Over and Above My Wishlist

Earlier in the season, I posted a list of books I'd like and wished for the time to read them.  The books came and I'm making the time.  I started with Myths from Mesopotamia by Stephanie Dalley.  She includes so many details and end notes that my interest was stirred beyond the story of Adapa, and I found myself thinking of ancient stories in new ways.  Practical matters like missing bits and lost cultural assumptions.  I wanted the kids at our homeschool cooperative to have the same experience, but I knew it'd be difficult to acquire sufficient copies of the text.  "Ye have not because ye ask not" is a piece of ancient literature I was taught well.  On a whim I looked up Ms. Dalley and sent her an email asking if I might copy the pages for the kids.  To my great delight she replied the seven pages I needed were an allowed amount to copy.  It felt so good to send out those pages to my students.  It's going to be such a great class.  

Ms. Dalley also suggested we watch her documentary on finding the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.  You can see it HERE on YouTube.  It is exactly the kind of thing we want the kids to be watching.  The careful detective work, the critical contributions and leadership of a woman, and the terrible losses we are suffering because we'd rather fight instead of fight for peace, these are all values every kids should be exposed to.  Sometimes it's not just a book, sometime's it a new world or a new hero.  Sometimes it's all of the above.

Musical Toothbrush

There is always that one cool toy you buy your kids, but wish Santa had bought one for you.  This toothbrush is my secret wish this year.   Sure two minutes seems like forever, but you don't notice as much when the music is going straight into your brain.  The things they have for kids these days.

See it here. 

Early Christmas Present

I am proud to announce my oldest daughter has been accepted by The University of Michigan, her first choice.  We are all so proud of her and her accomplishment.  She'd like to study neuroscience even though she is an amazing writer.  Whatever she does, she does well.

god is in the details

I've been working on this tree topper for years.  I want it to express my beautiful faith, and it does.  The Crown of Thorns reminds us of this baby's destiny.  The lilies sing of the beauty and sacredness of the death whose clock starts ticking now.  The red berries proclaim the power of his blood both in its origin and in its purpose.  I loved it until I took a picture and looked at the details.  I left the price tags on.  One unattractive stem is simply hanging out there.  The top of the tree is still visible.  I immediately stopped seeing the meaning allowing minor details to rob me of this moment of faith.  My god shifted from the Christ to the details.  It was all about me, maybe it had been all along.  Bringing my heart back to purpose has been today's challenge, to remember who I am celebrating not how.

Intersection

I went to my first reconciliation service Sunday.  I've been to confession at the regularly offered time before, but this was my first group confession.  Not that we confessed as a group, there was half a mass and then we all lined up to get down to business.  Five priests who had joined with Father Dan were sprinkled around the church.  It was interesting that some priests had more fans than others.  I picked mine because I used to live in that priest's parish.  

I'm always surprised at how different Catholics approach these moments differently.  Some of us stood there making some small talk.  Some were nervous, constantly making little motions.  Some were bored.  I was trying to remember all my sins and making sure they were represented on my Mea Culpa App.  Some sins are easier to remember than others.

I liked the group experience.  The honesty of all that steaming shit I didn't know the details of, and the embarrassed relief as each person finished their penance, made me feel more completely part of things.  We were all in it together.  It was a good thing to know.

Fascinating

I have always been blessed with fascinating friends.  Starting with Rene Rosier in kindergarten until the present day, my friends have always stretched me and introduced me to wider worlds.  A recent addition, Janet Tyson, is helping me see art in new and hip ways through her work, guerrilla exhibitions, and most recently her art blog--artcite.net.

Janet's work is highly conceptualized without being stuffy.  Legos are her preferred medium and I never knew that they could say so much.  She also has a lot to say about other people's work.  I hadn't fully appreciated Rene Magritte and the Early Netherlandish artists before we were friends, and now I have new windows into the way the past connects with the present artist--that's useful no matter what creative field you work in.  You should quickly go and make her acquaintance.

Visit her HERE, and be prepared to learn.

The Other St. Francis

Today is the memorial of St. Francis Xavier.  He was a missionary to Asia.  I like his fervent spirit and his care for those who had no opportunity for education in the faith.  You can learn more about him HERE at this link.  Below is a quote from his letters.

Many, many people hereabouts are not becoming Christians for one reason only: there is nobody to make them Christians. Again and again I have thought of going round the universities of Europe, especially Paris, and everywhere crying out like a madman, riveting the attention of those with more learning than charity: “What a tragedy: how many souls are being shut out of heaven and falling into hell, thanks to you!”

I wish they would work as hard at this as they do at their books, and so settle their account with God for their learning and the talents entrusted to them.

This thought would certainly stir most of them to meditate on spiritual realities, to listen actively to what God is saying to them. They would forget their own desires, their human affairs, and give themselves over entirely to God’s will and his choice. They would cry out with all their heart:Lord, I am here! What do you want me to do?Send me anywhere you like—even to India.

Internal Censor

As children, my sister and I were often at the opposite ends of the spectrum on things as diverse as I prefer the white of eggs and she prefers the yolk.  I love cozy rainy days.  She has SAD when she doesn't get enough sun.  She is the "Id Without a Lid," and I was always so carefully censored my personality and interests were a bit of a surprise for my loved ones when they came popping out several years ago.

I censored everything including journals and personal expressions, even what I said to my best friends, my husband and my family. I was always taking the safest route which generally meant I went nowhere.  I still see the value of watching what you say.  There are many times when saying everything you feel can devastate people and not for anything of true worth, but everyone has to have someplace where they can think out loud.

For me I'm designating things and places in my life for honest self expression.  Having children was the very first undeniable adult expression of who I am and what I value.  If I was going to have lots of children, everyone was going to know what I really want and what I really value.  For my kids I was bold, wearing that big old belly long after people smiled and long into the territory where they give you advice on birth control.  Getting the best for them moved me into homeschooling, another controversial choice that people feel comfortable giving their opinion on.  Raising kids has helped me raise myself.  It's taught me to bear with unpleasant feedback.  There are times when you have to say things out loud.

But not everything, you can speak just to yourself, to hear and to judge what you're thinking.  I've decided if people choose to violate my private journals, or the things I said when I was just thinking out loud, than the fault lies with them. I still deserve a place to think, and I'm taking it.

A Father's Counsel

When I'm worried or upset about something important I try to do something useful about it.  When St. Lazare's Retreat House was closing just as I'd just discovered how wonderful retreats are, I determined to write people that could do something about it.  I felt much better after sticking on the stamps and mailing my missives.  Bishop Hurley wrote me a lovely letter, and I was pleased to trust God.  I also wrote Pope Francis, expecting maybe a form letter if that.  Just recently a letter with a little pouch containing a white rosary and a picture of Pope Francis arrived.  I was truly touched, especially as I realized more prayer was very wise counsel indeed.  

Christmas Wish List

1.  Myths from Mesopotamia translated by Stephanie Dalley

2.  Legends of the Gods: The Egyptian Texts, Edited with Translations

3.  The Tale of Sinuhe translated by R.B. Parkinson

4.  Egyptian Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Goddesses, and Traditions of Ancient Egypt
5.  The Book of Deeds of Arms and of Chivalry: by Christine de Pizan
6.  The time to read them all.

All About People

Toward the end of my time as an Evangelical, there came to be a strong trend toward treating church members like consumers.  Surveys, consultants, long deacon meetings, new policies, changes in everything from nursery decor to preaching style took over the life of the church.  Willow Creek was in full scream.  It was all about people, the people in the pews and the people you hoped to get in the pews.

All this focus on me, me, me, didn't make me feel cared about.  I long for the immovable in my faith, and at that moment everything was negotiable, even the theological identities that had originally defined each body of believers.  We were all going to community churches for a while there.  It still feels odd to see a trendy church with a traditional identifier like Baptist.  All the trends were worthy of trying, and ears hearing the gospel because the snacks are good--I have to say it worked for my father.

The problem is by focusing the church on the "seeker" the focus is on the least holy, wise, experienced person, and letting their lack guide the church's abundance.  I believe in the communion of saints, so for me there is no idolatry in turning to the holiest, wisest and most experienced part of the body for advice and direction.  There is an optimism about human potential in Christ that is expressed by believing in the saints that is lost in some Christian communities.  Conversion is less of a beginning and more of a simple membership.

Yesterday during Religious Education, we focused on the saints, exploring the ancient past and the surprising present in books, online, and with a game.  It was so exciting to discover what God had accomplished through all these believers, and to talk about the good they can accomplish in our lives.  I've always longed for older siblings and here in my faith I have thousands.

I Kissed Veritas Press

And I liked it, though I think they'd prefer I kiss dating goodbye. Veritas Press makes me so mad I border on apoplectic, and then they meet my needs so perfectly I can't help but be grateful.  It's a complicated relationship and has inspired many posts that were never posted--posts like "A Boy's Best Slave Is His Mother."  It started with the beautiful timeline cards they offer with their elementary level history program, but then there was day after day of racist and chauvinist content.  I was so glad to find Susan Wise Bauer and I promised myself I'd never look back.  Then there was the Omnibus.  Mea had finished The Story of the World Series, and I wanted her to take on something stronger but still classical.  Veritas had a beautiful book, the Omnibus with great readings and artwork, so I bought it.  It was a fine reading list and a beautiful book, but the racism and chauvinism pushed me to bench it on the bookshelf while we turned to The Great Courses for help interpreting the readings in a more balanced way.

I thought I was done with Veritas Press.  The very offensive catalogs had quit coming and I thought we were done.  Then I tried to teach Jimmy to read.  Our tried and true phonics program was a complete non-starter.  I had to find something else, and it had to have high interest and short work 
times.  I looked through many curriculums, and chose Teach Your Child To Read In 100 Easy Lessons.  I was afraid that might be too gimmicky and short on content, so I went back through everything, and realized I needed to look at Veritas Press again.  We spent a week this summer in Washington, DC going through many museums, and we had all enjoyed it.  The Phonics Museum recreates and uses the museum-going experience to ramp up the fun factor in learning how to read.  Instead of cartoony pictures of apples, master artworks by greats like Van Gogh and Degas are used for the ABC cards.  There's a great story about a knight and a little boy (I know) exploring a museum and finding the sounds, and a cardboard museum in which to hang the paintings and paper dolls to wander the museum.  It is perfect for Jimmy, and from the moment the box arrived in the mail, he has been excited about playing with it.  There are still moments when I step back and say, "Really?"  For example, the icon on the worksheets for man is a turn-of-the-last-century boxer--really, this is the sum of a man?  There are so many wonderful things about men that that icon leaves out, and there are so few things about boxers worth keeping in.

Nevertheless, long and the short of it.  I like the Phonics Museum, and more importantly, so does Jimmy.

Waste Line

People in my family understood hunger personally.  Stories of a foster family that fed my great-grandfather rather indifferently with lard or whatever was at hand.  My grandfather ate after his father and older brothers were through.  Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes were the menu for everyone when the Celanese laid people off.  For our family it was the forlorn can of beets my mother bought, but no one wanted to eat--for one reason, who eats beets? For the other, when the beets came out, we knew the cupboard was empty.  They didn't come out often, but not knowing what's next makes a strong impression.  

I tried to make sure that calories didn't go to waste.  I ate up leftovers.  Cheap was good, even if it wasn't good--take non-cheese cheese.  To this day I love Ramen noodles.  Rice, pasta, potatoes stretched the family food budget.  I didn't like beef, because the cuts we could afford took forever to chew.  When Kurt and I married, I told him I defined rich as being able to put whatever I want to eat in the grocery cart without having to think twice at the register.  He had us rich as Croesus in two years.  

I find such pleasure in feeding my kids.  It's the same pleasure my grandparents took in feeding me.  

During the holidays I like to offer all our favorite things in abundance.  I like for our storage shelves to be open and full.  If you can open the fridge you are allowed to peruse it's contents and choose a snack.  The catch 22 is that calories are always on the verge of being wasted, and I save them, literally, on my waistline.  Throwing away food always feels so fancy-fine and ladeedah.  I've learned to give it the Kurt test.  If he'd pitch it then it ought to be pitched.  I keep trying to find the right quantities of food, but shopping at Sam's Club and the kid's fickle tastes don't make that easy.  Some things seem to live on our shelves forever.  I was so grateful when young friends were excited about the granola bars my kids had lost interest in several months back. Some day I will figure it all out, but for the moment I keep buying cookbooks for two, looking forward to the day when things will be manageable again.

Bunny Tree

When Kurt and I were pretty sure we were getting married, I gave him a teddy bear with huge feet.  The plan was to replace the bear with babies with big feet.  As the babies began to arrive their feet weren't fat and round, they were long and skinny--bunny feet.  Like all good moms, I collected stories to read to them that shored up their sense of unconditional love, Runaway Bunny was a natural addition. 

It's that time when good bunnies get ready to run.  I am watching as each one gathers up tools, and ideas, and love to use as they face the world.  My job is to stay out of the way and to refrain from locking them in any closets.  I've decided I'm the bunny tree, and I will wait for them to fly home--when they're ready.

Baby Blue

We took Mea on her last college visit to her most likely school, The University of Michigan.  We enjoyed the talk and tour, as they stirred up many memories for Kurt who is a loyal alum.  I wished, again, that I'd defied parental guidance and joined Kurt there, but then the loss of my scholarship would have been expensive.  College these days is too expensive.  Minds need to be fed, no matter their income.  I guess with that problem you start with preschool and work your way up.  

In any case I was proud of our girl.  The Wolverines will be very lucky to have her.

Puzzled

One time I was on something like a retreat that was supposed to be relaxing.  Activities of many kinds were everywhere including a table full of puzzles.  Now you need to know this was a low budget operation so the puzzles were missing many pieces.  There were at least four started and scattered around the table, and two of the box tops with the full picture were missing.  Trying to sort that out was impossible and the opposite of relaxing.

Today I thought, "I don't understand myself at all."  It's the most hope I've had for growing up in a long time.  When I think I understand something I can always pick out the next step, but what I pick is tainted by my flaws and wrong desires.  If I finally get it, that I don't get me, I might be able to get out of the way and let God have control.  I might grow up.  What an exciting day in a confusing life.  I don't need the box top with the full picture.  I need to trust his hands.

He knocked me up

every time I asked him to
He dealt with the fall out and the frequent flyer smiles.
I love him.
He gave me them.

Mummy

This is our third trip through the ancients.  Mummifying a chicken has been on the activity list every time.  My older girls are more squeamish, and they vetoed it both times.  My younger three are more adventuresome, so we are mummifying a chicken.  I am thrilled because anything that brings history to life so vividly is my idea of good teaching.  This also is major bragging right as we'll be working on The Book of the Dead.  Learning the curse for the spirit that swallowed an ass is worth the price of admission right there.  Homeschooling is the best.

To Plight My Troth

All this work with ancient literature has reminded of another time I stood up for the seemingly antiquated when I insisted on the ancient language of the marriage ceremony.  I wanted to incorporate the courage and wisdom of those words into our new life.  Our pastor called us in for a special discussion about that, and his feeling that modern people understood ancient liturgy in ways that seemed to allow loop-holes in the marriage contract.  He started to deliver a lengthy explanation about why he was going to insist on the modern version when he began to notice the lock step my fiancée and I were in about the permanence of marriage.  Every question, he found not only our answers acceptable, but also our attitudes.  So with the occasional halt and stumble he married us, with as ancient a liturgy as was acceptable to our community.

Marriage is long.  Covenants stretch thin along with our resources, and there are moments when you look at each other and ask are you still in?  Like everybody we've been through a lot,and last year we both felt wobbly.  Fearfully, I looked to him and asked "Are you still up for this?"  His face furrowed as he asked, "Are you?"  I cannot describe the relief to both of us when the answer from both was yes.  We're still at it.  No one is looking for loopholes.  Things can be tough, but it's still better together.  I still love him best.  In some ways that moment was better than our wedding day.

Aural Sedative

I heard this wonderful song on The Folk Sampler last night.  It is by Leslie Eliel, and the title is If Nobody Sees.  It is beautiful to listen to, as well.

I saw you this morning though we did not speak
I watched you ride by looking tired and weak
Your body was saying Can I really go on
And I thought to myself, feeling sadly

I know nothing about you, if you're hungry or fed
If you're living alone or sharing your bed
But I saw that your beauty was hidden by pain
And that no one was there at your side

You thought you were alone as you struggled and tried
Pulling all of your strength from somewhere inside
Though I could not, I wanted to call you by name
And to sing to your heart and your sorrow.

May you always sleep well in a comfortable bed
May you have what you need of money and bread
And may you always have at least one loyal friend
Or a lover who knows when to hold you

May you always feel safe and at peace in your home
May the tears that you share be not always your own
And if you have young children may you always have time
To be with them, or alone, as you want to

And when your time is done on this earth here below
May your body and mind choose the same time to go
May you leave satisfied, knowing you did your best
And if nobody sees that, well I did.

Day and Night

Yesterday, I woke up late and had to start at a run.  It never stopped until I went back to bed.  Today will be just the same.  

This is the best homeschool year yet.  Three seems like a very balanced number of students.  We get so much done together that I won't be changing anything on our lesson plans.  The trouble is I don't even get lunch.  In previous years, there has been a half an hour or so when I supervised but didn't instruct.  This year I'm working with someone from 9:30-3:00.  To get a workout and the elevated endorphins that go with it, I treadmill over lunch. 

We have two major "social" activities each week.  Religious Education at St. Mary's is one of my favorites because it is so easy and the content elevates our hearts.  The LMHSC Muskegon Homeschooling Co-op is also terrific.  My kids enjoy the classes and have a chance to practice useful skills like raising their hand, walking in lines, and changing rooms.  I have the pleasure of teaching subjects I love. For us it is a win-win.  This year co-op has expanded into the afternoon with a 

stronger emphasis on academics, and all the classes co-ordinate around ancient history.  We have Aristotle Leads the Way about ancient scientists.  We have Ancient History-based Writing Lessons, and I am team teaching History through Art and Literature, taking the literature part.

I am up to my armpits in work and people that I love, but I'm going to have to hope I get through lesson prep, reading a Shakespeare play and the Lamb version every week.  I'm also going to be reading and rereading important works of the ancients.  I have to prepare good content after the reading, and there is the physical toll of being present everywhere I'm needed, never mind the housework.  I don't know if I can do all this, but I can try.  It's only everything I ever wanted to do. 

It's my cylinder seal. 

Ready or Not

Tomorrow I start teaching two classes for the LMHSC Muskegon Co-op--Shakespeare and Ancient Literature.  I'm excited and terrified.  I have a degree in English Education and a passion for both subjects, but things atrophy over time and I suspect that without three advanced degrees I would still feel uncomfortable.  The thing I keep reminding myself of is that this class doesn't have to be the last class before they earn a doctorate in the subject.  This class only has to be an enthusiastic introduction of some of my very old friends to some of my new ones.  Wish us luck!

A New Patience

Lord, you have renewed the face of the earth. Your Church throughout the world sings you a new song, announcing your wonders to all. Through a virgin, you have brought forth a new birth in our world; through your miracles, a new power; through your suffering, a new patience; in your resurrection, a new hope, and in your ascension, new majesty.

I found this prayer in the morning while reading of The Divine Office.  It is beautiful as a whole, but I was struck by the phrase "through your suffering, a new patience."  Paired with Grunewald's The Mocking of Christ, new vistas open on Syria, on my personal struggles, on the work of the church and how it is accomplished.  If you've never heard of The Divine Office, you should give it a look.  Here!

The Other Christmas

If you homeschool, preparing for school is a lot like getting ready for Christmas.  Secrets abound, rooms are off limits, lengthy discussions occur about what's festive and what's crazy.  I love it every year.  This year is the best year.

Studying the ancients takes one on a whirlwind tour through cultures and places.  Last year all we needed was a ship for the Age of Exploration, but for the ancients, we needed a Tardis.  Kurt and I had such a good time putting this together for the kids.  It's a huge hit with my most reluctant student asking me to start school half an hour early.

They had 3D Tardis, but it wasn't bigger on the inside. :)

The Dalek is there for motivation.  Motivation he happily supplies

These are the Tardis controls.  We collected them from thrift stores, antique stores, and whatever wasn't currently in use around the house.  Most items are non-functioning.  The drum set works.  Simon works.  We bought a weather station because we are studying weather first trimester.  We attached a holder for the iPad too.

My friend Janet Tyson helped create our Tardis interior.  I told her I wanted it to look like a theremin sounds.  She certainly succeeded.  We attached inflatable planets to the ceiling, but we can't keep the sun inflated.

This is the back of the Tardis controls.  It is also an arts and crafts depot.  My kids are growing up and can be trusted with paint and markers.  Hallelujah!

The time out chair and the Dalek's original home, but I thought it might be overkill.

The bulletin boards/portholes are supposed to have Mesopotamian items on them, but I can't find the timeline I was going to cut them from.  I guess the Tardis portholes are on the fritz until Egypt.

Video equipment for The Great Courses, the kid's books, binders and supplies, white board and storage,  drawers for copies and completed work in need of grading.

We bought this table when our oldest seemed too short for it.  We were right to buy it.  We'd never have seen it again and it cost us next-to-nothing.  We're doing Flannelgraph this year.  The Bible is ancient literature too.

All those book over all those years, they add up.  The planets continue across the ceiling.  My workstation is there in the corner.

Mea made this for the kids to get them to do their work within the time allotted. Everyone who does so gets a sticker to get them closer to the top.  With our fancy Tardis interior we are running out of wall space.

This is the most fun I've had in years.  The Tardis theme makes everything play and exploration.  What a wonderful gift from this other Christmas.

Not My Grandmother's Flannelgraph

Though it is her couch (long story involving six children, general destructiveness and fond memories).  Flannelgraph played an incalculable roll in my spiritual development.  The first time I heard the story of Christ's passion he was hanging from the cross on a deluxe flannel overlay background.  I made my first profession of faith the same day.  Given the choice of with Flannelgraph or without, even hardened teenagers opted for the charming cut out people in their inexplicable worlds and costumes.  Sunday School was the most frequent place for Flannelgraph use. My grandmother was an excellent teacher investing hours of time in her weekly opportunity to change hearts and minds.  She always used the church issued Flannelgraph that was actually flocked paper and sometimes she glued it down because she disliked the interruption to the story telling.

My mother had put off going through Grandmother's Sunday School materials because the items awakened such strong memories.  I came down to go through it with her.  It was inspiring.

My older girls had gone down with me, and on our way home we talked about our family's foray into Flannelgraph.  I bought a complete set of Betty Luken's Bible stories.  That is the crem de la crem of Flannelgraph.  If a woman was heading to the mission field, her friends would go in together to get a set as a parting gift.  The thing is die cut flocked paper is much easier to prep then cutting out hundreds of characters from felt.  The project ate three pairs of scissors before I gave up and let my dramatic personality make up for the lack of figures.

Grandmother's example has me giving it another try, this time with Mea's unexpected help.  We are having a great time trimming and conquering the sheets one herd of camels and many many Jesus' at a time.  I think Grandmother is very proud.

A Mother's Bucket List

A play friend was trying to convince me that being a girl was the worst.  He was getting very frustrated because I was too young to be unhappy about my gender.  Having exhausted all his arguments, he pulled out the big one, the dark secret of womanhood that sealed the horror of my fate. Making sure no grown ups were listening, he leaned in dramatically, "Girls grow up and have the babies."  I double-checked, and as soon as I was certain of what he was saying, I ran off in a rapture to ask Mother if it was true.  Blushing, rubbing her large belly with a loving hand, she confirmed it was true.  I was certain then, and I am certain now, women have the best deal.

I can see the end of my motherhood, and I want to finish strong.  Those childish daydreams of loving my babies deserve fulfillment, and I want my kids to have the deepest sense of being loved that I can provide.  With a project this important it helps to make a list.

1.  Keep the Creator/Redeemer first.  It's tempting to let him slide and the kids creep in, but I'll actually be the best mother with his balance and strength than I will without him.

2.  Love and take care of their dad, whether he likes it or not.  There's only one man in the world who can take full responsibility for my six, and they need him.

3.  Be certain that each one understands that they are so very special and unique.  Don't ever let a root of bitterness get planted between them.  Keep everyone safe and happy by loving each one equally, and teaching them to love one another dearly.

4.  Make cookies.  A little homemade love goes a long way.

5.  Have something else to do with yourself when it's time to release them into adulthood.

6.  Don't lighten up until the last one crosses the finish line.

7.  Be grateful as things get easier.  Don't cry about the right and inevitable events of parenting.

A Resting Place

1. My faith has found a resting place,
   Not in device or creed;
   I trust the ever-living One,
   His wounds for me shall plead.
   • Refrain:
     I need no other argument,
     I need no other plea,
     It is enough that Jesus died,
     And that He died for me.
2. Enough for me that Jesus saves,
   This ends my fear and doubt;
   A sinful soul I came to Him,
   He’ll never cast me out.
3. My heart is leaning on the Word,
   The living Word of God,
   Salvation by my Savior’s name,
   Salvation through His blood.
4. My great physician heals the sick,
   The lost He came to save;
   For me His precious blood He shed,
   For me His life He gave.
   
   

By Eliza E. Hewitt and Jan Van Eyck

The Shepherd's fish

Getting The Shepherd's fish started was such a whirlwind that I neglected to mention it until now.  I'm working with seven friends all of us sharing our faith journeys.  I had high hopes for the blog when it started because I know my friends and how wise, loving and funny they are.  The reality surpasses my hopes every day.  Things I never knew about them, wisdom and rebuke, hope and poetry, The Shepherd's fish has it all.  Do what I do.  I roll out of bed, say my prayers and then check to see what's new.  You'll be glad you did.

Doctor Who Decor

Decorating for school is so much fun.  I've done all kinds of things.  Last year it was a pirate ship for the age of exploration.  Stepping into the period every day was very helpful in feeling a part of things.  This year I want them to soak in the ancients.  We're looking at the period through history, art and literature.  Last time we studied the ancients I put up a bulletin board about Egypt, and that was it.  The trouble with the ancients is how distinct each group is from the others.  I could recreate a ziggurat, but it'd be obsolete as soon as we moved on to Egypt.  That many costume changes for one classroom seems exhausting.  We went to see The Wolverine today, anyone who knows Kurt knows that was a must, and they were selling Dalek cutouts.  It hit me.  We are time travelers this year.  The classroom is our Tardis.  They do sell Tardis cut outs.  If I really get crazy I might try to work out some kind of teal and orange scheme.  Maybe we could get a bunch of thrift store junk to make our own control panel.  I'll have to do some research, but I'm pretty sure the Doctor will be our companion.

An Interior View

Explaining my conversion to Catholicism isn't easy.  Even trying to express it to the the home crowd, I can never get the right balance.  There is too much.

Protestant Fundamentalism/Evangelicalism is a bookish kind of life.  Dominated (rightly) by the Bible, it comes naturally to hand a book to a friend when you are trying to explain the things that matter to you and that are leading to greater spiritual growth in your life.  There are many terrific books about Catholicism that I could give to Protestant friends, but the responses would range from burning the book to politely allowing it to collect dust.  

I keep looking for books that open windows of understanding on my Catholic beliefs and practices with a simple, open-handed honesty that allows the reader to take it or leave it.  My sponsor Jane handed me the first book of this type at my Confirmation--Catholic and Christian. I have finally found a second.

My Life with the Saints tackles the very sticky wicket, the communion of the saints.  I remember discussing my prayer life with a Protestant friend who suddenly gasped and said, "You don't pray to Mary, do you?"  For the record, yes, I do.  For some of my friends that is inconceivable.  For them that means I worship the saints.  For the record, no, I don't.

Understanding how Catholics really think about the saints could be truly helpful in understanding this surprising and important part of Catholic life.  To James Martin, S.J., the saints are our models, intercessors, and friends.  He opens up the intertwining of his life with the lives of the saints, spreading all his inner thinking out for the world to see--including my Protestant friends.  The work of the saints is there to be seen in abundance, but I'm afraid evidence of idolatry is clearly lacking.

You can't convince the hard-hearted of anything, but for those who would truly like to understand their brothers and sisters a little better, this book could be helpful.

Conquering Crabs

It was another day of keeping Jimmy quiet.  We did pretty well, and so did his foot.  Our favorite maneuver was going to Charleston Crab House where Blue Crabs are in season.  We'd planned to get them in Maryland, but we had overestimated our ability to pack things in.  Finding crabs on the menu here was a great treat.  My children finally got to experience the sweet taste of Blue Crabs, and the intricacies of picking out the meat.  I'd hoped to do this in a backyard on a newspaper covered table, and to have them seasoned with Old Bay instead of garlic, but who cares about details. Mea's seventeen and nearly launched and this was her first experience with blue crab.  It was a delightful surprise in a long day.

A Moment's Peace

We park right by this little table every day, but I didn't notice it until now.  It's just the sort of place where I like to work.  The cicadas are in full song, and light has grown dim.  This is the kind of moment you always hope for, but find it hard to arrange.  We made it to the beach.  Jimmy had his super glue, his band aids and his water shoes, and at first he was too wrapped up in his sand castle to go in the water.  The siren song caught his ear at last and his daddy took him out on his hip.  He seemed to be fine, but after a few minutes at home his wound was open again.  He'll be staying home and taking it easy away from the beach from now on.  In a show of solidarity all the young ones and menfolk went to see Monsters Inc 2.  We women went out, shopping the stores downtown, and made a brief stop at Barnes and Noble.  My idea journal has disappeared and I needed to replace it.  I don't know if I'll be able to recreate all the ideas I had for three different novels, poetry, and blogs, but I have to try.  It might have to wait for home where I can find a moment's peace.

For now it's a comfort to know we are all working together to help Jimmy.  Sometimes the best peace is in a crowded living room watching mind-numbing cartoons with a foot in your lap.

Rest

Today was the beginning of the lay-on-the-beach portion of the trip.  I didn't even make it to the beach.  Jimmy's stitches meant he couldn't swim, and that he was sleepy, so we slept in, way in.  When the crew got back from the beach, they switched gears and Kurt talked me into another nap.  Dinner was quick and easy bacon and eggs.  Mea and I went to a 7:00 PM mass.  The deal is whoever goes to mass gets ice cream.  Ye Olde Ice Cream Store had some good stuff.  Uncle Doctor Peter came over to set Jimmy up with a super glue conversion on his stitches so that he can swim tomorrow.  My rest seems to be over.

Music to Speed Us on Our Way

A playlist is a very personal thing, but we are really loving the mix of music from family history that is providing the soundtrack for our journey.  There is something for everyone, from baby songs to romantic tunes.  The miles are sliding by.  I'm still grinning about singing My Love with my two oldest girls.  Take a peek.

Let There Be Peace.                      African Children's Choir

Fish Heads.                                    Barnes and Barnes

Morning Has Broken.                     Art Garfunkel/Diane Krall

Help.                                              Beatles

Paperback Writer

The River of Dreams.                      Billy Joel
Let Me Call You Sweetheart.  (2)        Bing Crosby

Do You Want to Dance?                 Bobby Freeman

The Ugly Bug Ball.                          Burl Ives

On the Front Porch 

Bad Day.                                         Daniel Powter

Volare.                                            Dean Martin

Everybody Loves Somebody (3)

Don't Bring Me Down.                     Electric Light Orchestra

Can You Feel the Love Tonight?     Elton John

Next to Me.                                     Emeli Sande
When Irish Eyes Are Smiling. (4)        Foster and Allen

Pumped Up Kicks.                          Foster the People

Straighten Up and Fly Right.            Linda Ronstadt

I've Got a Crush On You

I Love you For Sentimental Reasons

U Can't Touch This.                         M.C. Hammer

A-You're Adorable.       (1)                  Perry Como

You'll Be in My Heart.                      Phil Collins

My Love.                                         Petula Clark

Only You (and You Alone).   (5)            The Platters

Crazy Little Thing Called Love.        Queen

Stand.                                              REM

Bless the Broken Road.                   Rascal Flatts

That Where I Am...                           Rich Mullens

You Send Me.    (6)                              Sam Cooke

Skinamarink.                                    Sara Newman

You're Still the One.                         Shania Twain

The 59th St. Bridge Song.                Simon/Garfunkel 

Scarborough Fair

The Wind.                                        Zac Brown Band

Toes

Zig Zag Dance.                                 Sesame Street

Nearly Missed

Just Happy to Be Me

Caribbean Amphibian

One Small Voice

Take Me Home, Country Roads.       John Denver

Thank God, I'm a Country Boy.

Tennessee Waltz.                              Patti Page

Born to Be Wild.                                Steppenwolf

Living on a Prayer.                             Bon Jovi

Pocketful of Sunshine.                       Natasha Bedingfield

Radioactive.                                      Imagine Dragons

You Got It.                                         Roy Orbison

Scissors are evil.

I came down this morning to settle a breakfast food dispute and I looked down to find my son's foot covered in blood.  He'd stabbed it, by somehow kicking the scissors that his sister had brought for paper crafts.  Our plan to visit the National Aquarium was gone in an instant and instead he went to the hospital for stitches and then spent the afternoon sleeping on the couch.  So as not to waste the entire day we went to see Despicable Me 2.  Everyone loved it, and we had accomplished a lot of good things done with our unexpected day at home.  I'd rather we'd forgotten the scissors.

A Capitol Fourth

We really had a good time at the national Museum of the American Indian.  It was the most child friendly without compromising the quality of the exhibits.

There are certain things you want to for your children, and seeing the Capitol fireworks was high on my list.  We had a great time and got really cozy on our spot in the grass.  The show goes on and on.  The kids were in awe, and it was just the way I hoped it would be.

Love & Pizza

We spent most of the day at The National Museum of American History.  We saw a lot of great stuff, but my favorite was Julia Child's Kitchen.

I remember walking under this whale years ago thinking about how much more fun this was going to be with my kids.  I was so right.

I was missing Mama Mia's in Spring Lake, so we decided to pick up pizza on the way home.  H & Pizza was amazing offering artisan pizza I'm going to run by Mama Mia's.  you know it's good when you order gourmet pizza and your kids polish it off easy.

Spaced

The National Air and Space Museum is the museum I know best.  Every time we came to DC when I was a kid we stopped there.  When I was older my job as a day camp counselor required me to chaperone fifteen, four and five year olds throughout the building every summer.  Kurt and I came here when we were dating.  It is a place that stirs a deep nostalgia.  Watching my own kids dashing about from exhibit to exhibit, I remembered how crazy it was with my little campers, and I felt over-prepared for this moment.  We did very well, until we left.  The door closed behind me and I did a head count and Iris was missing.  Kurt took charge while I jumped through security hoops.  I looked everywhere for her neon green shirt, and finally headed to the security desk.  As soon as I opened my mouth she came dashing around the counter, and we both were close to tears.  We spent the rest of the day hand in hand, and going out again wasn't very interesting.  We'd had all the space we could handle.

Beastly Day

The National Zoo is always a good time.  It rained off and on all day, but we still got to see all the reptiles, amphibians, and pandas.  The family whistles were great, and the backpacks were helpful.

We enjoy the two sisters on DC Cupcakes, so we had to try some.  They are beautiful and beautifully packaged.  The variety they offer is amazing.

We were supposed to go to the Library of Congress, but no one wanted to go other than me.  Since I took a three hour nap when we got home I can't complain.