
I may have to rethink whether maintaining another engine is worth it.
Large Families
Has anybody noticed how many homeschooling moms of large families struggle with depression?
I think that those who homeschool are prone to depression, in part because they want something so good for their children and their family, and then they find they cannot measure up to the high standards they so greatly desire to meet. And I think that moms of large families are prone to depression because there is so much they yearn to do in service to their families. When you put those two situations together, it seems more normal to face depression than seeing both mom & dad safe from it over the course of their child-raising years.
This is not to say that people should avoid having large families. And it is not to say that those with large families shouldn't homeschool. It's just odd to see those who have faced serious mental-health issues stumping for others to follow in their footsteps.
I think that those who homeschool are prone to depression, in part because they want something so good for their children and their family, and then they find they cannot measure up to the high standards they so greatly desire to meet. And I think that moms of large families are prone to depression because there is so much they yearn to do in service to their families. When you put those two situations together, it seems more normal to face depression than seeing both mom & dad safe from it over the course of their child-raising years.
This is not to say that people should avoid having large families. And it is not to say that those with large families shouldn't homeschool. It's just odd to see those who have faced serious mental-health issues stumping for others to follow in their footsteps.
Today's Laugh
A cowboy was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him.
The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?"
The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, Why not?"
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe PhotoShop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."
"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says the cowboy.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then the cowboy says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?"
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"
You're a Congressman for the U.S. Government," says the cowboy.
"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"
"No guessing required." answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you. You want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are.
And you don't know a thing about cows . . .
this is a herd of sheep.
Now give me back my dog."
The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, "If I tell you exactly how many cows and calves you have in your herd, will you give me a calf?"
The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, "Sure, Why not?"
The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high-resolution photo.
The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe PhotoShop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.
Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says, "You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves."
"That's right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves," says the cowboy.
He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.
Then the cowboy says to the young man, "Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?"
The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, "Okay, why not?"
You're a Congressman for the U.S. Government," says the cowboy.
"Wow! That's correct," says the yuppie, "but how did you guess that?"
"No guessing required." answered the cowboy. "You showed up here even though nobody called you. You want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are.
And you don't know a thing about cows . . .
this is a herd of sheep.
Now give me back my dog."
Monday, December 22, 2008
When Are theTwelve Days of Christmas?
This factoid may be obvious to many readers, but I have been bumping into the wrong idea a lot this year. The "twelve days of Christmas" are NOT now. Christmas Day is the first day of Christmas. St Stephen's (the 26th) is the second day of Christmastide. The twelfth day of Christmas is January 5, the last day of Christmastide prior to the change of seasons to Epiphany. It's not just the guys on the secular radio stations talking about the "twelve days" this year, but even Christians are confused on this.
All right. Speech done.
All right. Speech done.
Today
My pared-down goals for the day were to:
finish clearing snow off the driveway,
clean the bathrooms,
make supper,
buy milk,
make bread.
I had to BUY bread at the end of last week. With company and with snow-shoveling and with Lessons & Carols, we have done almost no housecleaning, not even the daily chores, and the yuckiness is beginning to get to me. And eating supper would be a nice idea.
I did not think this was an overly ambitious plan. When I see what needs to be done, this is barely a drop in the bucket. But I haven't started on bread or kombucha or cleaning or laundry or granola. I have no idea what we might eat for supper. All I've done so far today is buy milk and work on snow.
Thing is, with three hours of hard physical labor so far, picking away at the snow piles, I haven't even begun to clear the driveway yet. There was no place to PUT the drifts from Saturday night and Sunday. I have spent the day moving piles -- taking chest-high piles of snow and throwing them 5-10' further from the driveway, making massive eye-high piles of snow. At least now I've got a place to try to move the drifts to. And a place to put the snow that's due to fall from tonight until Wednesday night.
I think I'm going to have to buy more bread.
I think I'll take of my glasses before entering the bathroom. That way I won't be able to see the ick.
It's very cold outside.
Maggie is inside, barfing.
Gary was hoping we could go Christmas shopping tonight. There are no guarantees I'll still be awake by the time the guys get home from work at 5:30 or 6.
Do you know there are people who LIKE snow?
I'd like to say I'm done whining now,
but it would probably be a lie.
finish clearing snow off the driveway,
clean the bathrooms,
make supper,
buy milk,
make bread.
I had to BUY bread at the end of last week. With company and with snow-shoveling and with Lessons & Carols, we have done almost no housecleaning, not even the daily chores, and the yuckiness is beginning to get to me. And eating supper would be a nice idea.
I did not think this was an overly ambitious plan. When I see what needs to be done, this is barely a drop in the bucket. But I haven't started on bread or kombucha or cleaning or laundry or granola. I have no idea what we might eat for supper. All I've done so far today is buy milk and work on snow.
Thing is, with three hours of hard physical labor so far, picking away at the snow piles, I haven't even begun to clear the driveway yet. There was no place to PUT the drifts from Saturday night and Sunday. I have spent the day moving piles -- taking chest-high piles of snow and throwing them 5-10' further from the driveway, making massive eye-high piles of snow. At least now I've got a place to try to move the drifts to. And a place to put the snow that's due to fall from tonight until Wednesday night.
I think I'm going to have to buy more bread.
I think I'll take of my glasses before entering the bathroom. That way I won't be able to see the ick.
It's very cold outside.
Maggie is inside, barfing.
Gary was hoping we could go Christmas shopping tonight. There are no guarantees I'll still be awake by the time the guys get home from work at 5:30 or 6.
Do you know there are people who LIKE snow?
I'd like to say I'm done whining now,
but it would probably be a lie.
Today's Laugh
One of Karin's kids wants to know why the Virgin Mary is so skinny after just having a baby.
While I would respond, "Because life is not fair,"
Karin had a better answer.
While I would respond, "Because life is not fair,"
Karin had a better answer.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Christmas Tree
I'm going nuts. I want so badly to water the tree!
This is our first year ever to have a fake tree. There's something unsettling about its not being real. For instance, I miss the piney smell. And yet, there was neither money nor time to buy a real tree. In the middle of January last year, we found a very nice artificial tree on clearance, for less money than one real tree would cost. Thinking ahead, I bought the fake tree.
It's actually very pretty. We tend to get Charlie-Brown trees. This one is NOT our typical scraggly penny-pinching tree.
I was surprised to discover that our arms and hands were poked and scratched from the artificial tree just as much as from the real ones. But what confuses me is the sudden panic out of nowhere: "Oh no! It's been a long time since I watered the tree! I better do it right away before it sucks up all the water and goes dry!!!" And then I realize that there's no place to put water. Gary told me that I could put a bucket or dish under the tree so that I'd have a place to pour water, y'know, just to satisfy that craving.
The tree went up very early this year -- the evening of the 12th. For quite a few years we've been setting up the tree around the 22nd, give or take a day. I don't know how I would've pulled off the tree set-up. So Gary took it upon himself to tackle this Christmas-decoration project. With Lessons & Carols this weekend and a very long choir practice the previous day, and with the kids here from out of town, and with Gary and the boys working every day until 5:00 on the 24th, the tree set-up had to be last weekend, or not at all. It was so nice of Gary to come up with the plan for decorating, and nice of Andrew to do so much to build and fluff the tree and then to put all the lights on.
This is our first year ever to have a fake tree. There's something unsettling about its not being real. For instance, I miss the piney smell. And yet, there was neither money nor time to buy a real tree. In the middle of January last year, we found a very nice artificial tree on clearance, for less money than one real tree would cost. Thinking ahead, I bought the fake tree.
It's actually very pretty. We tend to get Charlie-Brown trees. This one is NOT our typical scraggly penny-pinching tree.
I was surprised to discover that our arms and hands were poked and scratched from the artificial tree just as much as from the real ones. But what confuses me is the sudden panic out of nowhere: "Oh no! It's been a long time since I watered the tree! I better do it right away before it sucks up all the water and goes dry!!!" And then I realize that there's no place to put water. Gary told me that I could put a bucket or dish under the tree so that I'd have a place to pour water, y'know, just to satisfy that craving.
The tree went up very early this year -- the evening of the 12th. For quite a few years we've been setting up the tree around the 22nd, give or take a day. I don't know how I would've pulled off the tree set-up. So Gary took it upon himself to tackle this Christmas-decoration project. With Lessons & Carols this weekend and a very long choir practice the previous day, and with the kids here from out of town, and with Gary and the boys working every day until 5:00 on the 24th, the tree set-up had to be last weekend, or not at all. It was so nice of Gary to come up with the plan for decorating, and nice of Andrew to do so much to build and fluff the tree and then to put all the lights on.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Lighten the Darkness
The collect from Sunday implores that God would lighten the darkness of our hearts by His gracious visitation.
After a cruddy day on Wednesday, it is such a relief that He does indeed answer those prayers. Church on Wednesday night, the sacraments, a long choir rehearsal full of Christmas hymnody, and then a Thursday morning of Matins and Bible study...
It may not solve any of the problems, but
His visitation does indeed lighten the darkness of our hearts.
What was that Luther said about music driving away the devil?
After a cruddy day on Wednesday, it is such a relief that He does indeed answer those prayers. Church on Wednesday night, the sacraments, a long choir rehearsal full of Christmas hymnody, and then a Thursday morning of Matins and Bible study...
It may not solve any of the problems, but
His visitation does indeed lighten the darkness of our hearts.
What was that Luther said about music driving away the devil?
Snow Day
We worked hard to be clearing the driveway this morning, even as the snow continued to pour down. I figured with 8" on the ground and no sign of letting up, we might as well start to whittle away at the snow-dump.
At 10:30, Andrew and Paul's boss called to say that their "late-start day" was being morphed into a "don't-come-in day."
When the snow plows finally came through the neighborhood at 11:30, Philip cleared the blockage of the entry to the driveway and headed off to work. He figured once he got onto the state and US highways, it should be much better than on the little dead-end roads in our neighborhood. Uh,... didn't work that way. He got out on the big road and it was worse than our little streets. He turned around and came back.
Gary never did head in to the office. But the company had warned people last night to be sure to take home their laptop computers and charged-up cell phones so that they could work from home today if necessary. It was necessary. So here's where Gary spent most of the day
But, hey, it's cool that he got paid! And he got to be around Alia today. Even though his attention was focused on work, how could you not smile as somebody passed through the room with a little darlin'?
At 10:30, Andrew and Paul's boss called to say that their "late-start day" was being morphed into a "don't-come-in day."
When the snow plows finally came through the neighborhood at 11:30, Philip cleared the blockage of the entry to the driveway and headed off to work. He figured once he got onto the state and US highways, it should be much better than on the little dead-end roads in our neighborhood. Uh,... didn't work that way. He got out on the big road and it was worse than our little streets. He turned around and came back.
Gary never did head in to the office. But the company had warned people last night to be sure to take home their laptop computers and charged-up cell phones so that they could work from home today if necessary. It was necessary. So here's where Gary spent most of the day
But, hey, it's cool that he got paid! And he got to be around Alia today. Even though his attention was focused on work, how could you not smile as somebody passed through the room with a little darlin'?
Beer Bread
I don't have self-rising flour in the house. Beer bread is a standard recipe that is recorded in nearly every church ladies' cookbook I own. And rightly so -- it's delicious and simple! But the recipes all call for self-rising flour.
Seeing as how we spent time shoveling snow and making goo-goo eyes at Alia today, I didn't get around to making bread. And with company in the house, breakfast toast and lunch sandwiches depleted the supply of bread in the freezer. Oops. Quickie bread for supper it is:
1 ½ cups ww flour
1 ½ cups white flour
1 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 can beer
1/4 cup water
1/2 stick melted butter
Thanks to Farmgirl, I found a recipe that doesn't call for self-rising flour. Hooray!
Mix the dry ingredients. Add the beer and extra water. (If you're making the bread with white flour only, you don't need the extra liquid.) Beat. Pour into well-greased 9x5" loaf pan. Pour melted butter over the top of the batter. Bake at 375° for about an hour. Let cool in pan about 10 minutes before removing bread to cooling rack.
Seeing as how we spent time shoveling snow and making goo-goo eyes at Alia today, I didn't get around to making bread. And with company in the house, breakfast toast and lunch sandwiches depleted the supply of bread in the freezer. Oops. Quickie bread for supper it is:
1 ½ cups ww flour
1 ½ cups white flour
1 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 can beer
1/4 cup water
1/2 stick melted butter
Thanks to Farmgirl, I found a recipe that doesn't call for self-rising flour. Hooray!
Mix the dry ingredients. Add the beer and extra water. (If you're making the bread with white flour only, you don't need the extra liquid.) Beat. Pour into well-greased 9x5" loaf pan. Pour melted butter over the top of the batter. Bake at 375° for about an hour. Let cool in pan about 10 minutes before removing bread to cooling rack.
Birthday Dinner
In a convenient confluence of dates, it just so happens that two wonderful men (with absolutely wonderful wives) happen to have birthdays just a day or so apart from mine. Two years ago we celebrated together at a rib restaurant. Last year Gary and I were too wiped out from life to even think of celebrating. This year I hoped to spend the birthday money from my mommy & daddy at a nearby restaurant with an awesome atmosphere and blow-ya-away food. Happily, it turns out that Kathy has been wanting to visit this restaurant for thirty years ... no, no, I know you don't believe she could've wanted anything for 30 years, but believe it or not, we are that old.
Laura and I forgot our cameras, but Kathy remembered, and here's what she got:
Laura and I forgot our cameras, but Kathy remembered, and here's what she got:
Today's Laugh
It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me, "Is that a dog you got back there?" he asked.
"It sure is," I replied.
Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, "What'd he do?"
A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, "Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit."
"And why not, darling?"
"You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning. "
While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: "Glory be to the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes."
A little boy opened the big family bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages.
"Mama, look what I found," the boy called out.
"What have you got there, dear?"
With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, "I think it's Adam's underwear.
"It sure is," I replied.
Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, "What'd he do?"
A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, "Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit."
"And why not, darling?"
"You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning. "
While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: "Glory be to the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes."
A little boy opened the big family bible. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages.
"Mama, look what I found," the boy called out.
"What have you got there, dear?"
With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, "I think it's Adam's underwear.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
