Obsessed with the Sixties

It's research, honest! The whole reason I'm almost exclusively listening to the Oldies station, looking up obscure facts about the various political events and movements, the reason my wardrobe is moving in a Bohemian direction is all research. I've not really fallen in love with the time period that destroyed civilization as we know it. I'm not finally conceding that the Beatles might have had something. I haven't given in and embraced the brash exploration of what the best life is by crazy young adults for whom very little was out of bounds. OK, I still have a lot of bounds. Bounds are my life, but studying other people's courage is almost as good.
The more I work on this book the more I realize research is going to be critical to it's success. I'm going to need to spend a week in Chattanooga, another in New York City and at least a few days in Boston. I can get enough for this first draft off the internet, but once I've committed to the events I select from the rather over written manuscript I'm creating, then I'll need hard facts and even photos. I'm not sure I can get with inserting my characters into the only historical event I want to modify by inserting my characters. Fortunately the boomers involved are still alive and B list enough that I can contact them with a reasonable assurance of success.
In any case, growing up with the certitude that the sixties were to blame for everything, it's been a lot of fun discovering the positives.

Netflix for the Holidays

Keeping Mum--This is rated R and deserves it, but don't let that stop the adults in your household from indulging in this witty play with the idea of Grace. It has no direct tie to Christmas, but it is so funny I can't keep mum about it. :)
Tsotsi--This would be a sophisticated albeit dark choice for an adult Christmas gathering. Not exactly It's a Wonderful Life, this meditation on redemption would inspire all kinds of interesting conversation.

Children of Heaven--This is a G rated film that children ought to see. Iranian siblings struggle to keep a lost pair of shoes from putting a further strain on an already struggling family. The ending is heartbreaking largely because of its innocence.
Babette's Feast--This is another meditation on Grace, a more conventional study than Keeping Mum, but equally interesting in its way.
Merry Christmas--Before my kids and I studied modern history I thought World War I was some kind of milder version of WWII. Now I think of it as the stupidest war in history. I'm not alone in that opinion, the soldiers in the trenches weren't all that infatuated with it either. This film celebrates the true story of the impromptu truce the soldiers themselves called on Christmas.

Facebook

I finally joined something on-line. I did it initially because Facebook was the only way to contact someone I needed to hear from. My account just sat there until a high school friend found me and the connections game was off and running. At first, I was going to delete the account, but how to do it without offending the people who'd found me? After a while the whole thing grew on me, and I did my own searches.
I'm up to around 25 people, and I'm thinking about chilling out. To have so many people from so many different time periods suddenly present in my life again is overwhelming. Elementary school rivalry mixed with former students mixed with people that were only part of my life for a brief but powerful moment. I'm a bit dizzy from it all.
I didn't think so many people remembered me. It's very nice to find that they do. I guess I'll need to adjust to the emotional clutter.

My first crucifix

Getting together with my mother's family was always a summer activity. We lived close enough that we could have gotten together every week, but we're brooders and therefore need our space. The times we did get together were good, particularly when it was my mother's cousin Aunt Karen. (My dad's family insists on titles like that so I call all relatives of his generation or older Aunt or Uncle, sometimes they aren't even relatives just very close friends. It's a lovely tradition. I wish I had enough friends and relatives to pass it along.) The only downside was they lived near the coldest lakes in the region and that's where we'd go. Everyone has their battle strategy for leaving the delicious warmth of summer for the subterranean chill of mountain lakes. Mine was always slow and easy. Giving my blood time to chill made it easy to finally dip under and swim. Every time I tried jumping in I was out as fast as I was in.
Slow and easy is actually the same strategy I adopt for most things, and becoming a Catholic is no different. It started with discovering nuns in the Sound of Music and it has ended with my confirmation in the church. I have not filled my house with Catholic stuff yet. There are a lot of Catholic books, which is in a funny way rather Protestant, and I regularly attend Mass. Confession I go as needed. There are a long number of things I intend to try as soon as my life slows down or simplifies. But none of these are things that change my house. My home until now has remained Protestant. That's beginning to change. I have candles on the window sill that I light for my current favorite saints--St. Mary, St. Zita, and St. Scholastica. I have my eye on the candles at the supermarket--maybe for Christmas. The biggest change is I finally got a crucifix. It's not standard as you can see, but the shop only had 6 or 7 and I didn't like the Jesus on the others. He was either sleeping or he was like Munch's Scream. This one was in the middle ground and as I looked at it the more it inspired me. The Father's tender care for his Son is evident and the roll of the Holy Spirit is also honored. I know that Christ was alone on the cross, but in some ways his suffering continues now because of us and the way we treat each other. I like to think that this crucifix reminds me that I don't suffer alone. As we identify with Christ we are upheld by the Father. I'll have to check my catechism to see if I've got that right.
In any case, the more I walk toward the Church the more I benefit. Having permission to let objects and fellow Christians remind me of what is important and that I must obey is, for me, a huge help to going forward in my faith. Perhaps it has something with being a brooder who needs her space. Every new step raises my gaze and helps me move forward. The more I bring in the Church the more my space becomes sacred, or maybe more properly the more I see it's sacredness. In any case I've made good progress in doing what's right since I nailed up my crucifix. It's time to dip under and swim.

Fork in the Road?

Motherhood was priority number one when I was young. Once I made the fundamental choice of family over career, I did it with gusto. Six kids is not something that happens by itself, despite the frequent teasing we get. I've really tried hard to be certain that my children have access to me, that they get enough time to feel loved and heard. Homeschooling has been a big part of that, because we are together all day long. The only problem with that is that we are together all day long. ;)
This year is the first year that the numbers game felt overwhelming. Keeping five children on track while keeping the house in reasonable order and tending an infant can ratchet up my perfectionism beyond reasonable tolerances. The kids are getting better at fulfilling their responsibilities and Merry Maids is a Godsend, but I'm still falling back on Lamaze breathing some days. This is also the first year we have Co-op. The kids can't believe we've ever lived without it, and I'm inclined to agree even though it does force us to get school done in four days instead of five.
This Friday, Kurt took the kids and fulfilled my responsibilities at Co-op, so that I could prepare our home for a sleepover. I haven't been alone in this house, perhaps ever. Cleaning, caring for baby, it was all so easy with the five of them gone. My mind started to wonder--what if they were in school? If the kids went to school I could keep the house the way I like it. Working out would be easy, and the biggest temptation of all, I'd have time to write.
I knew writing was becoming important when I couldn't stop doing it. I kept finding myself sneaking off to work on a story. I knew the story had become important when I thought that our van had been stolen and I was far more concerned about my manuscript than I was about the van. Now I'm beginning to realize how serious I am about completing it as I keep showing up at my writer's group even though I know I'm going to take a pounding because my work isn't as polished as I'd like.
I want more time to write. Two or three hours every Saturday after Mass is not enough. All I can do is put the ideas on paper. Editing is going to have to wait, or I'll never get the initial draft done. I've got four-fifths of the book to go and I've been serious about this for three years. I don't think I'm ready to send the kids to school yet, but I'm struggling to see any other way to get some more writing time. I suppose I'll just have to live with what I've got.

Feeling Groovy

Feeling awful for a long time has a few unexpected benefits, the largest of which is that when you finally do feel good you feel great. All that weight and fear and guilt fall off and it's almost like God pushed the reset button on your life. For a long time now my life has been wearing me. Today I know what I want to do and how I want to do it and I know it's the right thing to do. Not a bad way to get ready for church.