Gold

There is something about an old friend that can't ever be replaced. I went home two kids ago for a school reunion and found that I felt more connected with people who'd been rivals than I did to those who'd been my friends--depending on the length of time I'd known them. Evidently I'm the kind who prefers old enemies to new friends. This makes all the moving around I've done lonely.
The big thrill though, is seeing old friends in a new context. Recently God blessed me with two separate visits from friends Kurt and I used to double date with. Heather Rager Bowman was the valedictorian and I was the salutatorian of our class in highschool. She married a technical guy and they have six kids too. It was such fun to fill the house with our offspring, and to catch up on life. I was hoping she'd be moving here, but the Lord has other plans.
Scott Bashoor and his bride Heidi were here just last Friday. We hadn't been able to attend the California wedding, so it was my first chance to meet Heidi. She was worth the wait. I haven't had that much fun in a while. They are expecting their first baby six months from now. Scott was one of our groomsmen, so it was fun to pull out our newly acquired wedding photos for Heidi. Scott hasn't changed a bit--except for the mustache. :)

15 Years and Counting

I love celebrating special occasions, but usually I'm the one doing the planning. This year was a major anniversary, so Kurt had done some planning of his own. He set the tone when he bought me a new wedding band. He tricked me into revealing which one I really liked and then he bought it. I didn't know how to keep up with that, so I found the photographer from our wedding, even though he'd gone out of business. I bought all the negatives and proofs. If the local photo place hurries up, I'll have some special pictures for Kurt's desks both here and at work. Kurt's birthday was our next holiday and I took him to the hot tub place. We hadn't been before--it was great.
Kurt's mom agreed to watch the kids for the weekend. The Amway Grand Plaza is as wonderful as everyone says it is. We felt so completely at home. Friday, we went ethnic eating at El Burrito Loco and Sami's Gyro. Everything was good. The Proposal was a fun film, but never really hit the sweet spot. We thought we'd watch an outdoor concert at Rosa Park's Circle, but a light drizzle turned into a downpour and running for it was our only option. Getting a manicure to show off my new ring had been the one important thing I hadn't been able to squeeze into my preparations. Since we had nothing better to do, Kurt sat with me as I got a full mani/pedi. Chocolate covered strawberries and sparkling juice were waiting in our room. Saturday, we slept in, then room service brought us a delicious breakfast. We hurried over to the Cathedral of St. Andrew to attend the midday mass. I'd never been to the cathedral, so I asked the priest to let us look around. We had to hurry because of a wedding--how perfect--but the cathedral is absolutely beautiful. As an artist I find so much support in the Catholic tradition. Our next stop was the Grand Rapids Art Museum. Our last visit was during our engagement. The collection was rather limited then, so we hadn't been back. This visit we were pleased to find the collection much improved and the new building is nice as well. They had great gifts for the kids, and then I needed to sit. I wanted to look cute on this mini-honeymoon and cute hurts. Kurt said to eat light, so we snagged a hot dog and some water for lunch. After a rest stop at the hotel, we went to Kurt's surprise destination--Charley's Crab. We'd last visited them on our fifth anniversary and it was the perfect moment to return. I had their excellent bouillabaisse with saffron. It was delicious and a little messy, but nothing a girl from Maryland couldn't handle. The rest of the evening we spent in the hotel's hot tub with a bunch of sisters from a family of eight. I had a lot of fun exploring their memories of growing up. Kurt alternated soaking with me and swimming laps in the adjacent pool. Our return to our room found more chocolate covered strawberries and sparkling juice and we were lucky to catch The Pursuit of Happyness on cable. Sunday we slept in, again, enjoyed room service, again, and finally prepared to return to home and the kids. A few ordinary errands had to be run, and then we were back to pick up the threads of our daily lives.
It was all just right, one of those rare moments when I wouldn't change a thing.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

The British Museum is magnificent. The treasures it contains are enough to make even newlyweds catch their breath and think of something other than themselves for a minute. One of my favorite things were the giant Assyrian sculptures. For a person who knew the Bible, particularly the prophetic bits, inside and out it was like stepping into the past. The experience took my breath away. I only wish I'd had the guts to touch it. I love museums, and after a while they take on a rhythm that includes a tour of some piece or other of all the major civilizations. I just took this for granted, because I love history and I don't expect I'll ever be able to travel to all those places to see things for myself.
Then I watched Rick Steve's Iran. He went to the major museum in Tehran and the collection of antiquities from the home of one of the greatest ancient civilizations is filled with little pots and small artifacts. Why don't they have any great displays like the British Museum? All that stuff is at the British Museum and other important museums around the world. The visit to Persepolis made me feel a little better, but not much. What have we done stripping struggling communities of their heritage?
Isn't it time for antiquities to be returned to the places of origin? Ok, so that's an idea before it's time, but we should at least begin thinking and talking about it. Someday the global community will think of itself in neighborly terms. Hopefully the oil crisis will have pushed us to discover better and cheaper modes of transportation that will allow more people to travel and thus make seeing items in their native habitat an attractive idea. Perhaps returning that borrowed sculpture will finally make enough of an impact on our conscience. Maybe it will also help us to appreciate our own native cultures and their part in our history. It's just a thought.

To Watch or Not To Watch

I enjoy 18 Kids and Counting. I understand the passion for family that drives them and it's a great relief to me that there is a family in the world so much larger than mine. I also knew so many people in the same kind of mindset growing up. They are a bit right of where I grew up, but we had friends all over the spectrum. One summer we traveled the mid-west with a Christian acting troupe that had ties to Bob Jones University. I wore skirts for everything that summer and all the older ladies dressed just the way the Duggers do. It's fun to be reminded of the quirks and the genuine warmth of fundamentalism.
I have my favorite Dugger. I will not be revealing her, but sometimes when she's on screen you can almost watch her thinking. I wonder what she thinks about. She's always quick to express the appropriate fundamentalist thought, and I wouldn't expect anything else. If you genuinely believe that your behavior and beliefs can save someone from eternal damnation what kind of a jerk do you have to be not to uphold your truth at all times. "Of course I am happy." "Of course this is how we live our lives." "Of course this is better than that." But what if she's wondering? what if she's looking at other options? Am I doing the right thing by participating in the pressure that keeps her smiling and agreeing?
Not that you need a camera in your face to keep nodding and smiling. For me it was enough to go to church and church school. I kept withdrawing step by step until I finally found a place quiet enough to let me think and decide for myself. I want that piece of mind for my favorite Dugger, even if she stays fundamentalist all her life. Children shouldn't be subject to this kind of scrutiny. Just look at Jon and Kate plus Eight.

Tea Time

When my girls were born I bought them each a flower of the month tea cup that we use for little tea parties and that is theirs to take to their new home when they move out. I still haven't decided what to do for the boys. My favorite plan is to wait and see who they marry and then buy the teacups then. The only hitch is Royal Albert doesn't seem to be making them anymore. Let's hope enough survive for Ebay to supply my need.
I've made a new friend and she has three daughters about the same ages as my girls. We try to get them together once a month or so, and I had the crazy idea of throwing a tea party. Marlene liked the idea as much as I did so we were off. The girls did a surprising amount of the planning, esp. the games. We moms really only had to deal with food. Some things were difficult because of one party-goers multiple food allergies, but that just made it fun. I wanted everyone to have a real teacup, so I went to multiple thrift stores and found them quite inexpensively. I recommend it because it does make them feel so grown up. I offered apple juice (we were a little dressed up), black tea and raspberry tea. Out of the thirteen children served, raspberry tea was the clear winner with 10 children choosing it.
We had our craft table under a fairy tent. Marlene is an artist and her fairy people craft was a huge hit. My girls are still making fairies. The tent captured their imaginations so they stayed under there longer than expected. They finally came up for charades. I'm forgetting the spider web game that they played at the beginning for an ice breaker. It's become a bit of a lovely blur. They ate proper tea sandwiches with a amazing relish--empty platters. Marlene was up again with decorating desert. We had tiny cupcakes and ice cream cones. Everyone did such a great job.
All in all, a great experience and not overwhelming when you share the work with a friend.

St. Zita's Day

Sometimes I'm glad I didn't know the orthodox way of doing things as a Catholic before I do them. I chose my patron saint even before my conversion, or maybe she chose me. I discovered her story in a rather awful book I picked up at random from the local library--The Birthday Book of Saints. My personal ideal of the ultimate Christian at that time was someone who could arrive at heaven and be thrilled to discover their eternal vocation was scrubbing toilets. St. Zita seemed to be that kind of person, and I was drawn to finding out more about her.
Her family were all very holy people but poor, so they sent Zita to work for a wealthy family around the age of 12. It was a volatile household and the older servants picked on her. St. Zita used all of these experiences to help her grow in holiness. She loved to attend mass and went every day. There are numerous miracle stories about her that usually involve her giving away something of value to the poor and then being rescued from her master's wrath by divine intervention. By the time of her death she was running the household and the family had been deeply converted by her example. Her body is on display in the Cathedral at Lucca, Italy. She is an incorruptible, meaning her body has not decayed despite the 737 years since her death.

Cathedral

strung like paper dolls
round the sacred space
tear apart the hands
tape me into Grace