Movin', movin', movin'. Keep those boxes movin'. Rawhide!
Okay, that was lame, but I'm feeling lame. George and I tried to move the ping pong table from the garage to the basement. It did not go well, although feeling is returning to my left hand slowly. Who knew ping pong tables were so heavy? Not me. Anyway, we didn't even get half the table top through the front door before I cried uncle and we retreated to the garage. We will have to wait until the mud freezes, and we can go around back through the walk-out (rather than negotiate the stairwell inside), and we can get someone else to help George because I'm no help at all.
I hate to fail.
There was also an unfortunate incident in which a plastic laundry basket melted on the stove when a burner accidentally got turned on. A spatula gave its life to save the stovetop, and a little Barkeeper's Friend took care of the rest.
Otherwise, things are going well. Slowly, but well.
I expect postings to be very light for the next week. In the meantime, please contemplate this truth I read on Pinterest...
"You never know what you have...until you clean your room."
I would amend it to read, "...until you move." But no matter.
Happy New Year to you!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
New House Haiku with Egregious Exclamation Points
Drove to house Tuesday.
Saw orange, dropped jaw, exclaimed, "Noooooo!!!!
This will not work. Fix it. Pleeeeease!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
As George said when I posted this picture on Facebook, it's worse in real life. Bright pumpkin orange stucco just finished Monday, and everyone's appalled...even the woman who picked the color...a woman who did a fine, understated, and conservative job with every other color choice for this house and is as shocked as the rest of us.
Can you imagine how the orange will pop when the sky is bright blue instead of snowy gray?
*shudder*
A friend asked if we were Tennessee fans. No. No, we're not. My blood runs Duke blue, George's runs Carolina blue, and we wouldn't put stucco in those colors on the exterior of this house, either. The house needs some color, but I was thinking about painting the front door, eventually. Orange, however, wasn't a color I was considering.
The builder will fix this, which is why I snort laughter every time I see this picture. Laughter with a slightly hysterical edge, to be sure. But laughter, nevertheless.
We're still waiting to hear if we close today. There's been a holiday-related hold-up with the title paperwork, but our mortgage agent thinks it will get cleared up soon. Will keep you posted.
Saw orange, dropped jaw, exclaimed, "Noooooo!!!!
This will not work. Fix it. Pleeeeease!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
As George said when I posted this picture on Facebook, it's worse in real life. Bright pumpkin orange stucco just finished Monday, and everyone's appalled...even the woman who picked the color...a woman who did a fine, understated, and conservative job with every other color choice for this house and is as shocked as the rest of us.
Can you imagine how the orange will pop when the sky is bright blue instead of snowy gray?
*shudder*
A friend asked if we were Tennessee fans. No. No, we're not. My blood runs Duke blue, George's runs Carolina blue, and we wouldn't put stucco in those colors on the exterior of this house, either. The house needs some color, but I was thinking about painting the front door, eventually. Orange, however, wasn't a color I was considering.
The builder will fix this, which is why I snort laughter every time I see this picture. Laughter with a slightly hysterical edge, to be sure. But laughter, nevertheless.
We're still waiting to hear if we close today. There's been a holiday-related hold-up with the title paperwork, but our mortgage agent thinks it will get cleared up soon. Will keep you posted.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Gratitude Journal #118
Wow. I'm not even sure where to start today. Gratitude overflows in this, the last Gratitude Journal entry of 2011.
Today, I am grateful for the gift of Christmas. So grateful.
Today, I am grateful for family and friends, for the community in which I live, and for my country.
Today, I am grateful for my children and my husband.
Today, I am grateful for rest before chaos...the move begins tomorrow (Tuesday).
Today, I am grateful to look forward to another year, with all its promise and hope and uncertainty and adventure.
Today, I am grateful for you, the readers of my blog, for your support and encouragement, for your comments and emails. Thank you.
What are you grateful for today?
Today, I am grateful for the gift of Christmas. So grateful.
Today, I am grateful for family and friends, for the community in which I live, and for my country.
Today, I am grateful for my children and my husband.
Today, I am grateful for rest before chaos...the move begins tomorrow (Tuesday).
Today, I am grateful to look forward to another year, with all its promise and hope and uncertainty and adventure.
Today, I am grateful for you, the readers of my blog, for your support and encouragement, for your comments and emails. Thank you.
What are you grateful for today?
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Christmas Haiku
Six thirty wake-up
Blessed by smell of strong coffee.
Hot, black Christmas cheer.
Squeals of sheer delight!
Santa came! Tidy tree scene
Devolves to chaos.
Santa gives dog a bone.
Dog growls at boy, gets lesson
In sharing her toys.
Half an hour it takes
To open presents. Best half
Hour of whole kid year.
Nick expected worst
Christmas ever. Got Legos.
Best Christmas ever.
Nick and George build the
Alien Conquest HQ.
So. Many. Pieces.
Jack expected best
Christmas ever. Got Kodak.
Best Christmas ever.
Snap-happy Jack takes
Pictures of hands, feet, phone, toys
Pillow, toilet, self.
Mom and Dad get Nook
Tablets. The end times approach.
Joy, joy, joy, joy, joy!
Charge Nook before use.
Three hours before playing.
Mimosas pass time.
Dog needs to be walked.
No one whines; Christmas spirit
Shines. A miracle.
Dog deposits mulch
On carpet. Nom, nom, nom, nom!
Mom vacuums. She’s Scrooge.
Rib roast makes house smell
Like expensive restaurant.
Thank you, God, for cows.
Thank you, God, for hope
And joy and celebration
And peace and kindness.
Even greater thanks
For giving your Son to teach
Us how love should be.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Literary Words, Words, Words about Peace and Love, and a Blessing
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love came down at Christmas,
Love all lovely, Love Divine;
Love was born at Christmas;
Star and angels gave the sign.
Christina Rossetti
God Bless Us, Every One!
Charles Dickens
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Love came down at Christmas,
Love all lovely, Love Divine;
Love was born at Christmas;
Star and angels gave the sign.
Christina Rossetti
God Bless Us, Every One!
Charles Dickens
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Things on Thursday: The Nativity
Sadly, in the year Christ was born, cameras and camcorders hadn't been invented, so we can only imagine what the Nativity was like. Going to modern-day Bethlehem doesn't help us get back to the inn and stable, either.
Consequently, we all have different images in our head of the event, based on what we learn in Sunday school, popular culture, and books. If you Google nativity images, an incredible variety of interpretations in a wide range of media pops up.
Stained glass provides a particularly appropriate medium for portraying the birth of Light in the world.
Historical accuracy rarely figures in images of the Nativity. We adapt the story to our times, our needs, our imaginations, our culture, as in this beautiful African Nativity.
Cute, cartoony representations speak to the child in us.
Renaissance portrayals of the Nativity often include anachronistic figures (wealthy patrons who commissioned the art piece often appear as wise men, the artists themselves might make a cameo as a shepherd, clothing is more suited to 16th-century royal courts than first-century Bethlehem, etc.) and symbolic or inaccurate images (a manger that looks like an empty tomb, as above).
Figurines are mass-produced or hand-crafted so families can have their own Nativity scenes over fireplaces, under trees, on tables in their homes.
Films depict the Nativity and play out the story for us in a medium we definitely understand. This image, from The Nativity Story, shows how human the event was.
Modern, clean depictions strip the event down to its barest elements. (This photo made 9-year-old Jack exclaim with joy, "That's baby Jesus!")
What is your favorite version of the Nativity scene? What do you value most in a Nativity depiction?
Consequently, we all have different images in our head of the event, based on what we learn in Sunday school, popular culture, and books. If you Google nativity images, an incredible variety of interpretations in a wide range of media pops up.
Stained glass provides a particularly appropriate medium for portraying the birth of Light in the world.
Historical accuracy rarely figures in images of the Nativity. We adapt the story to our times, our needs, our imaginations, our culture, as in this beautiful African Nativity.
Cute, cartoony representations speak to the child in us.
Renaissance portrayals of the Nativity often include anachronistic figures (wealthy patrons who commissioned the art piece often appear as wise men, the artists themselves might make a cameo as a shepherd, clothing is more suited to 16th-century royal courts than first-century Bethlehem, etc.) and symbolic or inaccurate images (a manger that looks like an empty tomb, as above).
Figurines are mass-produced or hand-crafted so families can have their own Nativity scenes over fireplaces, under trees, on tables in their homes.
Films depict the Nativity and play out the story for us in a medium we definitely understand. This image, from The Nativity Story, shows how human the event was.
Modern, clean depictions strip the event down to its barest elements. (This photo made 9-year-old Jack exclaim with joy, "That's baby Jesus!")
What is your favorite version of the Nativity scene? What do you value most in a Nativity depiction?
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The Opposite of Stupid Human Tricks
Last week, I added a new board to my Pinterest account and titled it Stupid Human Tricks. This board stands out from my other boards, which have titles like Happy Photos, Cute Beyond Belief, Favorite Places and Spaces, Pure Inspiration, and Yes, Of Course. My first pin to Stupid Human Tricks was an x-ray of a woman's foot in a stiletto shoe. My apologies to those of you who like stilettos, but why would you torture your bones and ligaments to be four inches taller?
I don't get it. Never have, never will.
But this morning, I found an article on Happy News that made me think, "Well, isn't this the OPPOSITE of a stupid human trick?!?!!"
And yes, I do think in egregious exclamation points. Especially at this time of year.
Police Issue Gift Cards
Here's another Not-Stupid Human Trick:
Diamond Ring Dropped in Salvation Army Kettle
And another:
Anonymous Gift Keeps Water on for 17 Households
I have no idea what very-important-and-monumentally-stupid stuff is going on in the world right now, having not read CNN.com or MSNBC.com or even RoadRunner's news page, or even listened much to NPR lately. But I sure can tell you a lot of the not-stupid stuff.
And it's making me love the world.
Except for the stilettos. Those are just cruel.
I don't get it. Never have, never will.
But this morning, I found an article on Happy News that made me think, "Well, isn't this the OPPOSITE of a stupid human trick?!?!!"
And yes, I do think in egregious exclamation points. Especially at this time of year.
Police Issue Gift Cards
Here's another Not-Stupid Human Trick:
Diamond Ring Dropped in Salvation Army Kettle
And another:
Anonymous Gift Keeps Water on for 17 Households
I have no idea what very-important-and-monumentally-stupid stuff is going on in the world right now, having not read CNN.com or MSNBC.com or even RoadRunner's news page, or even listened much to NPR lately. But I sure can tell you a lot of the not-stupid stuff.
And it's making me love the world.
Except for the stilettos. Those are just cruel.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Gratitude Journal #117
Today, I am grateful for the response to my last blog post. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Today, I am grateful for tripods and camera timers and a husband who's not afraid to use them.
Check out the construction rubble in front of us. The front door was covered in scaffolding as they added the stucco and arch over the front porch. Hard to believe we'll have a final walk-thru on Wednesday and close a week later, but oh how exciting!!!!
Today, I am grateful for parties where interesting people come together over delicious food and enjoy each other's conversation. When the party takes place in a castle (well, the modern domestic equivalent of one), it's even more fun.
Today, I am grateful for packages and the delivery people who bring them to your door, especially the one who brought our wine basket the other day and was so concerned that I was of age to sign for it. Aren't you the sweetest thing?!?!
Today, I am grateful for Jesus, my Lord, and the sermon Pastor Suzanne preached yesterday on Jesus as Lord. I kind of forget that in this celebration of His birth as a little baby, you know.
What are you grateful for today?
Today, I am grateful for tripods and camera timers and a husband who's not afraid to use them.
Check out the construction rubble in front of us. The front door was covered in scaffolding as they added the stucco and arch over the front porch. Hard to believe we'll have a final walk-thru on Wednesday and close a week later, but oh how exciting!!!!
Today, I am grateful for parties where interesting people come together over delicious food and enjoy each other's conversation. When the party takes place in a castle (well, the modern domestic equivalent of one), it's even more fun.
Today, I am grateful for packages and the delivery people who bring them to your door, especially the one who brought our wine basket the other day and was so concerned that I was of age to sign for it. Aren't you the sweetest thing?!?!
Today, I am grateful for Jesus, my Lord, and the sermon Pastor Suzanne preached yesterday on Jesus as Lord. I kind of forget that in this celebration of His birth as a little baby, you know.
What are you grateful for today?
Friday, December 16, 2011
Finding the Meaning of Life in Cell Biology and Literary Theory
What is the meaning of life?
That question scares me. It's big. It's beyond big. At this point in my life, I'm convinced we're not meant to answer it anyway. The irony is that I love answering questions about meaning. I'm an English major to my core. Life, however, isn't one of the Canterbury Tales or a Jane Austen novel or a poem by T.S. Eliot. It's not even a Shakespearean play, as painful as that is for me to admit. Reading the meaning in our lives isn't like reading a masterpiece of literature.
Or is it?
In To Kill a Mockingbird, Judge Taylor says, "People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for." What we believe or don't believe about the meaning of life becomes the perspective from which we look and listen for the meaning of life, our life's literary theory, if you will. And it's important to have a good theory, or life gets really wonky.
I have a friend whose teenage son is questioning the existence of God. This young man has been a beacon of faith until now, and his loss of faith strikes a chord with me. When I was about his age, I lost my faith, too. My life had become so painful, so confusing, so emotionally chaotic that I simply couldn't believe there was a benevolent God anywhere. If God was as good as I'd been taught in Sunday school, how could I hurt so very much? Why didn't He help me? Why was I still alive? Screw you, God, and that donkey you rode in on.
Clearly I had a radical change of perspective at some point, and I remember the moment vividly. I was an 18-year-old undergraduate sitting in Professor Mary Nijhout's cell biology class in the spring semester of 1985. Professor Nijhout was lecturing brilliantly on muscle contraction at the molecular level, drawing complex, multicolored diagrams on the chalk board in a lecture hall that seated several hundred students. As I contemplated the incredible elegance of actin and myocin filaments and the sheer number of chemical reactions taking place in my hand to copy Professor Nijhout's complex diagrams, I experienced a flash of awareness of the awesomeness of creation...and the unlikelihood of its having happened by accident. I said a brief prayer of apology to God for doubting and continued taking notes.
Rather a different experience from the apostle Paul's on the road to Damascus, but there it is.
My depression didn't lift immediately; chemical imbalances in the teenage brain don't resolve themselves overnight or in a flash of awareness in a Duke University lecture hall or on the psychologist's couch. I still didn't have an answer to the question of why I hurt so badly if God was an omniscient, omnipotent good guy. I still don't have that answer.
But with God on my side, I didn't feel quite so hopeless. I saw the presence of George and my mother and my sister in my life as life-lines from God, part of a larger story whose meaning was hidden from me. Their love pulled me back and gave me a new perspective on my own story. I started reading my life from the perspective of hope and faith, and eventually hope and faith won. I can't answer the bigger questions about the meaning of life or why bad things happen, but I think I have a bead on a more useful question:
What are we supposed to do with our lives?
The answer, I think, is in the interaction of actin and myocin filaments. It's in helping each other do something, in pulling or pushing or connecting with other people along the way to achieve something more wonderful than we can do alone and ultimately more wonderful than we can ever understand. The answer is in our relationship to others in the world.
That young man's crisis of faith, his depression, and his teenage angst have turned him into a filament floating alone in a cell. I know exactly how that feels. He can't do much except try to figure out how to reconnect to something, and given the loving and caring people around him, I have faith that he'll reconnect eventually.
Actin and myocin filaments were made to do a job, and they do that job well. What job were we made to do? What do we humans have that actin and myocin filaments don't? Consciousness. Self-awareness. The ability to think about and question creation, to feel pain and disappointment and doubt and love and joy and faith. The ability to connect with other humans in meaningful ways.
God doesn't give us meaning like a waiter handing us our entree on a silver platter. God gives us lives to create meaning through our actions and words. We always have a choice, whether we see it or not. We can choose to connect with something bigger and better than ourselves, and make our lives meaningful. We can choose to use our actions and words to help others. We can transform our suffering into compassion and understanding, find ways to reach out to others, to pull others toward comfort and light and joy.
Jesus' life set an example for us...a life of action and words lived out from the perspective of love and compassion and mercy and forgiveness. Ordinary people all over the world--Christians, atheists, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, agnostics, whatever--live His example every single day. Consider Aaron Alvin Sr (turning his life from drugs to helping others) and Master Sgt. Robert Allen (reaching out to his wife 7,000 miles away) and countless others who remain forever anonymous to us. None of them knows the answer to the question of the meaning of life.
They just live their lives with meaning.
This Christmas, consider how you are creating meaning in your own life. Perhaps your meaning is within the four walls of your home as you care for and raise children. Perhaps it's in your job. Perhaps it's in the pursuit of education. Perhaps it's in your volunteer work or your charitable giving or a simple phone call to a friend you haven't spoken to for months or that back rub you gave your wife as she washed dishes the other night. I encourage you to consider Christ's example, whether you believe Him to be the son of God or not, and celebrate your connection to hope and joy and love. Choose to mean something good.
Merry Christmas.
That question scares me. It's big. It's beyond big. At this point in my life, I'm convinced we're not meant to answer it anyway. The irony is that I love answering questions about meaning. I'm an English major to my core. Life, however, isn't one of the Canterbury Tales or a Jane Austen novel or a poem by T.S. Eliot. It's not even a Shakespearean play, as painful as that is for me to admit. Reading the meaning in our lives isn't like reading a masterpiece of literature.
Or is it?
In To Kill a Mockingbird, Judge Taylor says, "People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for." What we believe or don't believe about the meaning of life becomes the perspective from which we look and listen for the meaning of life, our life's literary theory, if you will. And it's important to have a good theory, or life gets really wonky.
I have a friend whose teenage son is questioning the existence of God. This young man has been a beacon of faith until now, and his loss of faith strikes a chord with me. When I was about his age, I lost my faith, too. My life had become so painful, so confusing, so emotionally chaotic that I simply couldn't believe there was a benevolent God anywhere. If God was as good as I'd been taught in Sunday school, how could I hurt so very much? Why didn't He help me? Why was I still alive? Screw you, God, and that donkey you rode in on.
Clearly I had a radical change of perspective at some point, and I remember the moment vividly. I was an 18-year-old undergraduate sitting in Professor Mary Nijhout's cell biology class in the spring semester of 1985. Professor Nijhout was lecturing brilliantly on muscle contraction at the molecular level, drawing complex, multicolored diagrams on the chalk board in a lecture hall that seated several hundred students. As I contemplated the incredible elegance of actin and myocin filaments and the sheer number of chemical reactions taking place in my hand to copy Professor Nijhout's complex diagrams, I experienced a flash of awareness of the awesomeness of creation...and the unlikelihood of its having happened by accident. I said a brief prayer of apology to God for doubting and continued taking notes.
Rather a different experience from the apostle Paul's on the road to Damascus, but there it is.
My depression didn't lift immediately; chemical imbalances in the teenage brain don't resolve themselves overnight or in a flash of awareness in a Duke University lecture hall or on the psychologist's couch. I still didn't have an answer to the question of why I hurt so badly if God was an omniscient, omnipotent good guy. I still don't have that answer.
But with God on my side, I didn't feel quite so hopeless. I saw the presence of George and my mother and my sister in my life as life-lines from God, part of a larger story whose meaning was hidden from me. Their love pulled me back and gave me a new perspective on my own story. I started reading my life from the perspective of hope and faith, and eventually hope and faith won. I can't answer the bigger questions about the meaning of life or why bad things happen, but I think I have a bead on a more useful question:
What are we supposed to do with our lives?
The answer, I think, is in the interaction of actin and myocin filaments. It's in helping each other do something, in pulling or pushing or connecting with other people along the way to achieve something more wonderful than we can do alone and ultimately more wonderful than we can ever understand. The answer is in our relationship to others in the world.
That young man's crisis of faith, his depression, and his teenage angst have turned him into a filament floating alone in a cell. I know exactly how that feels. He can't do much except try to figure out how to reconnect to something, and given the loving and caring people around him, I have faith that he'll reconnect eventually.
Actin and myocin filaments were made to do a job, and they do that job well. What job were we made to do? What do we humans have that actin and myocin filaments don't? Consciousness. Self-awareness. The ability to think about and question creation, to feel pain and disappointment and doubt and love and joy and faith. The ability to connect with other humans in meaningful ways.
God doesn't give us meaning like a waiter handing us our entree on a silver platter. God gives us lives to create meaning through our actions and words. We always have a choice, whether we see it or not. We can choose to connect with something bigger and better than ourselves, and make our lives meaningful. We can choose to use our actions and words to help others. We can transform our suffering into compassion and understanding, find ways to reach out to others, to pull others toward comfort and light and joy.
Jesus' life set an example for us...a life of action and words lived out from the perspective of love and compassion and mercy and forgiveness. Ordinary people all over the world--Christians, atheists, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, agnostics, whatever--live His example every single day. Consider Aaron Alvin Sr (turning his life from drugs to helping others) and Master Sgt. Robert Allen (reaching out to his wife 7,000 miles away) and countless others who remain forever anonymous to us. None of them knows the answer to the question of the meaning of life.
They just live their lives with meaning.
This Christmas, consider how you are creating meaning in your own life. Perhaps your meaning is within the four walls of your home as you care for and raise children. Perhaps it's in your job. Perhaps it's in the pursuit of education. Perhaps it's in your volunteer work or your charitable giving or a simple phone call to a friend you haven't spoken to for months or that back rub you gave your wife as she washed dishes the other night. I encourage you to consider Christ's example, whether you believe Him to be the son of God or not, and celebrate your connection to hope and joy and love. Choose to mean something good.
Merry Christmas.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Things on Thursday: Funky Furniture
Well, funky is a highly relative term, don't you think? For me and George, funky is anything that isn't boring and traditional, that steps outside what we generally think of as safe and typical. We definitely think of funky as good, though of course we know that funky can carry negative connotations as well. When applied to furniture, funky can look like this rather formal yet decidedly eclectic furniture set:
This is the set we just bought for our new living room. It's funky in that it has six different fabrics plus leather, and a rather unusual profile and shape. Best of all, George and I both love it, though neither of us can articulate quite why. Except that it's different, and well-made, and extremely comfortable, and, well, funky.
Very generally speaking, I prefer light colors (beachy blues, greens, whites, and sand) and furniture with very clean and simple lines (think Danish modern or a breezy, beachy style), although my tastes in home decor truly are wildly eclectic and flexible, from medieval tapestries to Tudor chairs to Georgian desks to Victorian sofas to Shaker simplicity. George is a dude, and therefore prefers dark, rich reds and greens with substantial Mission style furniture, leather, and/or rustic styles.
Our new house is rather traditional, and the interior just doesn't scream Danish modern to me. The dark cherry floors and tan walls and light fixtures are warm and cozy, not light and beachy. When we started looking for furniture, we had no idea what we wanted. Mostly we were gravitating toward traditional shapes and colors.
Until we saw the funky furniture, which we think will look great in this family room space.
Do you prefer traditional or ultra-modern or country ruffles or rustic mountain cabin or Danish modern or some other style for your home? Do you prefer matchy-matchy or eclectic pieces or pieces that tell your family's story? Would you have bought the wagon-wheel-chandeliered ballroom?
Inquiring minds want to know.
 |
| Can't wait to curl up in this chair with a good book! |
This is the set we just bought for our new living room. It's funky in that it has six different fabrics plus leather, and a rather unusual profile and shape. Best of all, George and I both love it, though neither of us can articulate quite why. Except that it's different, and well-made, and extremely comfortable, and, well, funky.
Very generally speaking, I prefer light colors (beachy blues, greens, whites, and sand) and furniture with very clean and simple lines (think Danish modern or a breezy, beachy style), although my tastes in home decor truly are wildly eclectic and flexible, from medieval tapestries to Tudor chairs to Georgian desks to Victorian sofas to Shaker simplicity. George is a dude, and therefore prefers dark, rich reds and greens with substantial Mission style furniture, leather, and/or rustic styles.
Our new house is rather traditional, and the interior just doesn't scream Danish modern to me. The dark cherry floors and tan walls and light fixtures are warm and cozy, not light and beachy. When we started looking for furniture, we had no idea what we wanted. Mostly we were gravitating toward traditional shapes and colors.
Until we saw the funky furniture, which we think will look great in this family room space.
Do you prefer traditional or ultra-modern or country ruffles or rustic mountain cabin or Danish modern or some other style for your home? Do you prefer matchy-matchy or eclectic pieces or pieces that tell your family's story? Would you have bought the wagon-wheel-chandeliered ballroom?
Inquiring minds want to know.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Gratitude Journal #116
Today, I am grateful that Jack didn't break a bone or hit his head when he fell down the frosty deck stairs yesterday. Oh how grateful we are that he just has a bruised bottom and not broken bones or a concussion!
Today, I am grateful for the fridge we bought yesterday. We got a Samsung stainless steel, French door model with water and ice in the door (on sale at Best Buy!). We also narrowed our search for some new furniture.
Today, I am grateful for a good night's sleep.
Today, I am grateful George's nephew graduated from diesel engine school. Way to go, Matt!
Today, I am grateful for a few hours spent with a good friend on Friday.
Today, I am grateful for the third week in Advent, with its emphasis on joy. I definitely feel joyful!
What are you grateful for today?
Today, I am grateful for the fridge we bought yesterday. We got a Samsung stainless steel, French door model with water and ice in the door (on sale at Best Buy!). We also narrowed our search for some new furniture.
Today, I am grateful for a good night's sleep.
Today, I am grateful George's nephew graduated from diesel engine school. Way to go, Matt!
Today, I am grateful for a few hours spent with a good friend on Friday.
Today, I am grateful for the third week in Advent, with its emphasis on joy. I definitely feel joyful!
What are you grateful for today?
Friday, December 9, 2011
Words, Words, Words about Animals and People
"Many people believe they know what goes on in the head of an animal, but I believe I almost never do. I close my eyes, clear my head, and listen, and I hear sounds and feel emotions that are strange to me, and not describable. I love the mystical connection of animals and people. If I listen, only if I listen, and clear my head of the arrogant human idea that I know." Jon Katz
Katz usually has intelligent insights into the human-animal bond, and he captured my feelings exactly in this passage from his blog. George and I have always anthropomorphized our pets by carrying on ventriloquist conversations with them. One of us will pretend to speak for the dog, while the other talks to the dog. But we've always recognized the process of anthropomorphizing is just a guess, a projection of our imagination on a creature whose own thoughts remain largely alien and inaccessible to us.
Dogs eat poop. How in the world do you explain that?
For us, I think that alien-ness makes dogs more appealing. Well, not the poop-eating, of course. But they clearly need us and respond to us and enjoy being with us, without being able to understand us. How could Daisy understand television? She largely ignores it, perhaps because there is no smell, and we do know dogs relate to their world much more through smell than sight. But what does that mean, to have so many smell receptors that we would be able to distinguish a fish sandwich being eaten five miles away?
And if their smell receptors are so sensitive, how can they eat poop?
We see their reactions and attribute human feelings and thoughts to them, but George and I suspect that most of the time, they are thinking, "What?" Their brains are capable of fear, pleasure, and anger...primitive emotions regulated by primitive parts of their brains that largely resemble the primitive parts of our brains. Beyond that, our understanding of their responses becomes guesswork.
Still, we do manage to co-exist rather nicely, despite our big frontal lobes and their tiny ones. Dogs and people have evolved to be together, to need each other and to serve each other's needs. They tolerate us and our foibles and our neediness, without understanding us very well at all.
The least we can do is return the favor.
Katz usually has intelligent insights into the human-animal bond, and he captured my feelings exactly in this passage from his blog. George and I have always anthropomorphized our pets by carrying on ventriloquist conversations with them. One of us will pretend to speak for the dog, while the other talks to the dog. But we've always recognized the process of anthropomorphizing is just a guess, a projection of our imagination on a creature whose own thoughts remain largely alien and inaccessible to us.
Dogs eat poop. How in the world do you explain that?
For us, I think that alien-ness makes dogs more appealing. Well, not the poop-eating, of course. But they clearly need us and respond to us and enjoy being with us, without being able to understand us. How could Daisy understand television? She largely ignores it, perhaps because there is no smell, and we do know dogs relate to their world much more through smell than sight. But what does that mean, to have so many smell receptors that we would be able to distinguish a fish sandwich being eaten five miles away?
And if their smell receptors are so sensitive, how can they eat poop?
We see their reactions and attribute human feelings and thoughts to them, but George and I suspect that most of the time, they are thinking, "What?" Their brains are capable of fear, pleasure, and anger...primitive emotions regulated by primitive parts of their brains that largely resemble the primitive parts of our brains. Beyond that, our understanding of their responses becomes guesswork.
Still, we do manage to co-exist rather nicely, despite our big frontal lobes and their tiny ones. Dogs and people have evolved to be together, to need each other and to serve each other's needs. They tolerate us and our foibles and our neediness, without understanding us very well at all.
The least we can do is return the favor.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Things on Thursday: Christmas Decor
A couple weeks ago, I found this fab winter-lodge-themed Advent calendar at Target (on sale...yippy!) and had to get it. Santa will fill the cubby behind #25, but I filled the others with tootsie rolls. My boys are loving it!
Obviously, very few other decorations are out in my house this year, but of course my nativity scene, painted by my mother years ago, stands on the center of my mantle.
Another returning decoration is the Elf on the Shelf. Ours is named Chris. Jack loves tracking him down each morning as he finds new places to hang out, like when he hung upside down from the breakfast room light fixture or in a glass in the cupboard.
What new Christmas decoration have you added to your collection this year? What older piece holds special meaning for you?
Obviously, very few other decorations are out in my house this year, but of course my nativity scene, painted by my mother years ago, stands on the center of my mantle.
Another returning decoration is the Elf on the Shelf. Ours is named Chris. Jack loves tracking him down each morning as he finds new places to hang out, like when he hung upside down from the breakfast room light fixture or in a glass in the cupboard.
What new Christmas decoration have you added to your collection this year? What older piece holds special meaning for you?
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Contemplating Hope in the Holidays
Our Stephen Ministry distributed Mustard Seed ornaments this weekend during all three services at our church.
The front of each card has a Christmas star with a mustard seed glued to the center:
The back looks like this:
Our purpose in making and giving these ornaments was to draw attention to those who quietly suffer through the holidays. Those who have lost loved ones, jobs, friends, marriages, homes, independence, or health often cannot summon even an ounce of joy or hope during the holidays. In fact, everyone else's happiness can make their sadness and pain worse.
That's where the mustard seed comes in.
Jesus teaches that the kingdom of God starts with a tiny mustard seed of faith. Our hope at times may be very small, like that mustard seed, but hand that seed over to God, and He will grow it. It won't become a big tree in the kingdom overnight; that takes time. But if you can trust Him, even just a little bit, your seed of faith will grow into a kingdom of hope.
At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Christ, a tiny baby who grew into a man. His birth brought hope into the world, a hope of infinite power and promise. But when he was tiny, his family didn't have a room in the inn, was forced to flee from Herod, and lived in exile for a while to protect that tiny hope.
When our own hope is small, we can call to mind that tiny baby and know that hope in Christ isn't small at all. We don't have to pretend to be happy or feel guilty that our feelings aren't in tune with the season. We just have to think about that mustard seed and trust that God's got it covered.
Because He does.
The front of each card has a Christmas star with a mustard seed glued to the center:
The back looks like this:
Our purpose in making and giving these ornaments was to draw attention to those who quietly suffer through the holidays. Those who have lost loved ones, jobs, friends, marriages, homes, independence, or health often cannot summon even an ounce of joy or hope during the holidays. In fact, everyone else's happiness can make their sadness and pain worse.
That's where the mustard seed comes in.
Jesus teaches that the kingdom of God starts with a tiny mustard seed of faith. Our hope at times may be very small, like that mustard seed, but hand that seed over to God, and He will grow it. It won't become a big tree in the kingdom overnight; that takes time. But if you can trust Him, even just a little bit, your seed of faith will grow into a kingdom of hope.
At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Christ, a tiny baby who grew into a man. His birth brought hope into the world, a hope of infinite power and promise. But when he was tiny, his family didn't have a room in the inn, was forced to flee from Herod, and lived in exile for a while to protect that tiny hope.
When our own hope is small, we can call to mind that tiny baby and know that hope in Christ isn't small at all. We don't have to pretend to be happy or feel guilty that our feelings aren't in tune with the season. We just have to think about that mustard seed and trust that God's got it covered.
Because He does.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Gratitude Journal #115
Today, I am grateful for Christmas trees, lights, nativity scenes, and reindeer landing lights. Most of all, I'm grateful for the Reason for the Season: Jesus Christ.
Today, I am grateful for skilled labor and the amazing things people can do with their hands.
Today, I am grateful for this picture from Pinterest.
The maker of this fabulous project even used a semicolon properly, for which I am thankful.
Blessings to you all.
What are you grateful for today?
Today, I am grateful for skilled labor and the amazing things people can do with their hands.
Today, I am grateful for this picture from Pinterest.
The maker of this fabulous project even used a semicolon properly, for which I am thankful.
Blessings to you all.
What are you grateful for today?
Sunday, December 4, 2011
House Update
We're closing on the new house December 28th and moving our personal belongings (not furniture, though) to the new house the next day. Our furniture will stay in the old house until it sells, but we're shopping for a few new pieces of furniture that we would have eventually bought anyway to get us through until we can get fully moved.
We're also shopping for a fridge. I think we've settled on a stainless steel model with freezer on bottom and double doors on top. Many thanks to all of you who shared your fridge experiences with us.
We have our first showing of the old house today, and hopefully it sells soon. If not, the builder of our new house will buy it...a sweet deal for us and one that made this whole move possible in the first place.
We visited the house yesterday to measure for area rugs, and the builder has done so much work to get it ready! It was exciting to see the door pulls on all the cabinets, the cooktop and wall ovens installed, the door hardware on the front and back doors, and the bottom, stone portion of the front porch column built.
At one point, Jack asked me to go with him to the back bedroom. He asked, "Is this going to be my room?" I replied that it would be, and his face lit up. "Thank you, mommy, for giving me a room with such a beautiful view!"
I guess he'll handle the change pretty well!
After fretting and hemming and hawwing over whether to get a real tree, I finally decided that it just wasn't practical. But because everyone in the family enjoys the experience of going to Big Tree Plantation, we're still going to take Daisy and go, donate a tree to the family of a deployed soldier, take a horse-drawn hay ride, visit Santa and a few of his reindeer, drink hot cider, and each buy an ornament to commemorate the year we moved into our new house.
Last year, when Daisy saw the horses, she didn't know what to make of them. Hopefully, this year, she is a bit braver and more mature. Not likely, though. She's still a big goofball.
The kids and I decorated our dinky little fake tree with pretty dark red and gold ornaments, most of George's grandmother's vintage glass ornaments, glass icicles, cotton boll angels, and our White House ornaments, given to us by military friends stationed in DC.
As several of you recommended, we put it on a box to elevate it a bit, and that helped so much! The tree looks so pretty and festive, but is totally impersonal as befits a staged house. All the personal ornaments--the handmade ones and ones that have been given to us and the ones we've collected as we've moved around the country-- are still packed away.
Next year's tree will have nothing but our more personal ornaments on it, including--on top--the large construction-paper-and-glitter-star Jack made years ago in preschool. After all, we'll be in our very own new house and won't that be something to celebrate!
The rest of the Christmas decorations I have put up are understated but festive (mostly garland), and I decorated the mantle with our nativity set (handpainted by my mom) and two pinecone "trees" I bought at Target a few years ago. (Will share pictures later of them later). Hopefully, strangers wandering through our house will appreciate the decor and will want to buy our house.
May this, the second Sunday in Advent, prepare you for the spirit of Hope, Joy, and Love that is the reason for the season.
We're also shopping for a fridge. I think we've settled on a stainless steel model with freezer on bottom and double doors on top. Many thanks to all of you who shared your fridge experiences with us.
We have our first showing of the old house today, and hopefully it sells soon. If not, the builder of our new house will buy it...a sweet deal for us and one that made this whole move possible in the first place.
We visited the house yesterday to measure for area rugs, and the builder has done so much work to get it ready! It was exciting to see the door pulls on all the cabinets, the cooktop and wall ovens installed, the door hardware on the front and back doors, and the bottom, stone portion of the front porch column built.
At one point, Jack asked me to go with him to the back bedroom. He asked, "Is this going to be my room?" I replied that it would be, and his face lit up. "Thank you, mommy, for giving me a room with such a beautiful view!"
I guess he'll handle the change pretty well!
After fretting and hemming and hawwing over whether to get a real tree, I finally decided that it just wasn't practical. But because everyone in the family enjoys the experience of going to Big Tree Plantation, we're still going to take Daisy and go, donate a tree to the family of a deployed soldier, take a horse-drawn hay ride, visit Santa and a few of his reindeer, drink hot cider, and each buy an ornament to commemorate the year we moved into our new house.
Last year, when Daisy saw the horses, she didn't know what to make of them. Hopefully, this year, she is a bit braver and more mature. Not likely, though. She's still a big goofball.
The kids and I decorated our dinky little fake tree with pretty dark red and gold ornaments, most of George's grandmother's vintage glass ornaments, glass icicles, cotton boll angels, and our White House ornaments, given to us by military friends stationed in DC.
As several of you recommended, we put it on a box to elevate it a bit, and that helped so much! The tree looks so pretty and festive, but is totally impersonal as befits a staged house. All the personal ornaments--the handmade ones and ones that have been given to us and the ones we've collected as we've moved around the country-- are still packed away.
 |
| Love these handpainted ornaments I bought at KMart years ago. |
Next year's tree will have nothing but our more personal ornaments on it, including--on top--the large construction-paper-and-glitter-star Jack made years ago in preschool. After all, we'll be in our very own new house and won't that be something to celebrate!
The rest of the Christmas decorations I have put up are understated but festive (mostly garland), and I decorated the mantle with our nativity set (handpainted by my mom) and two pinecone "trees" I bought at Target a few years ago. (Will share pictures later of them later). Hopefully, strangers wandering through our house will appreciate the decor and will want to buy our house.
May this, the second Sunday in Advent, prepare you for the spirit of Hope, Joy, and Love that is the reason for the season.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Weekly Giggle: Check These Out
I found this link on Dooce...Heather Armstrong's blog and it almost made me spit coffee onto my computer. You have been warned.
Carli Davidson Photography
You're welcome.
Carli Davidson Photography
You're welcome.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Words, Words, Words for Those Who Are Hurting
Use these words when you don't know what to say. They work.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Guilty Pleasures
Have you ever experienced stress so mind-blowingly busy that your higher cognitive functions shut down and all you want to do is curl up in a fetal position, suck your thumb, and occasionally wail "Mommy!" in pathos and defeat?
Yes. I'm melodramatic. Surprised? If so, you must be new here.
However much you want to curl up and wail, you're not allowed, and neither am I. This is one of the most unfair things about adulthood and wifehood and motherhood and service to humanity in the name of the Holy Spirit or whatever it is you choose to call your guilty conscience: too many other people are depending on you to help THEM not curl up and wail.
So what keeps you from having a complete mental breakdown when life points a hundred tennis ball throwing machines* at you and expects you keep your eyes on all the balls at once?
Prayer and awareness that God loves me certainly get me through most days upright and wail-free (or at least merely whiny), but I think God made people curious and this world entertaining for a reason. Guilty pleasures (at least, innocent ones) can give us the little freshing breaks throughout our hectic, stressful days, reset our perspective, and keep us going.
If you're not giving a bit of rein to your oxymoronic innocent guilty pleasures, one of three things is wrong.
First, you may have bought into the current cultural trend of believing that there's a prize for whoever is busiest. People, there is no prize, unless you count exhaustion as a prize, which I don't. Sometimes life gets busy, but we should stay alert for ways to slow it down, take breathers, rest. Learning to say no helps enormously.
Second, you may enjoy being a martyr. We all enjoy indulging in a bit of self-pity every now and then, wishing others would do for us like we do for them, but for some people martyrdom becomes an Olympic sport. Snap out of it! Remember that you can't help others put on their oxygen masks if you are passing out yourself.
Third, you may have a serious mental illness and need to see a licenced medical professional. I'm not joking here, not even one tiny little bit, because I've been there. When people can no longer muster the energy to do something just for fun, become so obsessed with work that they can't stop and smell the roses, or start having physical symptoms of stress (panic attacks, racing heartbeat, weight loss or gain, insomnia, etc.), professional medical help is absolutely critical.
For those of us with fairly normal brain chemistry (stop laughing, George), a little indulgence in guilty pleasures can keep us happy and coping with life's tennis ball throwing machines. Here are a few of my guilty pleasures from the past two crazy-stressful months.
1. The Big Bang Theory. Television has been giving us guilty pleasures since its invention in the late 1920s, though I imagine there really was not much worth watching in those really early days when not even the big three networks were around. Our family hardly ever watches network television in these days of National Geographic, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, History Channel, and Light Jazz Music. Yes, we're geeks, so when a friend encouraged me to check out The Big Bang Theory, a sitcom about geeks, I started watching reruns on cable channels. After watching my first show, I enthusiastically informed George, who was out of town, that we needed to start watching it ALL THE TIME. He asked why. I told him a character named Sheldon went to a Halloween party dressed as the Doppler Effect. George's response: "That is so COOL!" Sheldon is our new favorite person in the whole wide world.
2. Pinterest. The Internet provides lifetimes of guilty pleasures, and at least indulging in a little Pinterest won't require you to go to confession and say a hundred Hail, Marys, as other websites might. Oh, and if you get your significant other indulging in Pinterest, as I have done, then it's a couple's activity. (Just don't let the kids on it as content isn't always appropriate for young eyes and you just never know what will pop up on the screen as you scroll down.)
3. Rereading novels I've read before. Picking up a well-loved novel and rereading my favorite parts is like visiting old friends. Very comforting.
4. Reading magazines. Since so many of my neural circuits are taken up with move-related details, my attention span is gnat-like. So magazines, which I've always loved, give me the quick fix of distraction I need.
5. Coffee. Until two months ago, I drank two cups every morning. I've now moved to three, but recognize that this guilty pleasure needs to be scaled back a bit. Coffee jitters are not a guilty pleasure.
Guilty pleasures, like everything else in life, are only good in moderation. Too much indulgence in them keeps us from carrying out our responsibilities. But truly, we need a little guilty pleasure in our life.
What are your innocent guilty pleasures?
*Shouldn't tennis ball throwing machines have a cooler name, something less clunky and more marketable? And shouldn't tennis ball be hyphenated? I googled them to find out a cooler name and they don't appear to have one, though some brands have tried to get creative. My favorite was the LOB-STER. But no one would know what you were talking about unless, well, they played tennis. Which I don't. So why am I digressing like this? Guilty word-nerd pleasure, I suspect.
Yes. I'm melodramatic. Surprised? If so, you must be new here.
However much you want to curl up and wail, you're not allowed, and neither am I. This is one of the most unfair things about adulthood and wifehood and motherhood and service to humanity in the name of the Holy Spirit or whatever it is you choose to call your guilty conscience: too many other people are depending on you to help THEM not curl up and wail.
So what keeps you from having a complete mental breakdown when life points a hundred tennis ball throwing machines* at you and expects you keep your eyes on all the balls at once?
Prayer and awareness that God loves me certainly get me through most days upright and wail-free (or at least merely whiny), but I think God made people curious and this world entertaining for a reason. Guilty pleasures (at least, innocent ones) can give us the little freshing breaks throughout our hectic, stressful days, reset our perspective, and keep us going.
If you're not giving a bit of rein to your oxymoronic innocent guilty pleasures, one of three things is wrong.
First, you may have bought into the current cultural trend of believing that there's a prize for whoever is busiest. People, there is no prize, unless you count exhaustion as a prize, which I don't. Sometimes life gets busy, but we should stay alert for ways to slow it down, take breathers, rest. Learning to say no helps enormously.
Second, you may enjoy being a martyr. We all enjoy indulging in a bit of self-pity every now and then, wishing others would do for us like we do for them, but for some people martyrdom becomes an Olympic sport. Snap out of it! Remember that you can't help others put on their oxygen masks if you are passing out yourself.
Third, you may have a serious mental illness and need to see a licenced medical professional. I'm not joking here, not even one tiny little bit, because I've been there. When people can no longer muster the energy to do something just for fun, become so obsessed with work that they can't stop and smell the roses, or start having physical symptoms of stress (panic attacks, racing heartbeat, weight loss or gain, insomnia, etc.), professional medical help is absolutely critical.
For those of us with fairly normal brain chemistry (stop laughing, George), a little indulgence in guilty pleasures can keep us happy and coping with life's tennis ball throwing machines. Here are a few of my guilty pleasures from the past two crazy-stressful months.
1. The Big Bang Theory. Television has been giving us guilty pleasures since its invention in the late 1920s, though I imagine there really was not much worth watching in those really early days when not even the big three networks were around. Our family hardly ever watches network television in these days of National Geographic, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, History Channel, and Light Jazz Music. Yes, we're geeks, so when a friend encouraged me to check out The Big Bang Theory, a sitcom about geeks, I started watching reruns on cable channels. After watching my first show, I enthusiastically informed George, who was out of town, that we needed to start watching it ALL THE TIME. He asked why. I told him a character named Sheldon went to a Halloween party dressed as the Doppler Effect. George's response: "That is so COOL!" Sheldon is our new favorite person in the whole wide world.
2. Pinterest. The Internet provides lifetimes of guilty pleasures, and at least indulging in a little Pinterest won't require you to go to confession and say a hundred Hail, Marys, as other websites might. Oh, and if you get your significant other indulging in Pinterest, as I have done, then it's a couple's activity. (Just don't let the kids on it as content isn't always appropriate for young eyes and you just never know what will pop up on the screen as you scroll down.)
3. Rereading novels I've read before. Picking up a well-loved novel and rereading my favorite parts is like visiting old friends. Very comforting.
4. Reading magazines. Since so many of my neural circuits are taken up with move-related details, my attention span is gnat-like. So magazines, which I've always loved, give me the quick fix of distraction I need.
5. Coffee. Until two months ago, I drank two cups every morning. I've now moved to three, but recognize that this guilty pleasure needs to be scaled back a bit. Coffee jitters are not a guilty pleasure.
Guilty pleasures, like everything else in life, are only good in moderation. Too much indulgence in them keeps us from carrying out our responsibilities. But truly, we need a little guilty pleasure in our life.
What are your innocent guilty pleasures?
*Shouldn't tennis ball throwing machines have a cooler name, something less clunky and more marketable? And shouldn't tennis ball be hyphenated? I googled them to find out a cooler name and they don't appear to have one, though some brands have tried to get creative. My favorite was the LOB-STER. But no one would know what you were talking about unless, well, they played tennis. Which I don't. So why am I digressing like this? Guilty word-nerd pleasure, I suspect.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)