Not (Entirely) My Fault

Last night I tried to log on to write a quick blog post, but Blogger was down. I'd like to say that my failure to get a post up yesterday wasn't my fault, but the fact that I didn't sit down to try until 11pm is no one's fault but my own (despite the fact it was 10pm before we got home from our church council meeting).
For the last 24 hours my thoughts have been circling around the pluses and minuses of sharing a call with my husband. When it is good, it is very very good, but when it is bad... horrid about sums it up.
By far, more days are very very good - I love that we are investing in the same congregation. I love that the Munchkin is cared for by one of us every day and that we don't have to drop her off at daycare. I love that we get to spend Christmas and Easter together. I love that we can try to work from our gifts and strengths, which are quite different. I love that the people I minister to and with also know my husband.
On the horrid side - sometimes we live in each others' pockets just a tad too much for comfort; sometimes the hard stuff from work comes home, and the hard stuff at home goes to work; sometimes it'd be nice to have a safe harbor at home to talk about difficulties with my colleague.
I think a lot about integration, and having a life that is all of a piece, but sometimes I wish I could draw tidy little compartmentalizing boundaries around parts of my world, and just be the wife and mom.

A day plus three years

Yesterday was our third wedding anniversary. Grant says it feels like we've been married that long to him. To me - sometimes it does and sometimes it doesn't. I guess it's just a good thing it doesn't feel like longer than that, right? And it's a good thing that most days we're very glad to be married to each other. We celebrated with a tasty dinner out, at The Emerson Grill - gotta love it when a half-off coupon arrives in the mail on your anniverary! The food was yummy (especially the calamari appetizer) and the setting was cozy, too. Neither of us had eaten there before, so it was a good treat. Even with the coupon, by the time we had an appetizer and entrees we'd blown through the cash my parents sent, so we went through the drive-through at McDonald's and each got a $1 hot fudge sundae for dessert, which we ate at home snuggled up on the couch in front of the fire. Not bad! One of the songs sung at our wedding was "Grow Old Along with Me," which I first heard performed by Mary Chapin Carpenter. When our soloist wasn't able to make it to Arizona from Montana for our wedding, one of my bridesmaids and one of Grant's brothers pinch sang/played the guitar, and it was lovely. I couldn't find a video of Mary Chapin Carpenter singing the song online, though there are some touching video/photo montages folks have put together to the song available on youtube. Here's a version with just the lyrics on the screen.

Tune Anticipation

Let the music begin!

Tomorrow morning at 10am the piano I inherited will finally be tuned. It had lived for several years at my parents' house (I don't know why they didn't want to ship it to me in Phoenix...) and they delivered it to our new house here in Bozeman over Reformation Sunday weekend in October.

Since its arrival we've been letting it acclimate to its new home, and every once in a while I'll sit down and struggle to play something from memory. Badly. Its out-of-tune-ness doesn't exactly help my mediocre ivory tickling skills.

However, there's a box in the garage labeled "Sheet Music" that I can hear calling my name. Sometime in the next couple of weeks I hope to drag it inside and sort through it, and begin to get the music back into my fingers. There was a time when I could lose whole afternoons at the piano, practicing the same hard measures until I could get them without looking, playing old favorites out of the hymnal.

I'm not sure how the man of the house will react to a functioning piano at our house. The piano room is dangerously close to the kitchen and family room where TV watching and napping happen. I hope he'll love it as much as I do. Maybe the Easter Bunny will end up bringing him some lessons.

Snacks vs. Ingredients

Grant and I ran a few errands today - a "quick" trip to Costco and Target, for things like salad greens and dog food. We did a turn through the Christmas tree ornaments at Target - I'm on the prowl for inexpensive star ornaments for use at church during the time after Epiphany. I found what I was looking for, and then we strolled down the aisles of Christmas candy, showing remarkable restraint. When we passed by the York Peppermint Patties I told Grant, "Those always taste like Christmas to me. Pepperminty, and so cool." "You should try the new mint chips I got at Trader Joe's," he said. I knew nothing of said mint chips. "Where are they?" I asked, knowing they weren't living among the snacks in the pantry. "With the other chocolate chips," he answered. And then I remembered. We have a fundamental difference between us. Grant thinks of chocolate chips as a snack. I think of chocolate chips as an ingredient. After a couple of disappointing beginnings to chocolate chip cookie dough over a span of a few months a few months ago (I KNEW I bought chips, where had they gone??) we now have TWO containers of chocolate chips. His and Hers. Snack and Ingredient. Now, perhaps to make cookies...

Thursday night as Sabbath eve

It's Thursday. Evening. Thank God. My husband/co-pastor and I take Fridays off and honor the day as our weekly sabbath, or stopping - at least we try to. It's not always easy, and even though we have a commitment not to do any "have to's" on our days off, they have a sinister way of creeping onto the day's agenda. I have one tomorrow: I must take our Honda Civic into the dealership to acquire the necessary bracket to attach a license plate to the front of the car. Arizona only has rear license plates, but Montana has two - front and back. The things you don't think about when buying a new car! But apart from that (and perhaps a load of laundry or two) there's not much in the way of to-do-lists for tomorrow, and I for one am especially glad. This has been a hard week for me. The play-by-play: Last Friday we got word of an offer on our house in Phoenix (the one it costs us a boatload to maintain with mortgage etc.). It was LOW, but we planned a counteroffer. Then we learned Saturday of a second offer, of a respectable amount. We decided instantly that we would accept it. Sunday we got as much of the paperwork done as necessary. By Monday lunch the buyers had a change of heart. I was willing to go back to the first buyer with our counter offer, husband: not so much. Knowing we could get more he wasn't willing to deal with the initial low offer. By Monday evening I'd fumed enough to let him have it: I'm working 22 hours a week or so at a groovy shoe store in the mall in Bozeman, and probably full-time as pastor of CtK (I don't keep track of hours because weeping comes pretty easy for me these days, and I'd rather not know). I've got more irons in the fire, ministry-wise, than he has, and he's still applying for part-time jobs. His getting-hired-difficulty seems to be "availability." I'm trying really hard not to resent how hard I'm working (and how hard he apparently is NOT working, at least according to me) but largely to no avail. I guess I was expecting this whole adventure to feel more like a team effort. Pray for me. And in my honor, please take a REAL day off this week. It might help you keep your sanity. I know it helps with mine. PS - I took a few minutes this evening to barely catch up with a couple of my favorite blogs. And found this great link for a post on Inexpensive Adventures. Right up my alley. PPS - Our congregation's new website, http://www.ctkbozeman.org/ is live. There are still kinks and blank spaces, but I'm feeling good about the progress we're making. Feedback, please.