In a Blue Mood, I Mean Moon

Happy New Year - hope all my friends are celebrating in ways that make them glad. With Grant in California this week I'm spending the evening in a slightly less than conventional way: tried to get the congregation's newsletter finished, opened up the church for the Gallatin Valley Interfaith Association's annual Labyrinth Walk (still plan to walk it myself before the day is over), then I headed down to our local co-op, where we are working members, to help take down all of December's sale signs and put up January's. It's an okay job, and due to the holiday we got to start early tonight. Not bad. When I left the co-op a light snow was falling. It's beautiful, but it means no admiring the blue moon tonight. Bummer. So, here's a great song sung by Nanci Griffith (a favorite of mine during college days). I'll aim for some new year's reflections tomorrow...

Dining Room Organization Duet

Once again it has gotten late. Technically it's tomorrow, but I'm so close to finishing NaBloPoMo that I am thankful once again I haven't changed the time zone on my blogger settings... A college friend of mine, who also moved to Bozeman last year, came over this evening to help me sort out boxes in our dining room. We still don't have a dining room table in the dining room, which has made it a convenient catch all for all kinds of things, including half-unpacked boxes of china, crystal, and heirloom dishes and silver. Now it is organized, and quite a thing of beauty. The pile of "figure out what to do with this" stuff isn't too big, and I will confess has more things originally belonging to Grant than to me, but it feels good to have at least one more space in the house a little more organized and tidy. At this point things mostly have places, and are mostly in them. We'll see how long that lasts. The great thing about having this friend over was that she gets as excited as I do about vintage textiles, dishes that belonged to my great-grandmother, and that when I held up my Grandma's butter ball paddles she instantly knew what they were. We even looked online to find out how to make butter balls. Someday I will be the ultimate hostess, just like my grandmother always was, perfect butter balls and everything. Enough for tonight, it's past my bedtime and I'm afraid this stream of consciousness might spill over its banks in unseemly ways... Happy 6th day of Christmas!

Plan B

Surprise, surprise, the day didn't exactly go as planned (read yesterday's post for more info). It's not entirely my fault, though. The plan included a fun social event, the plan for which was hatched on Christmas Eve Day. While Grant led worship up at the hospital I headed to some members'/friends' house for a spaghetti dinner. Another family was there, too, and the three of us women decided we'd like to get together to make some more Christmas cookies, particularly of the more labor intensive variety: krumkaker and rosettes. I volunteered our kitchen, since I knew that would be motivation to clean, plus I have a krumkaker iron and all the equipment for rosettes. (Mind you, I've never actually made rosettes - the whole pot of hot oil has always been a little intimidating to me. I was looking forward to learning from a pro). I also invited two more women from church to join us, so we would be five. Good thing our kitchen is big enough to accomodate that many butts. Unfortunately, our experienced rosette maker had to cancel. We'll reschedule some time in January, so I'll still get practice with the cookie making. I thought I might make krumkaker on my own today, but never got that far.

After the plan for the day was derailed I ended up riding whatever whim took hold... Got a lot done in the project room, though it's still in that "it always gets worse before it gets better" stage. I remain hopeful.

Tomorrow will find me in the office, trying to cram as much work as possible into a single work day. I'm hoping I can plan the work and then work the plan. Happy 5th day of Christmas!

An organizational adventure

I had a whole day to myself today to do exactly as I wanted. That doesn't happen very often, really... And of course while I would have loved to get into "The Project Room" (our bonus room above the garage) to play, the state of the project room made that impossible. It is a disaster. And the disaster is my fault. During this relatively slow week between Christmas and New Year I am hoping to make some serious headway in the home and life organizing departments. I cleaned out our pantry and refrigerator this morning (we had nearly a dozen random zip-top plastic bags floating around the pantry shelves. Why? I have no idea). That felt good. Managed a few other routine household chores, and drew thick lines through them on the day's to-do list. Then I ran a few errands: picked up some "fabric drawers," which I think is a fancy way of saying collapsible cloth baskets - to corral the jumble of hats, gloves and scarves in our hall closet; got some yarn on sale - hopeful about getting a prayer shawl ministry up and going at church; got a few cute cookie tins at 60% off, which will come in handy for gifts next year; and various other necessary things, like milk. The late afternoon and evening found me working on thank you notes and Christmas card, and finally, the project room. It will be an ongoing project, but that's okay. There are still multiple boxes in there which we haven't touched since we moved up here from Phoenix, they've waited this long, they can wait a little longer. Part of my hope for getting slightly more organized is management of time. I excel at creating monster to-do lists, unfortunately I rarely succeed at getting everything done. During my library adventure last week I picked up a copy of Time Management from the Inside Out by Julie Morgenstern. She advocates using a Time Map, which is something I've sort of been doing for the last few months, even before I got her book. I get out of whack a lot, though, and I think I've discovered the two primary reasons why: I am lousy at estimating how long tasks will take, and I am really good at letting myself get interrupted - by others and by myself. I have created a map for tomorrow. I'll let you know how off track I end up. :)

2009 in Pictures

The year in photos from The New York Times - some powerful pictures.

On the second day of Christmas

Happy second day of Christmas! It really does make me crazy that all the stores and TV stations think that Christmas is "over." Too bad we're not better at celebrating all twelve days of Christmas in our culture (I imagine Target is fully decked out for Valentine's Day by now, though I very happily stayed away from the shops today). At least the poinsettias and decorations will be up at church until after the second Sunday of Christmas. It's always fun to remind people that Christmas lasts until January 5th. And it's a good thing for me - I still have favorite Christmas cookies to bake, and we're very much enjoying the tree and lights and the fact that we actually got our house slightly more organized in order to have a dinner guest. I think we should start doing a lot more entertaining! The picture is from www.abc-machine-embroidery-designs.com

Yuletide Greetings

Merry Christmas! We had a lovely day in Bozeman - a few snowflakes fell as the sun came up and while we opened our packages - it was a little like being in a snowglobe. Worship this morning was considerably more intimate than last night, which was to be expected. I always think it's amazing how few congregations even have a service on Christmas Day, and am glad we do, even though it is fairly small. We began with "Carols By Request" - letting folks choose their favorite carols to sing. It's one way to get more music in, since we don't sing too many Christmas carols during Advent. After returning home we had lunch, talked to our parents and then took naps before getting ready for Christmas dinner. We'd invited a member of our congregation to join us - she's an international graduate student at MSU and is a lot of fun. Her tales of Christmas in Zimbabwe were interesting - definitely not like Christmas in Bozeman! Hope you enjoyed the first of the twelve days of Christmas. Merry merry!

Children's Sermon Fire and Fun

It should be easier for me than it is to come up with a Christmas Eve Children's Sermon. I mean really, they know the story, there will be lots of kids present, and everyone is waiting for something cute or sentimental to happen. Out of the mouths of babes, right?

Alas, it proved a dauting enough challenge this year. I've done candy canes and birthday candles, the tradition in my first call was for an actual birthday cake with lots of frosting (which we all got to sink a finger into) and the singing of happy birthday to Jesus. I had hoped for new and interesting inspiration to strike. Oh well...

I've been enjoying candlelight this year, and instead of doing regular old birthday candles this year (though there's a very good chance I'll break them out again next year) for kids to take home and stick in their breakfasts to sing happy birthday to Jesus tomorrow morning, I'm giving out tea lights, to be lit on each of the 12 days of Christmas, to help us remember that Jesus is the light of the world. We'll talk a little about the names and titles we use for Jesus (a theme which figures heavily in the "grown-up" sermon as well) and thank God for the light.

I even made a new Wordle, and printed out postcard sized versions of it to attach to the candles. Happy Christmas!!

Next Year's Christmas Presents

I had a delightful lunch today with a member of my congregation, who is also becoming a friend (is that fair to say, N?). I've found it difficult to make friends here in Bozeman, as so much of my time is spent on/in/with activities of the congregation, and the folks who can be friends with a pastor (especially their own pastor) tend to be few and far between, in my experience. That's not all bad, it keeps roles well defined and clear. But as a 30something woman without children, it makes for a lonelier life than I would like. Funny how kids are the "in" for so many. But that's all fodder for a post at a later date. One of the most intriguing parts of our lunchtime conversation centered on Christmas gift giving patterns in our family circles. It's the pretty standard "go and buy stuff" regime in my family. We try to be as thoughtful about it as possible, but gifts are still expected all the way around. There are other ways to do things, of course. Last year we drew names on Grant's side of the family, for the brothers and wives, which was great, but didn't happen this year. And my new friend has another alternative: no gifts exchanged among the adults, and only modest gifts for the kids. Instead of buying another candle or something that no one really needs, they donate money to causes/groups/charities of their choosing, and then exchange cards telling all about the work they've supported. In addition to the congregational giving tree, her family has used an organization called Donors Choose to support educational and classroom projects in schools around the country. Sounds good to me - now I just have to convince my family!

*8 Things: To Enjoy in the Dark

Rachelle Mee Chapman over on Magpie Girl has a game called *8 Things - she made it up one day to get some focus in the midst of an abundance of thoughts. She says, "*8 Things is a way for me to keep collections of ideas, thought, quotes and quanderies on-hand for later exploration." Her latest list is Winter Solstice related: 8 things to enjoy in the dark. Here's my list: 1. Sleep. Duh. It seems the older I get the better I am at sleeping, which I think is fairly unusual. Of course I was sleep deprived for much of my adolescence and early adulthood. I figure I'm making up for lost time. 2. Read. I've been reading mostly nonfiction lately, though I do have a copy of Barbara Kingsolver's latest book to read at some point during the slow days between Christmas and New Year's. I also made it to the library today, delivering a bag full of magazines to the bins in the lobby (it's a groovy way to re-use magazines before they get recycled), and then checking out 16 more nonfiction books. It makes me glad to have stacks of ideas nearby, even though the chance of making any meaningful headway into them all before they're due January 12th is pretty slim. How I love my library card!! 3. Bake. Grant's the cook in our house, I'm the baker: cookies, cakes, bread (though not enough of that lately). The holidays provide a handy excuse. Sometime between now and Christmas I'm still hoping to get Grandma's krumkake iron out and get to the buttery goodness. 4. Write. Writing might not have made it onto my list if I'd done this last year. But after a winning NaNoWriMo, and a so-far successful December NaBloPoMo, it would be accurate to say I am a writer. I even made it back into my journal today - and it felt good to have a pen in my hand and my hand in a book instead of on the keyboard. 5. Get back in touch. I used to be a much better letter writer than I have been lately, but the long evenings do inspire me to reconnect with folks I've been out of touch with. Facebook helps, but phone calls are better. And when I really get inspired I still put pen to paper and get out the postage stamps. This year's Christmas cards continue to be a work in progress. Good thing I'm a big believer in celebrating all 12 days of Christmas! 6. Needle crafts. Knit, crochet, cross stitch, beading (yes, with a needle) - the winter months usually find me with more than one project going on. At the moment I'm only working on one, though, a Christmas present for my mother-in-law. It's nearly done, I think it will be ready to go into the suitcase in time for the next visit! (I'll try to remember to take and post a picture when it's done). 7. Organize. I am perpetually unorganized, but when the weather gets crazy, night falls early and there's only so much TV I can take and my eyes are tired from reading, it's time to get out the junk drawer and go through it. And then maybe tackle a closet. And the pantry. And the refrigerator (no matter how hard we try to avoid it we usually end up with at least one science experiment going on in there...) Anybody want to come over and play organized? 8. Evaluate and plan. This goes along with the writing, and this year the reading as well, and perhaps also the organizing. This time of year gets me thinking about the year that's nearly over and wondering about the year to come. I am an accomplished maker of lists, and the last couple weeks of December always find me writing not just to do lists and shopping lists, but dream lists, idea lists, book lists, project lists, etc. What are your 8 things to enjoy in the dark?

Ready for the Light

Happy Winter Solstice! I am looking forward to a little more sunshine, though with the Weather Channel forecasting a 100% chance of precipitation in Bozeman tomorrow, I may have to wait a day or two... I thought of this song by Dar Williams today. A good one for solstice.

The Stuffing of the Sock

I need help (no snide remarks necessary, thank you). Christmas is only 5 days away. The stockings soon will be hung by the chimney with care - well, on the mantle over the gas fireplace at least (no chimney involved), and I will be responsible for filling one of them. SO - what to put in the stocking of a 47 year old male pastor? I've got a couple of things, and have asked him for a list (which so far includes a new tooth brush, a tin of Altoids, brown shoelaces, black shoelaces (he's getting crazy here) and one Montana scratch lottery ticket in honor of my Grandma Muggie who put a lottery ticket in everyone's stocking each year). It's a good list, a fairly practical list, really, but not all that much fun. Thus I am taking suggestions. Grant: no fair peeking at the comments. Santa's watching...

Another "First Annual"

This afternoon found us back at the hospital - to go Christmas caroling with folks from the congregation. I found out after our singing slot was scheduled that a significant number of folks from church would be at another member's Christmas Open House this afternoon (we weren't invited, which is fine; I'll just have to remember to find out ahead of time when it is next year...) and was nervous that there'd be only 4 or 5 of us to sing. I shouldn't have worried: a group of 12 of us gathered, including 5 children, to sing carols and songs in each of the wings of the hospital. Fortunately there were some amazing voices, so we managed four parts on a few of the old favorites. Not bad. And again it was fun to offer a simple surprise to staff - and patients, too. As we waited for the elevator to take us back to the first floor after our singing was done, one of the participants said how much she enjoyed the hour of carols, remarking on how appreciative everyone was. "First annual," she said. And a tradition was born. Pictures from last night's adventure are on our congregational blog, Rooted. Pretty fun!

Midnight Cookies

It's late. After midnight, actually, though blogger thinks I'm on the west coast, so I still have a few minutes to make my deadline. It's still Friday night in my world... We're just back after "Midnight Cookies" - a high school youth event I brought from the congregation I served in Kalispell. Four youth, two moms and I met in the church kitchen at 9pm and baked and decorated cookies til nearly 11pm. We put them on festive plates, along with some Hershey's kisses and peppermint candies, wrapped them up with homemade cards and postcard sized invitations to the congregation's Christmas services, then loaded the cars and hit the road. We delivered plates of goodies to the local fire station, 911 dispatch center, police station, sherriff's office, and each nurses' station at the hospital (Grant came as our escort, since he's on staff at the hospital and knows his way around). Everyone was delighted to see us, and more than a little surprised. I'm hoping this will become a great youth tradition at CtK - and that next year those receiving cookies will remember us. Too often I forget to be thankful for the folks who work the night shift to help keep our community safe and healthy. It's fun to remember them and try to do something nice, and to do so on their turf, and their time. How often do they get freshly baked cookies at midnight? Probably not often enough.

Hopeful about Mutuality

We had our first Mutual Ministry Committee meeting tonight. My first MMC meeting EVER, even though a Mutual Ministry Committee is the ONE committee required in every ELCA congregation. I'm 17 months into my third call and this is the first time I've had a committee like this, and it wasn't all that easy to put together. Along the way, when I asked colleagues about their own experiences with such groups, I received a wide range of responses, from "I'll never do that again," to "total life saver." I'm not sure yet what accounts for the differences in experience. Was it the pastor? The parishioners on the committee? Poorly (or brilliantly) articulated reasons for the committee to exist? Ability to maintain confidentiality? Process breakdown? We were careful in selecting folks for the committee. More than half of those we asked declined, so now there are four: two women, two men, plus the two of us. I am hopeful. I don't expect that this group will instantly make my work and life easier, and I pray that our meetings don't turn into reciprocal complaining sessions. But it feels good to know that there's a friendly group paying attention to our ministry and the ministry of the congregation with the goals of learning, growing in faith, and being the people of God in ministry TOGETHER. We meet again in a month. We'll see...

Mary's Song

I'm preaching this weekend, and so have the Magnificat on the brain. It's not a bad state to be in, really, though I'm still waiting on the Spirit to help me narrow down my sermon. My tendency lately is to have more than one sermon mushed together, which isn't exactly helpful. We'll be singing "Canticle of the Turning," a hymn I like a lot, despite the fact that we all end up sounding so cheerful about a turning upside down of the status quo. I'm not so sure those of us who really are pretty privileged, in the grand scheme of things, should be quite so happy about the rich being sent away empty... Anyway, thinking about Mary's song also made me think about this song I was glad to stumble upon a while back. The singer is Catherine Hessler, a UW classmate of mine (we took Scandinavian linguistics together, and maybe one or two other classes - she studied Swedish while I studied Norwegian, and we were both involved in the university ministries at University Presbyterian Church - she much more so than I). The song's composer, Katie Freeze, can be seen at the keyboard in the video (she was a couple of years behind us at UW, and also a UPC-er). As Catherine writes on her website: "How Many Angels" is Mary’s Song, an interpretation of the reflections of this new young mother after the baby Jesus was born. Mary holds the little miracle in her arms and knows that the angels too rejoice over his life. A life that will change the world. Mary considers both the enormity and the grace of her situation. With wonder and humility she embraces the truth that God chose her to play a beautiful role in the life of the Savior. Hope you like the song.

Christmas Cards sans "The Letter"

I'm more than a little behind on sending Christmas cards, having sent all of four or five so far. I keep reminding myself that Christmas doesn't even START until after sundown on Christmas Eve, and then lasts for 12 whole days, but the "busiest day for the USPS" news segment last night re-ignited my culture driven angst. While I am sending cards, I'm not writing a Christmas letter this year (the man of the house wants to write one, which is fine, but I'm not sending one in "my" cards). I figure the defining moments of my year aren't exactly things most people want to read about while sipping cocoa and watching the lights twinkle on their Christmas trees. Instead I am penning simple greetings on each card and calling it good enough. I actually managed to watch two hours of TV last night. I try to catch Jay Leno on Mondays because he does "Headlines" which always crack me up. Last night he also welcomed "Garfunkel and Oates" - a hilarious duo with a hilarious song. Enjoy!!

New Press to Me

The January-February 2010 issue of the Utne Reader arrived in our mailbox today. I look forward to having a little more time to sit down and read the longer articles. I know I'm busier than I want to be when I check to see how long something is before I start reading it... One of the things I like about the magazine is how it introduces me to so many other magazines, journals, websites, etc., which I would never find on my own. One story that grabbed my attention in this new issue was excerpted from Calyx, "a feminist literary journal published by the press of the same name, both of which nurture women's creativity." What's not to like about that, right? The Calyx website doesn't grant too much access to the content of its journal - fair enough, they've got to pay the bills somehow. I'm intrigued enough to look for it the next time I find myself next to a magazine rack that goes on forever. I'm not sure the Barnes & Noble here in Bozeman carries it. We'll see. What are some of the new, or new-to-you websites, journals, etc. that are sources of inspiration in these short days and dark nights of December?

Sleeping On It

It was a good day for us today. Between services we had our children's Christmas program, including some musical offerings and poetry readings from the middle school and high school youth. We are blessed with some extremely talented youth - I just wish I had a video camera to record and post some of their songs. Alas... I attended a good Nominating Committee meeting - one of those things they never teach you about in seminary... We had planned for a couple of weeks to put our Christmas tree up tonight. So, after a serious vacuuming and mopping of the laminate floor that never stays clean for more than about 30 seconds, we brought in the box, which takes both of us to carry. We bought a nice pre-lit artificial tree in Phoenix, where real trees were not only incredibly expensive but also extreme fire dangers. Living in Montana, it's tempting to trade it for a real tree, but this year we decided to save the money nad use what we've got. We got the base out, no problem, and the bottom section, inserted in the base and nicely fluffed. The lights plugged in and turned on, all twinkly. The second section of the tree was a little trickier, but we got it. After that, not so much. There's just no way to get a nine foot tree to stand up in a room with eight foot ceilings, no matter how much you try to bend that top section. Of course in our haste to get the whole thing put together we missed at least one of the electrical connections, too, so even the sections we did get put together won't all light up. We decided to take it all apart and start over. Only the first two sections are now stuck together. Even lifting the two sections out of the base and playing tug of war with them wouldn't unstick them. The base and bottom two sections are now out in the garage, hoping the cold temperature out there will miraculously make it easier to get it fixed in the morning. And yes, assuming we can get the lights all figured out, we're still going with the nine footer, just not the top foot or so. We're going to need a much bigger star...

Bottled Water Has Got to Go!

My friend Carrie posted this graphic from Fast Company on her facebook page. I knew bottled water was bad, but this points out just HOW bad it is. Not only is it super expensive, in some cases it's worse for you than tap water. Three cheers for my stainless steel re-usable water bottle (and tap water in Bozeman that actually tastes good)!

Things I Didn't Know About Hannukah

Hannukah begins today - and no, it's not a "Jewish Christmas," though it surprises me how many uninformed Americans think it might be. A few years ago I bought a couple of children's books about Hannukah to have on hand to help tell the story. It's too bad so many folks have Bibles without the Apocrypha, since the Hannukah story is alluded to in the "in-between" books of 1 and 2 Maccabees. Maybe the best way to learn the story and how it's understood today is to expand our circles of friends to include more folks of different faiths.

One of the experiences I am most grateful for during my seminary days is CPE - Clinical Pastoral Education. CPE tends to get a pretty bad rap from pastor-types, and in some cases, rightly so. It's no good to be taken apart and then not put back together again. What made my CPE experience so good, besides a good supervisor, was the friendship forged with the only other woman in my group, a rabbinical student named Sarah. Early on in our summer of hospital-chaplaincy-fun, Sarah and I decided that there would be no "dumb questions" between us - and I got to learn a lot about her tradition, the different branches of the Jewish family tree in America, and to see my own tradition through different eyes. (All of the rest of our group were Christians, and we had to promise not to baptize Sarah if she ever fell asleep in the break room...).

So, here's a link to an OpEd piece from today's New York Times, which helped me put Hannukah in some historical perspective. I'd encourage you to read the comments, too, as they were interesting, also.

Op-Ed Columnist The Hanukkah Story By DAVID BROOKS Published: December 11, 2009 Hanukkah is the most adult of holidays. Its lesson is that even the struggles that saved a people are dappled with tragic irony, complexity and unattractive choices.

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.

Only One Thing

I've got only one thing to say tonight: Amen, come Lord Jesus.

Old Fashioned Warmth

It's cold in Bozeman. Really cold. I'm not sure our high made it above zero today. I know when I finally rolled out of bed this morning the news-folk said the windchill was lower than 40 degrees below zero. It's definitely cold enough to get one's attention. And it can get cold enough in our house to get my attention, too.

We bought our house in late winter earlier this year, and moved in March. For reasons that still escape me, we have two furnaces - one for upstairs and one for downstairs. While the control that offers is nice - we can heat just the space we're in a little more simply, especially with the gas fireplace in our family room/kitchen great room - it means that the bedrooms, all upstairs, stay a little chilly. We've got flannel sheets, a quilt and a big fluffy down comforter on the bed. But when the temp is barely 60 degrees in the room (58 if the man of the house gets sneaky), it's still a little chilly at first.

Enter one of the all time greatest inventions of all time: the hot water bottle (why do they still call them bottles? they're not, really). I had never seen one used for warmth in bed until I lived in Northern Ireland for a year. And then I wasn't just introduced to the concept with the standard red bottle (like the one in my lap right now), but red rubber bottles inside stuffed animal covers! Talk about snuggly! I've still got mine (Shaun the sheep from Wallace and Grommit), though it's a little bulky for keeping my feet warm under all the covers... Fill it up with water heated in the electric kettle (the small kitchen appliance I have refused to live without since my Irish sojourn) and winter nights aren't so bad.

I wonder how much energy Montanans would save if we all kept our tootsies toasty with a few cups of hot water?

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...

True Confessions: Sarah Palin makes me crazy

We're having a fairly lazy Sunday afternoon and evening at our house. After worship, Sunday School (I co-teach the high school class) and worship again, Grant and I took a handful of college students out to lunch. There were a bunch more students in worship, I'd expected more to stick around for free pizza at Old Chicago, since we were buying. But whatever. This afternoon I napped for close to two hours - I hadn't realized how tired I was, but a belly of greasy goodness probably helped. Now we are watching the Vikings play the Arizona Cardinals, and I'm catching up on the stack of newspapers that we've accumulated over the last week +. Grant is a die-hard newspaper reader. He reads two every day: the Bozeman Daily Chronicle and the Wall Street Journal. When we were in Redmond, WA for Thanksgiving, he bought a New York Times every couple of days. Including last Sunday, November 29th. I'm working my way through the New York Times Magazine from that paper, and this article about Sarah Palin, and why so few women like her, caught my attention: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/29/magazine/29FOB-wwln-t.html The Way We Live Now Why Women Can’t Let Sarah Palin Go By LISA BELKIN Published: November 29, 2009 If life is like high school, then today’s educated, ambitious women are the student-council presidents and Sarah Palin is the head cheerleader. Please let me know what you think...

Choreography of Sheep

I laughed right out loud. Thanks for sending it, Amy!

The Swell Season

Grant and I saw the movie Once in Minneapolis almost two years ago, and we both loved it. The music (Oscar winning) was great, of course, but I loved more that it was set on the street in Dublin. It's funny how different sounds - and more so smells - take me back to the year I lived in Northern Ireland. This past summer I was walking on Main Street in downtown Bozeman, and it started to rain. As I rounded a corner and passed a local burger joint I could have sworn I was in Strabane, I could even picture the chippy in my head. Crazy. Anyway - here's a new video by The Swell Season. I'm thankful to have come across it on Chris Scharen's blog. (And I'm hoping Santa will bring me The Swell Season's newest cd). Hope you like the video!

Early Morning Privileges

My alarm went off at 5:30am this morning. While I realize this is a perfectly normal time for a lot people I know, including my husband, it is pretty darn early for me. My excuse is that I used up my lifetime supply of early mornings during the two and a half years I worked for Starbucks (when the store opened at 5:30am and we had to be there at 5am, which meant I got up at 4am to shower and get there on time...). As painful, and cold, as it was this morning, I was glad to get up. An eight year old member of the congregation I serve was scheduled for surgery, and he and his parents were to be at the hospital at 6:15am. I got there about 6:20. The coffee cart on the first floor had yet to open for the day - you know you're early when you beat the coffee lady. There were three or four nurses on the surgery floor, walking with purpose from their station into rooms with curtains pulled for patient privacy. They asked questions, took blood pressures, checked temperatures, and made sure all the information was correct - so much activity happening in those lighted spaces, when the world around was still sleeping and covered in darkness. I witnessed the beginning of the pre-surgery routine: child patient in gown and reclining in the bed even though he was ready to bounce off the walls, nurse in and out of the room, parents smiling for their son and trying not to let their concern and worry show enough to concern and worry him. My young friend introduced his parents to the nurse, and introduced me as "our pastor." I have never been happier to bear that title. I hope he knew that I was there for him, and for his parents. We joked, talked a little about the procedure, and then we prayed one of the most heartfelt kinds of prayer - we knew we weren't in control, we asked for God's presence, we prayed for the blessing of others and their skills, we asked for the gift of trust and hope, we prayed for healing and health. His parents thanked me over and over for getting up so early, for being there. I said "you're welcome" as a reflex. And added, "It's what we do. It's who we are. And it is my privilege to be here." I never cease to be amazed at the access people grant us pastor-types into their lives, to be witnesses, to be signs of God's presence among us, to represent the family of faith, to help find the words to give meaning to the best and worst times. What a privilege. *the surgery went well and my friend is on the mend. Wahoo!

Wait. Watch. Prepare. Part I

We had our first Wednesday evening Advent service tonight, using Holden Evening Prayer, a setting by Marty Haugen. The music was wonderful, but being in charge meant I didn't quite get to experience the service the way I hope everyone else did - especially since this setting of Evening Prayer is so brief... I need MORE time to sit, to be still, to watch the flame glowing on the first candle on the Advent wreath flicker as we breathe. Our theme tonight was "Wait." I suck at waiting, though sometimes I think I've had so much practice I should be a pro. We had a mini-readers-theater of sorts, exploring the different kinds of waiting different people do - waiting for a baby to be born, waiting for the world to change, waiting to die, waiting to be noticed, waiting to be wanted, waiting for... Tonight I am waiting for my headache to go away. I'm waiting for our household to get out of debt. I'm waiting to have a child, and waiting to be in better shape, waiting for people to cooperate, waiting for people to take some healthy initiative, waiting for adequate time to get my house organized, waiting for inspiration, waiting for God to speak to me just a little more clearly. What are you waiting for?

It's Only A Month, Right?

I have been sucked in. While there were multiple days during November that I spent no time at the keyboard working on my NaNoWriMo masterpiece, I did enjoy the discipline of thinking about my story and characters. A friend from a previous lifetime (that would be high school) participated in NaBloPoMo last month (National Blog Posting Month) and wrote a blog post every day at Rhubarb Sky. I have been inspired. I will make no guarantees as to the quality of posts for the next 30 days, but I'll do my best when it comes to quantity: 30 more, at least. It's true what Chris Baty, the founder of NaNoWriMo says: all we need is a deadline.

I Wrote a Novel, Now What?

I am very happy to say I did it - and with two hours to spare. After pounding out 9000+ words of mediocre fiction I have successfully completed my first NaNoWriMo and quit for the day today at 50,388 words, according to the official word counter. My book still lacks a title, and I'm guessing it's going to take another 20,000 words or so to finish telling the story. BUT - it feels good. And Grant says, "I'm looking forward to having my wife back." Fair enough.

We are newly back in Bozeman after a week in Western Washington with my family. Advent is upon us and there is MUCH to do, like there always is. The discipline of writing has been good for me, though, and a facebook friend from another life participated in National Blog Writing Month during November - a post a day for a month - and it sounds like it might be fun. But maybe I'll wait til January for that...

Now, some sleep...

Procrastination Station

One of the best parts of signing up for National Novel Writing Month, besides actually writing a novel (I hit the 19,000 word mark last night, and hope to be at 25,000 words before I go to bed on Sunday night), is the NaNoWriMo website. It rocks. Just about all of it is accessible to everyone, though to post in the forums you need to register, which also implies you're writing a book. ANYWAY - one of my favorite sections, of course, is the "Procrastination Station." Every day or two, two new links to wonderful websites and opportunities to avoid writing are posted. Yesterday I discovered wordle, and if you haven't seen it yet, go check it out. You can paste in a bunch of text (like your whole novel so far, or a sermon, or anything) and it generates a word cloud based upon it. The most frequently used words are the biggest, on down to pretty small type for the least frequently used words. You can change the font, the color, the orientation of the words. Super fun! Plus, you can use what you create any way you want - I'm thinking there are some uber-groovy t-shirts in our youth group's future!

Here's an example: this is the wordle of the top 150 words from my Consecration Sunday sermon from last year (Grant's preaching at Commitment Sunday this year. Pray for him - it's this week!)

Vote Yes on Referendum 71, Or whichever legislation to protect GLBT rights is up for vote near your house

My friends Heidi and Jen are in this ad filmed by the ALCU in Seattle. (Heidi's one of my best friends from college - we were roommates our junior and senior years). Heidi and Jen are domestic partners, and have had "Domestic Partnership Rights" in Washington State- meaning that should something happen to one of them, the other would have access to her partner's pension. All that could change if voters refect Referendum 71. So if you're in Washington, vote YES! And if you live somewhere else, please vote yes to maintain or grant domestic partnership rights in your area (or vote no, if the legislation is worded the other way around). Thanks!

Unseen Endings Indeed

We have had all of four trick-or-treaters tonight, and try as I might to get them to show me a trick, they all looked at me like I was a crazy lady when they said, "Trick-or-treat," and I said, "Hmmm, how about a trick!?" Maybe next year...

Of course this means the three bags of candy I bought are likely to be consumed by yours truly. At least I planned ahead and only bought candy I like: 2 bags of Snickers and 1 Almond Joy. Now if I can just hide them from the man of the house.

I know it's been a long time since I've written anything. I'm proud to report that I'm back on my meds (no, I'm not kidding, it's round 3 of antidepressants in the last 10 years) and "doing the work" a la "What About Bob?"

I'm also proud to report (and slightly shocked at my decision to do this) that I've signed up for National Novel Writing Month. 50,000 words of fiction in 30 days. I imagine that I'll be doing a lot more blog-writing in the next month as well, when I run a little short on plot! I'll keep you posted. At this point the ending really is unseen...

The Unhelpfulness of Words

My head has been full these last weeks. And my heart, too, despite the gnawing emptiness that follow me wherever I go. Sometimes that raw emptiness gets just enough ahead of me to surprise me with a surfacing so quick and so violent that there's no stopping the tears. I've been told I look a little stronger each day. I'm not sure what that means, exactly. Maybe it doesn't matter if I do. One thing I do know is that I am very sensitive to words these days. Even before we started telling family and friends and then parishioners what happened I was dreading the words people would use to try to console me. There is no consolation. We told my sister and brother-in-law back in June that I was pregnant. I wanted someone to confide in, and given that she's two states away it seemed safe enough. We told them we weren't going to let the rest of our families in on the news until August, after my first trimester, "just in case." And my sister, even then, said, "Even if you miscarry, at least you'll know you can get pregnant." She said it again when we told them I lost the baby. "At least you know you can get pregnant." True - but "at least" doesn't help much, thanks. I was pregnant this time and look what happened. Besides, getting pregnant is not the point, the point is to have a baby. And I didn't. I don't need people to try to dismiss the grief I'm feeling, or to make it better, because that's not possible. Just acknowledge it. Say you're sorry. Say you don't know what to say and then LISTEN for God's sake. Of course unhelpful words come from all directions lately. It's Vacation Bible School week here at Christ the King in Bozeman. Last week a mom came into the office with her three year old daughter, and another not quite a year old, to fill out a registration form. She asked me, "Do you have kids?" And I answered quickly, "No." She didn't let it stop there, "Oh, so you can go out to dinner or go see a movie whenever you want and..." I could have throttled her. Or made her feel like shit, which was tempting. I refrained from asking her if she'd like to trade her two beautiful girls for the freedom to eat out whenever she wants to. To tell her just how much I'd give up not to be living in the realm of statistics where "these things just happen." I know she had no idea, but I think it would do everyone some good not to assume that the facts and circumstances of others' lives are necessarily the facts and circumstances of their choosing. Fortunately, not all words have proven unhlepful. I've found, and been sent, lots of great writing by other women, and a few men, who have experienced something similar. One blog in particular has been helpful to me, even though the author went through something I can only imagine: the stillbirth of her first child. The Happy Sad Mama writes about the hurtful encounter with someone she thought would bring her comfort:

The tears started before she spoke, tears of appreciation that soon turned bitter at her words to me, uttered with a soft hand stroking my hair, "It will be allright. Everything is going to be allright."

All right? EVERYTHING?

"It is not all right. My baby girl is gone, how can that ever be all right?"

I do not remember her response, if there even was one. And I write here not in dismay at this person, because now I can see with complete clarity that she was doing everything she could to try to help me, but she just didn't know what to say. The emotion I seek to extract here is not anger towards a person, but this pervasive feeling that we, the bereaved, feel when someone who we trusted and care about comes out and says the wrong thing. It has happened to us all. Everyone has someone who has said something that may not have been outright hurtful, but has made our heart sink into our stomach, because here was someone we hoped would say our baby's name, and hold our hand while we cried, and all they can stomach is to try to fix it with one simple sentence.

Nobody knows what to do, nobody. Nobody knows what to say. We are all speechless in the face of loss, of grief, and especially when birth and death, life's two greatest mysteries, intertwine. We the bereaved have all due respect for this not-knowing what to do. But say it, say it. Know not what to do, be speechless with your thoughts, and say so. Let us grieve, let us grieve. It is the only way out, it is the only way up. We must grieve in order to grow, and we must grow in order to live.

Amen, sister.

And then I wasn't

I was pregnant. And then I wasn't. Two weeks ago today my husband and I headed to my first pre-natal appointment, half-way through the ninth week of our first pregnancy adventure. Due to schedule constraints this first appointment came a couple of weeks sooner in my pregnancy than my doctor normally sees pregnant patients, which was just fine with us. We had looked forward to this appointment for weeks already, feeling that seeing my doctor would somehow make it more "official," paving the way for us to share the good news with family in August, then with friends and the congregation. Everything seemed fine: plenty of first trimester symptons of the healthy and the unpleasant varieties, and plenty of excitement and hopes and dreams of (finally!) being pregnant and anticipating parenthood. We couldn't hear baby's heart beat on the Doppler, though Dr W wasn't worried about it - "it's still so early," she reminded us. She could just see baby on their in-office ultrasound, and sent us home with smiles, joy, and another appointment scheduled 4 weeks out. Two days later, I slept in on a lazy Saturday morning, but quickly discovered that things were not okay: blood where there should be no blood. I headed downstairs and told my unsuspecting husband, through a faucet of tears, that we needed to call the doctor. The office staff told us to go to the Emergency Room and that they'd fax over any needed records. The short drive to the hospital, only a few miles away, felt like a hundred, as we held hands and cried and made nervous jokes, not wanting to jump to conclusions. When we arrived, I headed inside while he parked the car, and the waiting began. After the physical exam (thank God for good ER docs), we were cautiously optimistic. "Maybe I'm just a paranoid first time pregnant lady," I said. "Neurotic like me. Let's hope so," the doctor replied with a smile. After another hour-plus which felt like ten, they wheeled me down for an ultrasound. The ultrasound tech was very nice, but the bearer of bad news, "I'm sorry, but I don't see a heart beat. I'm so sorry. And the baby is smaller than it should be for almost nine weeks. It looks like growth stopped at about six weeks," she told us. Our hands gripped each other's even tighter, I thought I would be sick, and my heart broke inside my chest. I have no idea how long it will take to mend. Last week was a living nightmare. After two doctors visits on Monday - one with my regular doctor and one with an OB/GYN I'd never previously met, we decided on the pharmaceutical option to help my body do what needed to be done. Who knew it could take so long. It wasn't pretty or fun, but after a week+, most of the physical ordeal is over, and my body no longer thinks it's pregnant. The emotional ordeal continues. Unfortunately, too many people who don't know what to say (because there is nothing to say, except "I'm sorry," or as my best friend from sem put it "Dammit!") end up saying things that not only don't help, but hurt. It is a real struggle to remember that people are trying to be helpful when all I want to do is scream and say "my baby died, and it's not okay!" I have found some soul sisters online, and in the book the OB gave me - people who have put into words the raw emotion so close to the surface in me. Considering the statistics on miscarriage/pregnancy loss, it's amazing how little it's actually talked about. At the same time, I'm not that surprised - our "fix-it and forget-it" culture doesn't do grief very well, and giving people the time and space they need to mourn is especially difficult when we have such a low tolerance for pain, maybe even more so when it is someone else's pain and we are helpless to change it. I am learning again it is okay not to be okay.

Women in Media

Thanks to the Utne Reader for calling attention to this video. This video comes from a 2006 Equality Now event. Meryl Streep introduces Joss Whedon (you know, the guy behind Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Firefly and Serenity). Whedon has spent a decade explaining why he writes strong female characters, and gives his reasons here (beginning at about the 2 minute mark). This is good.

In Need of God

This is a great poem. For those of you who are interested, check out the whole range of things on the young clergy women project site. Thanks to tensegrities for pointing me back to a great site.

My favorite human petri dish and the disappearance of my voice

This is a picture of my nephew, Erik. He and his parents (my sister and her husband) visited us over Memorial Day weekend and we had a great time. It was a first trip to Montana ("Mon-TAN-AAAaaaaa!!" with arms in the air) for Erik. A first trip to Yellowstone National Park for his dad, as well. I've heard it said that everyone loves the sound of his/her own name. That's exponentially true for me when it's Erik saying "Auntie Lindean." I've also heard it said that kids who spend time in day care get just about every cold virus known to humanity out of the way before they hit preschool. Erik could be a good case in point. I have moved multiple times in the last few years, and usually manage to catch the germs of the neighborhood fairly quickly. Perhaps my previous tenure in Bozeman rendered me slightly more immune this time around, because I'd been remarkably healthy for me, even during the winter, when the queen-of-upper-respiratory-infections usually asserts her reign. Enter nephew from Washington, age nearly-two-years, the cutest petri dish out there. And... I am finally on the mend, after being pretty out of it for a week and a half. I lost my voice completely for 3+ days (it's amazing how much I talk! and how hard it is NOT to talk!). My husband acutally scheduled a doctor's appointment for me and then drove me to it. I missed our Synod Assembly. I'm still a walking pharmacy, with a love/hate relationship with amoxicillin. But those slurpy sloppy nephew kisses are worth it. Every time.

Julian of Norwich

Today is the feast day of Julian of Norwich. I'm a fan of hers. This is one of my favorite "cover prayers":

In you, Father all-mighty, we have our preservation and our bliss.

In you, Christ, we have our restoring and our saving.

You are our mother, brother, and savior.

In you, our Lord the Holy Spirit, is marvelous and plenteous grace.

You are our clothing; for love you wrap us and embrace us.

You are our maker, our lover, our keeper.

Teach us to believe that by your grace all shall be well,

and all shall be well,

and all manner of things shall be well.

Amen

Icon written by Lu Bro

April Showers

We have had some fantastically varied weather here in Bozeman this week. We hit 80 degrees on Tuesday. Wednesday was just as lovely - so lovely in fact that we worshiped outside on the patio at church on Wednesday evening. It cooled down Wednesday night, and yesterday morning the air was filled with the wonderful smell of spring rain. It almost felt like I was back in Seattle, or Belfast.

And then yesterday afternoon snowflakes as big as your head started falling. We woke up to this out the garage door this morning:

And to this out the back door onto our deck:

Of course, inside's not much better: Friends stored a bunch of boxes for us at their house, from the time we moved up here last August until this past Monday night. I spent part of Tuesday unpacking china and crystal, and wedding presents we had yet to use (it felt a little like Christmas morning). Unpacking was far more exciting that keeping the piles of packing paper tidy as I went. Besides, the cat has been having a BALL. No surprise...

I have my weekend work cut out for me!

Happy Earth Day!

"Flowers changed the face of the planet. Without them, the world we know. . . would never have existed. Francis Thompson, the English poet, once wrote that one could not pluck a flower without troubling a star. Intuitively he had sensed like a naturalist the enormous interlinked complexity of life. . . . The weight of a petal has changed the face of the world and made it ours." Loren Eiseley (1907-1977) US Anthropologist

Thanks much to Ministry of the Arts for sending me the above artwork ("How Flowers Changed the World" by Mary Southard, CSJ) and quote in an Earth Day greeting. I purchase a calendar from Ministry of the Arts every year - great original art, inspiring quotes and thoughts, and daily actions to take. Check them out!

Resurrection Day!

Happy Resurrection Day! I hope you are filled with the joy and hope of the day. Jesus is alive and it makes all the difference! We've had a full morning here in Bozeman, though I must say it felt pretty good NOT to have to get up for a sunrise service this morning. Frankly, I didn't miss it! And I think I'd encourage the introduction of the Vigil before we aim to start that early morning tradition. I'll let you know if anything changes next year. So, we had two full services, brass, choir, a very tasty brunch, an egg hunt, and the sun is shining in the blue sky scattered with those happy white fluffy clouds. The grass is even trying to turn green. (Go, chlorophyl, go!) I am looking forward to my Easter nap after I finish putting Grant's Easter basket together, and then to dinner with 3 young couples from the congregation. As tired as I am, my head is still pretty full, and running at 100 miles an hour. Every year I think of this poem by Steve Turner, a British poet I became a fan of during my year in Northern Ireland in the mid 90s. As always, let me know what you think. Christmas Is Really For The Children Christmas is really for the children. Especially for children who like animals, stables, stars and babies wrapped in swaddling clothes. Then there are wise men, kings in fine robes, humble shepherds and a hint of rich perfume. Easter is not really for the children unless accompanied by a cream filled egg. It has whips, blood, nails, a spear and allegations of body snatching. It involves politics, God and the sinds of the world. It is not good for people of a nervous disposition. They would do better to think on rabbits, chickens and the first snowdrop of spring. Or they'd do better to wait for a rerun of Christmas without asking too many questions about what Jesus did when he grew up or whether there's any connection.

Find me on Rooted

Grant and I have been trying to write a post a day for the bulk of Holy Week. You can catch up with me on our congregational blog: Rooted.

Things to Ponder

My how time flies! I can hardly believe this Sunday is the 5th Sunday in Lent already. We've had fun preaching on the lessons from the Hebrew Scriptures each Sunday morning. I have a feeling we'll be hitting the Gospel of John pretty hard during the great 50 days of Easter. Wahoo! With moving from our rented townhouse to the new house we just bought, there hasn't been a whole lot of time for reading at our house, though beginning to unpack box after box of books feels like a reunion with old friends. More about that later. For now, check out these quotes from the Emergence conference that Mary Hess posted. My current favorite is from Shane Claiborne: You can have all the right answers and still be mean. And if you’re mean, no one will listen to you. So true, so true.

U2's Top Ten

I've been going to bed early lately. Needing to be at the gym by 5:35am so I can be warmed up enough to start lifting weights at 5:45am has a lot to do with that. Last night I was up a little later than normal - U2 is on Letterman all week and there's no way Grant was going to miss it again. So I've already lapsed on my Lenten discipline of not watching TV at home, because we watched it. And we laughed really hard. Here's their Top Ten:

Getting ready for Lent

It's Shrove Tuesday. From my office I can hear the mardi gras music playing in the social hall and the hilarious bits of giggling and laughter, as adults who haven't hula-hooped in years get a few practice rounds in before tonight's contest. There will be pancakes and syrup, sausages and OJ, the hula-hoops, limbo, cake walk, jokes and silly masks. And a pie-in-the-face fundraiser for the youth traveling to the National Youth Gathering this summer. (I am VERY glad the pies will be in the kids' faces, not mine - I'm thinking my contacts would react badly to an influx of Reddi-Whip).

I'm looking forward to the fun, but also keenly aware that the party is not the reason for the party. At least not this one.

This party is about being ready for tomorrow. This party is preparation for the fast of Lent. This party has a hidden agenda and ulterior motive. I hope we can remember. I hope people will return tomorrow night, for the ashes and the reminder of their ultimate limits: Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return. I hope we can live into Lent without getting morbid.

A post on Luther Seminary's Working Preacher website has helped my thinking in getting ready for the season. Hope you like it, too.

The Girl Effect

International Women's Day isn't until the 8th of March - but this video got my attention and is worth sharing, and I don't want to forget about it!! Pass it on!

Refrigerated Science Experiments

We've become increasingly aware of food at our house. Both of us enjoy cooking, and eating (obviously). I wouldn't say we're obsessed, exactly, just very healthily aware of what we purchase, consume, and throw away. Our current level of "purchase awareness" developed with the cutting in half of our income after we moved last summer. I now have a "price book" and keep track of how cheaply we can acquire our regular staples and favorites, so we can stock up when a sale is good, and avoid buying full-priced items as much as possible. Our consumption awareness continues to evolve, as we become more in tune with which foods fuel our bodies well and lead to health, and which are bad news for us fat people. Believe it or not (and those of you who have known me for a long time will think NOT) I don't buy Diet Coke anymore. I'll drink it occasionally, when at a restaurant or someone else's home, but it doesn't come in our house. I'm making do with a single cup of black tea or coffee every morning and a whole lot more water during the day. Awareness of our food waste is the least developed at our house. I always feel a little guilty when I realize there's something growing in the back of the refrigerator. It's usually the furry remains of what were really yummy dinner leftovers at one point, or the slimy last dregs of an ancient container of sour cream, or a mushy cucumber, forlorn and forgotten at the bottom of the veggie drawer. Throwing food away is not good for the budget. Or the environment. And we do a whole lot of it in this country. We're trying to do less of it at our house, through meal planning and cooking more realistic amounts of food for a kitchen table for two. I've taken to reading The Non-Consumer Advocate blog. The author has a link to another blog, called Wasted Food. I just started reading it. I may be hooked. Let me know what you think!

On not losing heart...

I can see from the "Live Traffic Feed" below that my friend Heather in Peoria doesn't lose heart too easily. The whole box, as of this writing, is full with her checking to see if I've come up with anything interesting to say. Or anything to say at all, for that matter. Heather: you are an inspiration! My lack of postings for the last two months has little to do with my having nothing to say, and much to do with a completely unreliable internet connection at home. Hopefully that will be changing soon, as we're under contract on a house, plan to close next week, and will be all moved in (and all moved out of our current abode) by the end of March. Wahoo!! I can't wait to actually have people over! In the meantime, life keeps trucking right along, busy as ever. Funny how even only working "half-time" we manage to stay as busy as we do. Husband/colleague and I have just embarked on a new schedule, one that will hopefully prevent us from overworking every single week: now we're each going to be in the office for three days a week, plus Sundays. Today's my day to be in the office solo. We'll both be here tomorrow and Thursday. Then I get this Friday off and the man will be in the office on his own. I think I could get to like this schedule. I also, am working on not losing heart. I joined the big local gym 13 days ago, after a physical and corresponding lab reports that didn't really hold any surprises. Needless to say, I'm sore in places I forgot I had! I signed up for "8 weeks to fitness," joining in the fun and pain half-way through the 8 weeks of group training (at 6am twice a week, I really am crazy!) So while my new workout buddies are lifting way more weight than I am, I just keep reminding myself that I'm healthier today than I was yesterday, and tomorrow will be even better. And walking, climbing stairs, and lifting your arms above your head are really overrated. :)