Whistling in the Dark

New Site

2010-06-21T05:28:00.001-07:00

Hey, you guys...just in case anyone ever wanders onto this blog anymore, I've taken things in a new direction over at www.sobeloved.wordpress.com. Hope to see you there! :)

New Additions

2010-02-18T05:44:00.000-08:00

I've been MIA for a while, but with good reason -- we've had a few changes around the Lambert house. We have a newly painted dining room (in the beautiful Apple-a-Day red), a new table in the dining room, a completely cleaned-out garage (in hopes of morphing it into what my dad refers to as a 'man-cave'), and a brand-new teenager living upstairs in the bonus room.
As a friend of mine said, "Congrats! It's a 16 year old!"
Ha ha ha.
Seriously, though, my sister has moved in with us until she finishes up her diploma...and we're having fun. Hannah is forcing me out of my usual habits of solitude and hermit-ism, which is good for me (I guess!) and I'm forcing her to read short stories and do writing exercises, which is great for her (I know!). And since she isn't a picky eater, I'm getting to try new recipes, which is such a great change after years of eat one bite. Just one bite of the veggies. Please. Please try it. Please eat it. Vegetables make you strong and healthy. Eat it or else. Eat. It. Now. Eat it or you're NEVER EATING COOKIES AGAIN.
And that's just talking to my husband. Don't even get me started on the dinner battles I have with the kids.
As Hannah would say, jk...jk. (Oh, the text-speak. Don't get me started on that, either. [For those of you not living with a teenager, thats 'joking, joking'...])

So, this is to say -- welcome to the chaos, Hannah! <3 you! (She taught me how to do that, too! :) By the time she moves out, I might actually be sort of cool again! Emphasis on the 'might' and the 'sort of''.)

They Say this Guy's Pretty Smart...

2010-01-21T06:40:00.000-08:00

...and I agree. A bit of wisdom from this fella' who seemed to understand that intelligence is nothing without creativity...that life is a balance of faith and fact...that any endeavor, great or small, requires imagination.

"The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift. "

"In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity."

~~Albert Einstein

Watching the Soap-Opera Network for Philosophical Inspiration?

2010-01-18T14:04:00.001-08:00

As you've surely heard, Jack's back. 24 fans everywhere rejoice! Tim and Heidi are again nourishing the dreams of fashion designers and Donald Trump will soon be sending celebrities on scavenger hunts through the city....but it is a lesser known show that has me double-checking times and dates and the TiVo's to-do list.
Being Erica premiered last year on the Soap Opera channel...and though it isn't my usual habit to watch re-runs of Days of Our Lives (Saturday re-runs of 90210 and the O.C. are a different story. A girl has to fold laundry at some point!), I did tune in for this show. The premise caught my eye -- Erica is in her early thirties and she has a mile-long list of regrets up to this point in her life...she's feeling all of those 'what-ifs' and 'should haves' haunting her. Enter Doctor Tom. Dr. Tom is supposed to be a regular old therapist -- but instead of having her talk it all out, he sends her back in time to re-live those regrets. She can change things (barring the general rules of time-travel and wish-granting). She gets a do-over.
Who among us hasn't wished for a do-over once or twice or three thousand times? Wouldn't it be amazing? Well...it is and it isn't for Erica, for lots of reasons I won't get into...but for us, it isn't exactly an option.
We make choices and we're stuck with them...whatever our actions might be, the consequences that follow can't be magically erased. And sometimes, life just...happens. We can't control people getting sick or natural disasters or other people making decisions that hurt us. But we do get to choose how we proceed from that point. Every day that we wake up in this world, we've been given a gift of opportunity...we can take our God-given hours (our God-given mercies) and make something out of them. We can learn from our mistakes and see how that knowledge might help someone in our lives...if we keep our eyes open and our hearts willing to move on and embrace what we have, right at this moment, we can live gracefully with the heart-ache...our regrets and mistakes can make us more concious of our actions. More empathetic. More willing to forgive others. Hopefully, more willing to forgive ourselves (which can be pretty hard to do). And if we allow God to heal those hurts...well, at that point, we can have a real victory. Because He truly can turn what has been bad into something good...He can bring beauty from our ashes. I've seen it happen in my own life and in the lives around me...it may not always be immediately, or show-stopping...but it'll happen, like those first flower-buds finally popping out their gorgeous colors just when you think winter's gonna' last forever...
In short, life isn't perfect. We aren't perfect. It's what we do with those imperfections that counts.
This show is a great reminder of that fact...so, yes. Though it may seem like an oxymoron, I am watching the Soap Network to learn about real life.

One of Those Paradoxes...

2010-01-15T09:20:00.000-08:00

I found this little gem in the middle of Troubling a Star...I'm still soaking it in and I'll leave it for you to consider:

"...until we accept our mortality we cannot even glimpse the wonder of our immortality."
-M. L'Engle

A big thought, isn't it?

Christmas Miracle

2010-01-14T07:23:00.000-08:00

So if you've read through any portion of this blog, you know that my favorite writer is Madeleine L'Engle...her imagination is amazing and her faith inspiring. Whether it's her fiction for kids, adults, poetry, personal memoirs, advice on the writing craft, thoughts on God....whatever the subject, she writes with a clarity and purity that gets to the heart of the story. Her novels make me want to read to the last page and go pick up my own notebook and pen...and it's one of my life's goals to own every book written by her. I currently own 15 of about 60....and the latest addition to my collection was a Christmas gift from my parents....The Rock that Is Higher: Story as Truth. I've been reading it slowly in order to savor it...and imagine my delight (by delight, I mean a squealing, jumping-up-and-down, 5 year old on Christmas morning kind of joy) when I randomly flipped to the title page the other day and saw....HER SIGNATURE. The loopy, unmistakable handwriting is RIGHT THERE (For Megs, & her story - Madeleine L'Engle)...which means that this book in my hands was once in hers....that somehow, through what I can only attribute to a miracle, I own a signed copy of a Madeleine L'Engle book. Which may not be a big thing to most people, but it's a huge thing for me. The funny thing is that my mom didn't even realize that she had bought a signed edition -- she just followed my instructions to buy any books from Better World Books (you should, too! this is proof that buying used books is like treasure-hunting!) and randomly picked this particular book (the notes from the seller never mentioned the signature -- maybe it somehow slid by them, too!)...so I now have this small connection to a woman that, through her work, has become a cherished mentor-ish figure to me...and I think it's one of those small things that she would have smiled about.

If you look here, you'll read the story of another of Madeleine's fans and her signature...and you'll read an excerpt that shows what Madeleine thought about the importance of a name...

Prose from Picasso

2010-01-06T19:07:00.000-08:00

"Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth."
~Picasso

Which makes me think of a big point that M. L'Engle makes in her book that I'm reading right now (The Rock that is Higher: Story as Truth)...facts do not always make the truth. Facts can be solid and seem logical, but they do not always take into account the heart or the eternal picture or the knowledge that nothing is impossible to those who believe...which leads to faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen....which leads to hold on. The truth is, in spite of the facts, that the best is yet to come. Events and people and love can unfold like you've never seen, like you've never imagined...God can do above and exceedingly beyond what we can even think to ask...He is art and truth and His creativity is limitless.

A Thought On Dreams

2010-01-04T18:19:00.000-08:00

"I think a life of wishes, once we are adults, is no life at all. It is one thing, as children, when we are powerless, to turn to stars and wishbones and candles on a cake to make our dreams come true. But as adults, we need none of that. We can take charge of our dreams -- if we dare."
-Barbara Lazear Ascher
----"On Passion," in The Habit of Loving

The Rise and Fall of the Berlin Wall

2010-01-01T13:37:00.000-08:00

2010. I'm looking into the new year and there's a lot I'm hoping to see happen...there are high stakes ahead.
And I can't stop thinking about this documentary I watched the other day...it was all about the Berlin Wall -- the timeline of its creation and of its destruction. It was fascinating to hear about the people who watched this huge barricade appearing...day by day, they were either being shut in or shut out even more. They watched their home become a prison. At first, they could still see through to other side -- waving at old friends or loved ones...but, eventually, there was nothing to be seen but armed guards and ugly walls.
Oddly, this strange historical story makes me think of someone in my life. There's a person who is dear to my heart and this person is going through an addiction of sorts...and as the days go by, it feels like more and more cement is poured and barbed wire added to the wall already between us. We can still wave -- we can still hear each other -- but it's getting more and more difficult. And I'm so afraid that one day I'll wake up and find that the barricade is too high, that I won't be able to get through without underground tunnels and the speed to dodge bullets...in the meantime, all I can do is wait. Wait and send notes to the other side so that they'll know I'm still here. Still waiting.
I'm not sure why I'm writing about this here...except that, maybe, I never before knew how lonely it is to watch someone isolate themselves like this. I never knew the helpless feeling...the chronic worry and pain....and if you happen to be reading this and you have your own Berlin Wall going on...just know that you're not alone. You're not alone in the waiting for...I don't know....healing, peace, a miracle....and if there's any resolution worth keeping this year, it's to keep hoping. Because, eventually, the Berlin Wall came tumbling down....with all of my heart, I'm waiting to see the walls in my life fall...and I hope that yours do, too.

Ideas for Your 2010 (music & books I fell in love with during 2009!)

2009-12-31T10:41:00.000-08:00

If you're fortunate, you've already experienced the talents of these authors and musicians that occupied my brain space during '09....and if you haven't, you have something to look forward to!

These are my favorite discoveries of 2009...

The novels of Marisa de los Santos . Love Walked In and Belong to Me are heartwarming, unique stories of families...Marisa does an amazing job with her characters. They're genuine, real people -- people I'd love to know in real life.

I read sixteen novels by Elizabeth Berg this year. Sixteen. You can safely assume that she's amazing. Her novels are full of life -- family, friendship, the art of appreciating the small moments of a day. I'm in the middle of her book of writing advice, called Escape into the Open: the Art of Writing True. If you have any inclination to write, it's a must-read. It's friendly and encouraging -- and contains great writing exercises.

Sing Them Home, by Stephanie Kallos, is a novel about missing people. It's about how absences affect us, how our heritage affects us...it's beautiful, really. I can't wait to read her other novel, Broken for You. It's on my list for the new year!

I'm not usually a sci-fi reader, but a friend recommended the John Twelve Hawks Traveler series and I was hooked after the first couple of pages...these novels are fast-paced, action-packed, and thought provoking. They make you step back, look at the world, and go -- whoa. There's a grid and we're all on it. It also opens up that realm of parallel-world kind of stuff, which is always fun.

My last stand-out suggestion, even though I can add more if anyone's interested, is Audrey Niffenegger's Her Fearful Symmetry. It's creepy and a little twisted -- the perfect historical/haunted/rainy October kind of book...

And as for music...I've always been a Bethany Joy Galeotti fan and she's part of a group called Everly...they haven't released a full album yet, but I'm eagerly anticipating it...check them out! And, um, this one!

Happy reading!

Advice From Thoreau For The New Year

2009-12-30T18:58:00.000-08:00

"If thou art a writer, write as if thy time were short, for it is indeed short at the longest." -Henry David Thoreau

For That Resolution...

2009-12-29T06:40:00.000-08:00

And Christmas is over...just that fast. I spent the last days before the holiday with a pitiful baby girl - Kailey ended up with a sinus infection. She's finally perking up, but we had a rough few days. We had a good time with our families and we're still having a good time with the presents Santa left beneath the tree. Now I'm trying to make the
most of this vacation from school...and, of course, preparing for the new year.
And here's a bit of child-wisdom for you...
Neil and I were talking about our plans to diet in the new year and Sean piped up with his opinion on the subject. "Everyone's bigger than mouses, so don't panic about your bellies!"
It's really all about perspective, isn't it?

The Night Before the Night Before the Night Before Christmas

2009-12-22T20:06:00.000-08:00

Dec. 22nd. 11:06 pm. Gifts bought? Check. Gifts wrapped? Ummm...half a check. Baked goodies baked? 3/4 of a check. Santa visit/picture successful? Not yet. House cleaned? HA!

It gets here so fast. It's no secret that a sick kid will bring havoc into the best laid plans...and this week has been no exception. Between the frenzy of Christmas plays/school parties/shopping (mostly on-line!) and Kailey being sick all week...well...I'm sort of where I didn't want to be. Exhausted with a to-do list still a mile long...but --

The kids were cute and crazy in their play at church. We've watched Charlie Brown and Home Alone (1&2) and the Grinch...we've eaten a ton of popcorn and sang Christmas carols nonstop...Kailey's learned to say 'Santa' and 'ho ho ho' (followed by exuberant applause)...Neil was awesome in the choir's Christmas service...and, after all is said and done, no matter how busy and tired and nuts this place is -- there is still that abiding truth beneath it all.

EMMANUEL. God is with us.

O Christmas Tree

2009-12-08T16:51:00.000-08:00

As of Friday, the Christmas tree is finally up. We did have a few roadblocks...it was leaning over at a precarious angle, branches kept snapping off, and half of the pre-lit tree wouldn't light, so there was much rearranging and adding of new lights...the star still doesn't work, but it'll stay where it is on top of the tree. Symbolism works just as well without a few bulbs, right? Sean and Christian were more excited than ever to help decorate, so the bottom half of the tree started out as interesting and becomes more Picasso-ish every day with Kailey's adjustments to the ornaments.
I love it when darkness falls outside and inside is full of twinkling, happy lights...there is no cozier feeling than sitting in a warm room with a Christmas tree.
It's one of those particular happy/achy feelings...because it reminds me of all the Christmases past with my family (and, as one song says, I miss them most at Christmas-time), fills me with hope and anticipation that this season will be magic for my kids (and the magic-making falls to Mommy--what a responsibility!), and...just a whoosh of peace that I wish could last forever. It's contentment I feel, with my kids snuggled on the couch (even when they're wrestling, as the boys always are) and the popcorn popping and their wild excitement when Daddy gets home from work...and I know these moments won't last forever. Which makes them even more precious.

Those Christmas Bells

2009-12-03T18:15:00.000-08:00

Simply gorgeous. (Click the title! ;))

A Classic Tale

2009-12-02T13:58:00.000-08:00

"The Gift of the Magi"
by O.Henry

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pierglass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

Oh, Let it Snow!

2009-12-01T11:26:00.000-08:00

Today there was frost on the car! As Sean said - "Jack Frost visited!" I think he did -- just in time to say, "It's the first day of December. Let's get winter-ish."

This poem by Robert Frost is one of my childhood favorites...I love how it conveys that feeling of a peace a snowy day brings...it's that rare feeling of true quiet. A blanket of snow (especially in the South!) forces us to take it easy...to slow down. There's nothing quite like freezing outside while you're throwing snowballs and then sitting inside with hot chocolate and a view of a natural wonderland. I am wishing wishing wishing for snow this Christmas....

"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"

-Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

And in the spirit of wishing, let me introduce you to the wonderful Bing Crosby.

Welcome, December

2009-11-30T14:53:00.001-08:00

This is the season that means the most to me -- and so, every year, I am amazed and a little sad when it zooms by me. It's too easy to get caught up in the preparations of the physical things (the presents, the plays, the cookies, the decorations) that we don't have time for the inside things that give all those other things meaning!
So, in spite of the fact that this blog has been neglected for so long, I'm going to take a little time every day to share my thoughts, my favorite readings, my favorite music....I'm going to take a minute or two to hold onto the essence of this Christmas season.

And what do I love about Christmas? I love everything from Charlie Brown's search for the perfect tree to molasses-spice cookies to that commercial where the M&M and Santa both pass out at the sight of each other....I love the magic of lights gleaming in the darkness and the fun of decorating cookies with the kids....I love the music!....I love finding gifts that will bring smiles to faces of people that I love...I love the old movies and the hope of snow...I love the anticipation....I love going to see Santa and watching kids either freak out or stare in awe....I love all of this and more...
...most of all, I love that this is the season to remember Hope. To me, all of the twinkling lights represent the Light that came to us so long ago....a Light that has neither dimmed nor changed. The world is dark. It's crazy and scary and, more than ever, it's in need of peace....but let this wonderful quote from Madeleine L'Engle remind you:

"His coming to us as a human child, in total weakness, was the greatest act of warfare against the powers of hate and chaos that I know. And if I, too, am to fight in this battle, it is from his weakness that I must draw my strength."

He was meek, humble, and gave Himself for us...he showed us how to love. He gave us reason to hope. He gave us miracles and wonders and a glimpse of God...

This is the irrational season

When love blooms bright and wild.

Had Mary been filled with reason

There'd have been no room for the child.

-M. L'Engle

This is the irrational season, and, oh, how I love not being bound by human limitations and fears!...if ever, this is the time to expect miracles, to plunge into pure faith, to believe in hope and in peace, to give love...to give of yourself...this is the irrational season and you never know when you'll be the light in someone's darkness.

In Lambert-Land

2009-03-14T14:38:00.000-07:00

If I had to use one word to describe my life these days, that word would be: busy. From the moment I get up in the morning until the time I fall asleep at night, there is always something to do. (I’m not talking anything extraordinary here—think laundry and the school pick-up line.) I don’t mind this (usually). I like having my list and marking off what I’ve done…one thing I’ve learned about myself is that I like productivity. I like having a goal and accomplishing it. Feeling aimless makes me anxious and crazy.

But since my free time is limited, I have to choose wisely when filling it. Lately, that has meant this blog has gone untouched. My writing time has been dedicated to the second rewrite of the novel I finished for NaNoWriMo. Since I’m taking some space from it before continuing to the third draft, I’ll have a bit more time to spend here.

Anyway, things have been good. Sean loves kindergarten…it is incredible to watch him learn. He is to the point of reading small books by himself and helping me read our bedtime books…and he is proud of himself when he knows the words. Seeing him proud of himself fills me with such gratitude and joy. His school-journey has begun so positively…and I’m thankful.

Christian is four years old now…he is still silly and compassionate, smart and full of energy…he loves playing pretend and with his Hot Wheels cars. We’re working on all of his pre-k skills…he won’t start school until the 2010 school year, so he’ll definitely be ready for it.

Kailey is nine months old and wonderful. She crawls at rocket-speed and, to date, has six teeth. She loves to play with her big brothers and her daddy…they can make her laugh so hard with their silly faces and voices. I am cherishing these moments with her…her baby-months are flying by and I am doing my best to live and appreciate every minute of them.

So that’s where we are…striving day by day, step by step, to love fully and to be conscious of these fleeting moments.

The Hiding Place

2009-03-12T17:16:00.000-07:00

When I was nine or ten years old, there was a particularly fierce storm system blowing through our area. Tornadoes were a real possibility and after some discussion about the sturdiness of the trailer we lived in, my parents packed up the three of us kids and drove us all down the road to our church.

I remember feeling terrified as we left our home – I had just read Night of the Twisters (not the most comforting book for a skittish kid) and the storm seemed like it was out to get us. It was a relief to get to the safety of the church – I felt better as soon as my dad unlocked the doors and ushered all of us inside the bright foyer.

While my parents and some of my aunts and uncles were in the sanctuary, playing instruments and singing, I sat in the space beneath my Papa’s desk. My dad propped a mattress up against the open side of the desk, creating a little dark cave. I felt safe with my flashlight and a Sweet Valley High book…and ended up sleeping through the rest of the storm.

Nights like these happened fairly often while I was growing up -- when my dad pastored a church on the coast, he’d open up the building for any members who needed a place to stay whenever tropical storms or hurricanes came through. With the wind roaring outside, we’d gather in the fellowship hall and play board games, watch weather reports on a tiny static-filled black and white tv, and talk over the sound of the pouring rain. Even after the electricity went off and we were stifling hot, it felt better to be there in the four walls of the church.

These days, when bad weather arrives, I walk around my house, looking out of the windows every other second and listening to the local news. I don’t get to run to the church or anywhere else. I have to hold my ground and tell my kids that there’s nothing to be afraid of.

But, lately, I am afraid.

While I drink my coffee and feed Kailey her mixed fruit and rice cereal, I turn on the news. I watch for a few minutes, which is long enough to put a lump of dread in my stomach, and change the channel to one of my TiVo’d episodes of The West Wing.

It isn’t just the economy – there are the random shootings, the always-evolving crisis of the Middle East, the shaky health-care system. And we all have our personal worries – car accidents, deaths in our families, illnesses, debt, the safety of our kids.
With all of that in mind, who doesn’t feel like running away to some safe haven? The question is: is there a refuge? Where, in this world of unrest, can we find security?

Looking back, it wasn’t those church buildings that made me feel so safe. It was the time I had spent there, peaceful in the presence of God. It was the word of God, proclaimed from the pulpit, affirming God’s power and sovereignty. It was there, in that church, that I was certain of God’s close proximity. It was there that I was reminded again and again of His love and protection, of the way He always brings good to those who trust Him. When I was hiding beneath my grandfather’s desk, I was really hiding in the shadow of the Almighty, secure under His wings.

Fear is corrosive; it eats away at us, bit by bit, day by day. And fear is sneaking in through the news, through the movies we watch, through the forwards in our in-boxes. It invades our minds and highlights worries…and when it’s there, we get so confused and anxious that we forget to seek shelter. We forget that there is a place of peace in the middle of the chaos…we forget that we do have a place to run. We forget that our trust is in a loving Father. He wants to take the anxiety and the fear from our hearts…He wants us to know that the downward spin life seems to be taking does not shake Him. He is still in control. He is still our refuge.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.”……..”Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.” Psalm 91: 1-2, 14-16

Anti-Scrooge

2008-12-17T18:09:00.000-08:00

Thought I'd share the song that finally kindled the Christmas spirit for me...thanks, Casting Crowns for this awesome version of "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day". Also, I finally heard Faith Hill's "A Baby Changes Everything". Amazing. The lyrics hit home for me. And, last but not least -- my favorite Christmas song performed by David Phelps. This one literally takes my breath away.
Enjoy!

New Story Available at Third Order Magazine

2008-12-15T16:10:00.000-08:00

Head over to Third Order Magazine to read my new short story~~"Sifting Through Ashes". The entire December edition is great -- check it out!

Big Smiles...

2008-12-02T10:53:00.001-08:00

It's slightly bewildering to know that I actually wrote a complete first draft in less than thirty days. I'm glad that I crossed the finish line...but now comes the hard part. Revision.

Treading Water...

2008-11-14T16:20:00.000-08:00

I'm about 20K into the NaNoWriMo challenge...there is also a kindergartner with a stomach virus in the house, a congested three year old, a baby fighting sleep, and a husband fighting off a bad cold...regular blogging should return post-recovery. As soon as I get through that Mt. Everest of sick, germy laundry....

Taking the Plunge

2008-11-03T17:38:00.000-08:00

Do I dare? Do I have the willpower, the determination, the availability? Can I accomplish the marathon of marathons for we writing folk? Can I make it to the finish line for NaNoWrimo 2008?
I have no idea. 50,000 words in thirty days. Except, for me, it would be more like 27 days, since I was in the muck of finishing a short story draft and forgot that it was starting. And once I finished the aforementioned draft and remembered that National Novel Writing month had begun (this morning), I spent all day wracking my brain for the 'perfect' idea. My writing method just isn't a light bulb going off—I don't usually get an 'idea!' It's more like the sense of a place I want to communicate or a particular character who gets into my head or a vague scene or a snatch of dialogue that grabs me. Plot usually unwinds itself with the writing. And I am a slow writer. Ideas sort of sit in the crock pot of my mind for months before developing into actual stories. So all day I've been going over my scattered notes, trying to find that spark of life that pushes my fingers to the keyboard.
Eight hours later, I think I have it. I've never been through Nano before—I'm usually already committed to a project—but this year, I've just finished up a few short story drafts and have been ready to delve into something new...so maybe the timing is right. Even if this idea doesn't turn into the perfect storyline, it's a chance for me to try to write without inhibition—because I revise and edit as I write my first drafts. It's so hard for me to just let it out...but with a deadline, I won't really have the choice of the turtle-route. You learn to write by writing and pushing myself to do this thing will, at the very least, push me out of my comfort zone. Wait. Did I say comfort zone? I meant rut.
So I'm going to try. I feel excited about it--it'll be great to get a solid body of work written in such a short time. It's very likely that I will be disrupted, but trying is better than not trying, right? So here I go...
Good luck to all of the other participants out there stretching those writing muscles!

Post-Halloween Craze

2008-11-02T09:31:00.001-08:00

The spookable holiday was the real deal this year for the kids...even though the trick-or-treating isn't quite like it was when I was a kid, they still had a good time. My favorite moments?
Sean, walking down the street, yelling out "People! Turn on your lights! I want to trick-or-treat!!!" I, of course, immediately told him that it isn't polite to yell out things like that. His response? "But they won't hear me if I whisper!"
Another memorable kid-quote came from Christian, when one of Neil's co-workers took out his gross fake monster teeth...all wide-eyed, Christian said "OH. You have gum disease." Where does my three year old learn about gum disease? I have no idea.
And, of course, the morning after...I found Christian with his candy bag. He had taken all of the suckers out and unwrapped each one, making a small mountain of Blow-Pops and Dum-Dums and Tootsie-pops. I was all, "Christian! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He calmly reached over, picked up a Dum-Dum, and said "Here, Mommy. Try a blue one. They're really good." Like the gum disease has taught him nothing! Geez!
So, fun was had by all...including Kailey, who played the role of the sleeping baby with great skill. Personally, I just love a holiday that gives me permission to dress my kids up in cute costumes, show them off, and pays with bags of treats for me...

Call This My On-Line Wallet...

2008-10-30T17:23:00.001-07:00

Please pardon the interruption in regular blogging as I share Kailey's portraits from last weekend....(thanks, Mom and Dad!)

Hanging Out With The Scarecrow...

2008-10-29T11:17:00.000-07:00

Are we off to see the wizard? Nah...just having a weekend fall-fest at Nana and Papa's house!

FDR Speaking to the Future From the Past

2008-10-21T21:00:00.000-07:00

On any given day, this speech given by Franklin D. Roosevelt is a remarkable one. But in the present atmosphere of our nation, it is amazingly relevant. If only the lessons he said we needed to learn way back then had actually been absorbed for the long haul...

Franklin D. Roosevelt's Inaugural Address on March 4th, 1933:

"I am certain that my fellow Americans expect that on my induction into the Presidency I will address them with a candor and a decision which the present situation of our people impel. This is preeminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance. In every dark hour of our national life a leadership of frankness and vigor has met with that understanding and support of the people themselves which is essential to victory. I am convinced that you will again give that support to leadership in these critical days.
In such a spirit on my part and on yours we face our common difficulties. They concern, thank God, only material things. Values have shrunken to fantastic levels; taxes have risen; our ability to pay has fallen; government of all kinds is faced by serious curtailment of income; the means of exchange are frozen in the currents of trade; the withered leaves of industrial enterprise lie on every side; farmers find no markets for their produce; the savings of many years in thousands of families are gone.
More important, a host of unemployed citizens face the grim problem of existence, and an equally great number toil with little return. Only a foolish optimist can deny the dark realities of the moment.
Yet our distress comes from no failure of substance. We are stricken by no plague of locusts. Compared with the perils which our forefathers conquered because they believed and were not afraid, we have still much to be thankful for. Nature still offers her bounty and human efforts have multiplied it. Plenty is at our doorstep, but a generous use of it languishes in the very sight of the supply. Primarily this is because the rulers of the exchange of mankind’s goods have failed, through their own stubbornness and their own incompetence, have admitted their failure, and abdicated. Practices of the unscrupulous money changers stand indicted in the court of public opinion, rejected by the hearts and minds of men.
True they have tried, but their efforts have been cast in the pattern of an outworn tradition. Faced by failure of credit they have proposed only the lending of more money. Stripped of the lure of profit by which to induce our people to follow their false leadership, they have resorted to exhortations, pleading tearfully for restored confidence. They know only the rules of a generation of self-seekers. They have no vision, and when there is no vision the people perish.
The money changers have fled from their high seats in the temple of our civilization. We may now restore that temple to the ancient truths. The measure of the restoration lies in the extent to which we apply social values more noble than mere monetary profit.
Happiness lies not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort. The joy and moral stimulation of work no longer must be forgotten in the mad chase of evanescent profits. These dark days will be worth all they cost us if they teach us that our true destiny is not to be ministered unto but to minister to ourselves and to our fellow men.
Recognition of the falsity of material wealth as the standard of success goes hand in hand with the abandonment of the false belief that public office and high political position are to be valued only by the standards of pride of place and personal profit; and there must be an end to a conduct in banking and in business which too often has given to a sacred trust the likeness of callous and selfish wrongdoing. Small wonder that confidence languishes, for it thrives only on honesty, on honor, on the sacredness of obligations, on faithful protection, on unselfish performance; without them it cannot live.
Restoration calls, however, not for changes in ethics alone. This Nation asks for action, and action now.
Our greatest primary task is to put people to work. This is no unsolvable problem if we face it wisely and courageously. It can be accomplished in part by direct recruiting by the Government itself, treating the task as we would treat the emergency of a war, but at the same time, through this employment, accomplishing greatly needed projects to stimulate and reorganize the use of our natural resources.
Hand in hand with this we must frankly recognize the overbalance of population in our industrial centers and, by engaging on a national scale in a redistribution, endeavor to provide a better use of the land for those best fitted for the land. The task can be helped by definite efforts to raise the values of agricultural products and with this the power to purchase the output of our cities. It can be helped by preventing realistically the tragedy of the growing loss through foreclosure of our small homes and our farms. It can be helped by insistence that the Federal, State, and local governments act forthwith on the demand that their cost be drastically reduced. It can be helped by the unifying of relief activities which today are often scattered, uneconomical, and unequal. It can be helped by national planning for and supervision of all forms of transportation and of communications and other utilities which have a definitely public character. There are many ways in which it can be helped, but it can never be helped merely by talking about it. We must act and act quickly.
Finally, in our progress toward a resumption of work we require two safeguards against a return of the evils of the old order; there must be a strict supervision of all banking and credits and investments; there must be an end to speculation with other people’s money, and there must be provision for an adequate but sound currency.
There are the lines of attack. I shall presently urge upon a new Congress in special session detailed measures for their fulfillment, and I shall seek the immediate assistance of the several States.
Through this program of action we address ourselves to putting our own national house in order and making income balance outgo. Our international trade relations, though vastly important, are in point of time and necessity secondary to the establishment of a sound national economy. I favor as a practical policy the putting of first things first. I shall spare no effort to restore world trade by international economic readjustment, but the emergency at home cannot wait on that accomplishment.
The basic thought that guides these specific means of national recovery is not narrowly nationalistic. It is the insistence, as a first consideration, upon the interdependence of the various elements in all parts of the United States—a recognition of the old and permanently important manifestation of the American spirit of the pioneer. It is the way to recovery. It is the immediate way. It is the strongest assurance that the recovery will endure.
In the field of world policy I would dedicate this Nation to the policy of the good neighbor—the neighbor who resolutely respects himself and, because he does so, respects the rights of others—the neighbor who respects his obligations and respects the sanctity of his agreements in and with a world of neighbors.
If I read the temper of our people correctly, we now realize as we have never realized before our interdependence on each other; that we can not merely take but we must give as well; that if we are to go forward, we must move as a trained and loyal army willing to sacrifice for the good of a common discipline, because without such discipline no progress is made, no leadership becomes effective. We are, I know, ready and willing to submit our lives and property to such discipline, because it makes possible a leadership which aims at a larger good. This I propose to offer, pledging that the larger purposes will bind upon us all as a sacred obligation with a unity of duty hitherto evoked only in time of armed strife.
With this pledge taken, I assume unhesitatingly the leadership of this great army of our people dedicated to a disciplined attack upon our common problems.
Action in this image and to this end is feasible under the form of government which we have inherited from our ancestors. Our Constitution is so simple and practical that it is possible always to meet extraordinary needs by changes in emphasis and arrangement without loss of essential form. That is why our constitutional system has proved itself the most superbly enduring political mechanism the modern world has produced. It has met every stress of vast expansion of territory, of foreign wars, of bitter internal strife, of world relations.
It is to be hoped that the normal balance of executive and legislative authority may be wholly adequate to meet the unprecedented task before us. But it may be that an unprecedented demand and need for undelayed action may call for temporary departure from that normal balance of public procedure.
I am prepared under my constitutional duty to recommend the measures that a stricken nation in the midst of a stricken world may require. These measures, or such other measures as the Congress may build out of its experience and wisdom, I shall seek, within my constitutional authority, to bring to speedy adoption.
But in the event that the Congress shall fail to take one of these two courses, and in the event that the national emergency is still critical, I shall not evade the clear course of duty that will then confront me. I shall ask the Congress for the one remaining instrument to meet the crisis—broad Executive power to wage a war against the emergency, as great as the power that would be given to me if we were in fact invaded by a foreign foe.
For the trust reposed in me I will return the courage and the devotion that befit the time. I can do no less.
We face the arduous days that lie before us in the warm courage of the national unity; with the clear consciousness of seeking old and precious moral values; with the clean satisfaction that comes from the stern performance of duty by old and young alike. We aim at the assurance of a rounded and permanent national life.
We do not distrust the future of essential democracy. The people of the United States have not failed. In their need they have registered a mandate that they want direct, vigorous action. They have asked for discipline and direction under leadership. They have made me the present instrument of their wishes. In the spirit of the gift I take it.
In this dedication of a Nation we humbly ask the blessing of God. May He protect each and every one of us. May He guide me in the days to come.

Franklin D. Roosevelt, Inaugural Address, March 4, 1933, (as published in Samuel Rosenman, ed., The Public Papers of Franklin D. Roosevelt, Volume Two: The Year of Crisis, 1933 (New York: Random House, 1938), 11–16.L) (Highlights chosen by yours truly.)

When You Send A Kid To School In Rural NC...

2008-10-18T11:00:00.000-07:00

...he'll come home one day and use "ain't" in a sentence.

Five years of training undone on the playground.

(Sigh.)

For All of You Introverts Out There

2008-10-14T18:01:00.000-07:00

As I am waging a war against a very angry cold and had to make it through a round of immunizations for Kailey today (hate. the. shots.), I don't have much energy left for thinking original thoughts. So it's the perfect time to share someone else's blog, which I happen to greatly enjoy...welcome to Shrinking Violet Promotions. It's a blog about navigating the world of marketing and writing as an introvert...and their current project is compiling an official Introvert's Bill of Rights. Awesome, right? I totally want to join the revolution...dare to be silent! Dare to be alone! Dare to wear iPods at social events! Woo! Fight for your right to...um...not party!

It's Columbus Day!

2008-10-13T06:31:00.000-07:00

In spite of disputes concerning his actual accomplishments, most Americans still give Christopher Columbus credit for 'discovering' America. We all know that 'in the year of 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue'. Wikipedia offers more information on the man himself, but I'd like to take a moment to ponder the immense task the first explorers faced.

In this modern day of highways, countless signs, and GPS, I'm still directionally challenged. I usually figure out new places by getting lost in them...just a week ago, I had a good 10 minutes of sheer panic because a police officer made me detour around a street festival--which meant I had to veer from my carefully written down directions. So, for me, the thought of hopping onto a ship and sailing out into the middle of the ocean, with no real knowledge of what might happen next (without cell phones!) is unfathomable. The exploration of the 'new world' took spunk, my friends. Real heavy-duty spunk. I wish I had that kind of courage--because imagine the thrill of spotting a land you've never seen before after all of that time bobbing around in the Atlantic. Imagine leaving your own civilized, populated city and arriving at this spread of natural beauty, completely unmarred by the 'advancement' of man (because the Native Americans knew how to live with nature and didn't have to conquer it in order to make their place in the world). What a rush the entire experience must have been--the fear and exhaustion must have been worth the excitement of discovery.

Thanks to technology and all that we have learned over the past hundreds of years, there's little left unseen in this world...but the possibilities for personal discoveries are endless. This world has so much to offer...and I feel like I have so much left to experience. Have you seen 'the Bucket List' with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman? If you haven't, you should. After I stopped crying, I really thought about that list we all have--those goals we'd like to accomplish in our lifetimes, the places we'd like to see, the experiences we'd like to have.

So, in honor of Columbus Day, try to explore something on your list. It can be challenging to try something new--we all have a million excuses to not do it--but let's think like explorers. Whether it's an idea, a place, other people, an activity...let's allow the thrill of discovery to displace our complacency and fear. It's been said a million times, but it's still sound advice and I think that Columbus would agree with the sentiment: carpe diem! Seize the day!

For Our Viewing Pleasure

2008-10-10T17:21:00.000-07:00

At the end of a very long day(that isn't over yet), which concludes a very long week(that isn't over yet), I feel like stealing a minute to relax...so let's watch one of the classic moments from one of my all time favorite shows, the Cosby Show. Rudy's baaaaabyyyyyy never fails to make me smile! And, if you're so inclined, please dance and sing along.

Taking Time

2008-10-09T06:38:00.000-07:00

"Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or into the deep, deep woods, and I'd look up into the sky--up--up--up--into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer." ~Anne of Green Gables

Today, I feel like Anne. I am longing to go out into the middle of a big field spotted with wildflowers or the quiet of the woods that somehow feels sacred and just...be. I've often thought that nature, that the world in itself, is the perfect sanctuary...the perfect tabernacle. Every element reflects the nature of God Himself--what better place to find His presence?

I wish for a time without the noise of the news or the nagging knowledge that the floor needs mopping or the clock's insistence on ticking its way to the next scheduled errand...I wish to sit and breathe, to wait on God, to listen for nothing but His small voice. There's such value in waiting sometimes...but in our lives, there's no room for waiting. Even if we're forced to do so, like in a school pick-up line or a doctor's office, we're multi-tasking away...talking on cell phones, texting, paying bills, listening to the iPod...I'm the worst for this. If I get a spare minute, I actually feel guilty if I don't 'use' it.

The only down time I feel okay about is that special time at the end of every day, when I'm tucking the kids into bed...telling them stories, listening to them talk about their day, listening to their prayers. In those moments, I feel the best connection with them, because it's dark and there are no distractions--it's just us, just our little family, really communicating.

And, today, I'm thinking to myself--wouldn't I feel so much better if I took this time out for God? He deserves that kind of devotion and I need that kind of true communion with Him, so that I can keep my peace in the day to day course of life that is so unpredictable. Logistically, I can't run away to do this. I can't find a tiny chapel in the Alps empty of everything but an altar, I can't sit alone on a beach, I can't venture into the woods for hours of meditation and meandering.

But I can breathe in this gorgeous October weather as the kids play outside. I can put aside Fox News while I fold laundry and focus instead on His face...I can allow His presence to infiltrate all of the facets of my life. I just need to remember that my time is made up of what I put into it...so even if I can't run away from all obligation to sit at His feet, He will dwell within me. Nature reflects His glory, but our bodies and minds were created to contain His glory.

So while I'm hanging out here, longing to spend time with Him, He's right outside--waiting to be invited in.

Here's a reminder for me and for you--don't forget to open the door. Our great big field of peace can be in the front seat of the car, the den, or...you know. Just wherever we are.

Happy!

2008-10-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

I've had another short story accepted and you can find it....here, at Perpetual Magazine. It's called "The Duck Hunter's Wife" and I'm so glad it has found a home!

A Brand New Masterpiece

2008-10-07T19:53:00.001-07:00

My little kindergartner's latest work of art...I believe the title is officially something like "Ladybug Carried by a Turtle". I'm a big fan of the artist!

Recent Moments That Have Stopped Me in My Tracks

2008-10-07T11:02:00.000-07:00

Sean started kindergarten. Which is wonderful, weird, and scary all at the same time...he loves it. From day one, he has been excited to share all of the new things he's learning and doing, from Art class to centers to 'chasing dragons' on the playground with new friends. The weird and scary mostly apply to me. It's so strange to see him developing this new part of his life...he's creating his own independent world, apart from me. It's good for him, but it's been hard letting go of the 'control' over his days that I've had until this point. He's picking up new phrases, he knows people I don't know, he's learning things I'm not teaching him....he's becoming his own person. I'm incredibly proud of him...I just have to pray every day that God will protect him out there in that big world and that he'll have good experiences in this foundation of his education. (Also, there was that 'yikes' moment of realizing that I'm old enough to have a kid in school...wowsers.)

My sister graduated from nursing school and then passed her license test. She's a for real nurse. She can stick people with needles and stuff. Congrats, Mandy! I couldn't be prouder of you...

My in-laws are moving to a different state...they'll still only be a few hours away, so it's not as bad as it could be....but that leaves us here without any family around. Which is daunting. My parents-in-law have been incredible to me for as long as I've known them and they're definitely my go-to people...I've always been able to depend on them whenever I've needed an extra hand (which, with three kids, can be often!). Plus, the kids are accustomed to seeing them on a really regular basis, so I know it'll be an adjustment for them to not have their Papaw and Mimi around...but it's a good move for them, and I have to look at the bright side here. I'll learn lots of lessons in total self-reliance, which is good for me. Right? Right???? (Big, loooong sigh.)

Ahmadinejad, dictator of Iran, attending an 'international dialogue' dinner in New York and showing up as a guest on Larry King Live. Dude. This guy, by his own testimony, hates America and Israel. In fact, he was just gloating about the fact that the American empire was crumbling...and we, in turn, open a welcoming door to him. I can understand tolerance. I can understand being gracious to our enemies, to a certain extent. But inviting them in, letting them spew their hatred on our own soil, on our own networks--that, I cannot understand.

Oh, the election. I'm fascinated with the passion that has caught our nation up in this year's race, and I'm glad that there's a political discussion going on....but I'm irritated with negativity for negativity's sake. Spotlighting negative attributes that are based on facts, however...that's also called education. That's called knowing the candidate. I'm also irritated with certain media groups for being so blatantly unbiased that it's passed ridiculous...and when you expect your own opinions to be heard, people, you have to listen to the opinions of others. It's fair. The conservative party is constantly accused of being closed-minded, but it's a condition that is on both sides of the line. Do your research. Know the facts. And, of course, vote.

I sold a short story! Woo to the hoo! I'll link here on the ol' blog to the magazine's website when the story is up, which should be closer to the end of the month.

With the rest of the county, I've been watching the economic crisis with a scared, slightly confused, sense of foreboding. I have all these images of the Great Depression in my head, which include this movie my family used to own that came from Feature Films for Family...this really spoiled girl hits her head and goes back in time and experiences that period of time (which, of course, cures her of the brattiness and shallow attitude)...it's odd, but when I picture the Great Depression, I see everything in this sort of brown and grey color scheme....like the country was so poor that we didn't even have color anymore. Anyway, I think of the stock market crashing and suicides and hungry families...unemployment...nothing good comes to mind. The threat of an economic breakdown in our country is scary, no doubt. Even thinking of it makes me want to plant a garden, buy a cow, and stock up on toilet paper. But the key, I think, is to not panic. I, of course, have no idea how to solve the problem, but I am hoping that our leaders can figure it out before we all get a metaphorical hit on the head and have to learn some needed lessons the really, really hard way. Unlike the lucky girl in the aforementioned movie, we don't have the option of waking up to a restored present and apologizing to our grandparents for our selfish candy-bar business and questionable fashion sense.

And, in hopes of ending this session of blogettes on a positive note, I'll say that every day with my family stops me in my tracks with thankfulness. Because, even with the turmoil this crazy world is in, at the end of the day...I have a happy, healthy family and lots of love to fuel our future. We have to all remember that hope--and action to back up that hope--has gotten this country of ours through many, many, many uncertain times...and I believe that it will again. So let's all let our little whistles ring out loud and strong...(okay, I can't actually physically whistle--I never have been able to get the hang of it--but I'll hum, if that counts. Or sing. Or play Sean's Kazoo.)

Counting Down

2008-10-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

Have you registered to vote yet? There are only a few days left....make your voice heard!

Disney Adventures, Part One

2008-08-25T09:59:00.000-07:00

So when you've planned a vacation for a good two years, there are certain things you expect to do on the day you're supposed to depart - there are last minute items to be thrown into suitcases, pesky dishes to be loaded into the dishwasher, the trash taken out, books to pick out for the road trip, excited kids to direct out of the way of the packing. But last Thursday, the day we were leaving for our trip to Florida with both sides of the family, things were...ummmm....a bit more complicated.

The morning started with Sean throwing up. Several times. When I called my parents to complain about this unfortunate happening, they answered on their way to the doctor's office - my mother had broken out in a painful rash, which they were hoping was an allergic reaction to the antibiotic she just started....fortunately, it was a reaction instead of something contagious. So armed with new medications and the rest of the kids, my parents headed towards my house. They were getting close when Neil made an observation...one of Christian's ears was completely red and swollen...it was hot to the touch and we completely panicked, as I had also noticed two weird looking bite marks on his arm that very day. Off to the doctor I went, to find out that it was a simple inflammatory reaction to those pals we all know here in the south - the mosquito. The doctor gave us several medications for him....so with the new meds packed up with the inhaler he has already been using to get through a bad cold, we finally left town....about 4 hours after our goal. An auspicious beginning, eh?

Regardless of that crazy Thursday, the rest of the trip was wonderful, even with the tropical storm that decided to show up. We didn't let the rain stop our fun....with both sides of our family there and watching the kids discover what it's like to go on a real vacation, I feel more than blessed with memories(....and my dream came true!).

Our view of the resort from our ninth floor apartment....you can't tell from this picture, but we could see the big Epcot ball and the Tower of Terror!

While waiting to check in, my sisters couldn't resist the Dance Revolution...and below is our first theme park day (my family's first trip into the Magic Kingdom)!

I know...we look stunning in our fabulous 3D glasses...I'll never forget my sister, Hannah, jumping out of her skin when the 3D mice "ran" over our feet!

What's Disney without Mickey and Minnie? The kids were a bit shy with the famous mice, but my mother-in-law got a nice big smooch from Mickey before the camera clicked! Kailey spent most of the day like this...snoozing. In this picture, though, she looks like she's conducting music...
and here's Neil spinning my siblings at warp speed on those infamous tea cups. My brother was thrilled to get behind the wheel of a car all by himself....and Christian loved watching the parade (intently!) on his Papa's shoulders.

A Small World proved to be a favorite with the kids...Sean was fascinated!
And, at the end of the day, one of the best memories of all - Kailey's first real laugh. A few tickles from her Nana and she was giggling....such a beautiful sound!

So that was our first few days...there's much more to come, including my father as a game show contestant and my father-in-law crowned king of England!

Most Likely to Scheme With Ashton Kutcher

2008-07-22T19:15:00.000-07:00

So the boys were having one of those nights where they just didn't want to fall asleep. I put them into bed, turned out the light, and went to get Kailey ready for sleepy-time. Sean and Christian kept alternating their calls - "Mommy! I can't sleep!" "Mommy, Sean threw a pillow down!" "Mommy! I want water!" "Mommy! Mommy! Moooommmmmyyyy!"

This can get very annoying. I try to ignore them for the most part, lest I get sucked into an endless back-and-forth exchange, which is so not the point of bedtime.

But, finally, Sean said "Mommy! I'm scared! I think there's a monster in the closet!"
I started walking back to their room, yelling out across the house (I'm soooo ladylike sometimes) "THERE'S NOT A MONSTER IN THE CLOSET!" I got to their room and looked up at Sean on the top bunk. "Sean, there's nothing to be scared of. I promise, there is not a monster in the closet. Monsters are not real."
"Actually, Mommy, I think it's a small dinosaur."
"There isn't a monster and there isn't a dinosaur, either. There's nothing in the closet!" I turned to the closet, reached out to open the doors, and RRROOOOAAAAARRRR!!!!
Christian jumped out of the closet.
I nearly jumped right out of my fuzzy pink socks and let out a totally sincere scream.
They were so pleased with themselves for scaring me that it was all they talked about the next day.
Here's what really scares me - if they're coming up with pranks to pull on me now, at the sweet innocent ages of 3 and 5, what are they going to do to me when they're teenagers???

On Being Fruitful and Multiplying...

2008-07-16T19:50:00.000-07:00

And then there were five. Kailey Juliet was born on June Tenth. She has already wrapped everyone in the house around her teensy pinky...we're having a great time dressing her up in cute dresses and getting baby-snuggles. I forgot how small the kiddos really are when they're born. She's already grown so much -- and she's getting more attentive, taking in this crazy world around her. But here's a picture of day one, in the hospital, when she was fresh out of the oven....

When I look at Kailey, Sean, and Christian together, my heart feels like it's going to burst at its seams. It's amazing how much love a person can contain, how much joy can fill us up. This is what it is to be blessed beyond measure.

Reason #8,987,346,219 Why Kids Are More Entertaining Than Houseplants

2008-03-13T21:06:00.000-07:00

This goes right up to the top of the "Weird Things Accomplished By My Kids" list.

A foreign object was taken from Christian's nose this morning. It was one of these:

That's right. A small piece of liquid ice. Is it liquid? Is it ice? Who knows? The funny thing is, while I was getting him ready for bed last night, I kept thinking that he smelled minty and that he must have had some candy in his class at church.

Apparently, to Christian, it was more like a teensy tiny fun ball that needed to be stored in a very safe spot for a later playdate.

Just For Fun...

2008-03-03T12:54:00.000-08:00

So far I love the month of March! Those last days of February were truly February-ish - all cold and white and gloomified. But with March came the sun! And sixty to seventy degree temperatures! It makes me happy. Being outside with the boys and inhaling that subtle scent in the air (slight, earthy, promises of budding trees) gets me in that flower-planting frame of mind, which it definitely isn't time for yet. But, all the same, I want to drive to the nearest store, buy new gardening gloves, and pretty up my depressed yard. I truly hope that in Heaven, in one facet or another, we'll still get the essence of the joy the whole winter to spring change brings...or maybe it'll just feel like that all the time, since Heaven is our eternal spring...maybe we'll always feel like jumping around and digging our toes into gold-dusty dirt....

And I found a fun, silly link through all of the quadrillion pregnancy emails I'm getting...Look Who's Prego! Since I'm getting rounder and rounder by the millisecond, I figured I'd give everyone else a chance to see how they'd look if they were pregnant, too....go on. You know you want to try it.

Lastly...this is a bit belated, but everyone should go check out Heather's fun question on her blog...she poses an interesting literary challenge. And I can totally agree with her pick!

Happy Monday, everyone!

"Wouldn't it be fun if all the castles in the air which we make could come true and we could live in them?" ~Jo March

2008-02-28T12:04:00.000-08:00

I am in a Norman Rockwell stage. I've been spending time looking through a huge book of his work, and was delighted to find his Louisa May Alcott series. The above picture is, simply, "Jo March in the Attic".

I love "Little Women". I remember how thrilling it was to discover that there were other books after it..."Little Men", "Jo's Boys", etc....but nothing ever replaced that original story of four sisters in my esteem.

This painting makes me smile because it reminds me of how desperately I wanted to be Jo March - feisty and brave, locked away in some special spot reserved for writing and imagining the rest of the world. (I think that a part of me could very well turn into a hermit, lost in an internal world. This may be the reason God decided I needed a family so early. So that I couldn't become the proverbial crazy cat lady. [at least not yet.]) When Jo finally got those stories published, but couldn't be proud of them, I was so torn for her - wanting her success to be truly admirable, for her to be happy with it...and then there's her book at the end, after the grief of losing Beth....I wanted to write something like that, too. Something with meaning, something special. Something to be proud of.

Thinking about "Little Women" takes me back to that wonderful phase of childhood...that time when I could just lie around and devour books by the pile. I had this great reading and diary-writing spot -- not in an attic like Jo, but outside on this big wooden swing in a corner of our yard. It was shaded by some wild trees covered in kudzu and angled so that I didn't feel exposed to the world. I named it something like 'Windy Hill.' I had a great penchant for naming places after L.M. Montgomery came into my brain. I also wrote out my diary entries to 'Kitty' for a few years after reading Anne Frank. I was, um, quite an impressionable kid, apparently.

But maybe it was more than that - I think, by trying to imitate these great people and characters, I was attempting to bring some of their magic into my life. Because that's what great books still do for me - they remind me that even the ordinary moments can be sacred...they make me want to have purpose and to aspire for greatness. They make me look at the daily within the larger picture...and to know that it's the scenes - the dialogue, the day to day action - that make up an entire life. So to infuse the knowledge that it all counts, even the small stuff, for the greater meaning of my life...it makes a difference in how I look at this house with the toys from scattered on the floor, the stray cat stretched out asleep on the back porch, the cell phone ringing in the next room.
The fact that there are books in this world that can make someone savor life more...that bring on a smile....it feels like such an extravagant gift!

Mid-Week Musing

2008-02-27T08:41:00.000-08:00

Our pastor used a quote last Sunday by a fellow named Stephen Grellet. I liked the quote and so looked up Mr. Grellet, who turned out to have had quite an interesting life. Anyone who starts out as a body-guard for King Louis XVI, escapes an order to be executed during the French Revolution, and ends up as a Quaker missionary in America definitely would have a few life-lessons up his (ruffled, in this case) sleeve.

These were his words that caught my attention and make me want to get out there and do something:

"I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good things, therefore, that I can do, any kindness that I can show a fellow being, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."

Surprise Request

2008-02-24T17:04:00.000-08:00

Sean's prayer at bedtime sort of floored me tonight...he started out with this: "God, please give me -"

And in that pause, I was thinking...and here it is. The first time he asks for God to give him something more than a safe night and good dreams. And with the amount of time it was taking him to think it up...I was getting ready to hear a request for Power Rangers or a dog or Transformers...and a part of me was sad, that his innocent baby prayers might be turning into the 'I want' list instead...I didn't expect it quite so soon.

But he continued with this: "Please, God, give Christian a new toy car that's really fast on a roller coaster that's a toy that he likes." And on with the regularly scheduled prayer.

It actually brought tears to my eyes. This 4 year old's instinct is to pray for a blessing someone else would enjoy (and he's the first one to always say that Christian likes cars, but he likes superheroes...it was actually a selfless toy request).

Another life lesson from my kid.
If he keeps giving me such great examples of how to be a better person, I might actually show improvement at some point. :)

Because Sometimes a Picture Really is Worth 1000 Words

2008-02-13T13:48:00.000-08:00

Today's Action:

Organize tax information. Get some idea of what might be owed to our government.

My Reaction:

Precious Moments Aren't Just Porcelain Figurines

2008-02-11T17:18:00.001-08:00

Today was a good day.
I decided to take a semi-break from housework and my writing to-do list in order to spend a little extra time playing with the boys...so instead of scribbling in the notebook or folding laundry while they had art-time, I colored with them. We had an indoor picnic for lunch, a fort-building session in the early afternoon, and a long drawn out battle of ninjas versus invisible foes. Multiplying foes, I might add. Every time I thought we had surely been victorious (aka, my 'karate' was tiring me out), Sean would say "oh, no! There are twenty more behind you!" He informed me that they were getting in through the fireplace, so I tried "blocking" it with large couch cushions...didn't help one bit. Those bad guys were tricky. And, by the way, it is hilarious for me - the girl who spent her "pretending" years with younger sisters, doll babies, Anne of Green Gables, and tea sets - to be playing Mommy Ninja. This playing with boys thing is a whole new world.
After a few extra stories at bedtime, we went into what is usually the sweetest part of my day - lights out (as long as they're being cooperative. we all know that forcing a 3 and 4 year old to stay in bed when they don't want to is less than a fun time...). After I tucked them in and had given all of the requested kisses and hugs, I turned on our current bedtime playlist (Josh Groban, Ella Fitzgerald, a few jazzy pieces by Miles Davis) and listened to them say their prayers. There is nothing quite like hearing their spontaneous conversations with God...Christian mainly mimics Sean and adds a hearty amen...but, still, it's a perfect display of innocent faith - a faith that it becomes harder to hold onto as we grow older. Listening to Sean thank God for taking care of our family (with a name by name list) reminds me that worry is pointless....just like Sean is certain that Mommy and Daddy will be there to pour his apple juice in the morning, he's certain that God will take care of us. It's wonderful to bask in the simplicity of his world...because it's a simplicity intended for mine, as well.
As I sat there in the quiet beside of the bed, I had one of those moments where it just hit me...how precious these days are. Right now, it's just the three of us during the day, with our own little world...trips to the park are still marvelous outings to them, grocery shopping is an adventure, a picnic in our own back yard is something akin to the golden ticket. It takes so little to thrill them....just a little time and imagination. I'm going to do my best to make the most of these last months...because in June, it'll get a little harder to play so freely...and then, in August, the biggest chunk of Sean's day will be taken up by school.
People are not overstating it at all when they talk about how fleeting childhood is...babies today and teenagers tomorrow. It's my deepest hope that when the boys look back at these days of forts and two-hour coloring sessions, they'll know how much joy they brought to their hormone-crazed Mommy - and I hope that joy is given back to them, over and over and over again....
I guess that's a Mama's biggest prayer - let my children's cups overflow with blessings until the floor's flooded...let the blessings rise and rise until they're doing the backstroke through love, peace, and grace...totally and completely inundate them with Your goodness.

2008-02-09T18:59:00.000-08:00

The moment Christian decided to do what his aunts and uncles were telling him to do:That's right. Forget forks. Forget civilized behavior. Teeth are made for birthday cake consumption, are they not?

When he says he's gonna' do something, he's gonna' do it. He bit out of that cake from one end to the other, much to the delight of my siblings. I blame them.
But I didn't stop him. At least not for a while. You only turn three once, right?
And, honestly....don't you want to eat your next birthday cake just like that?

p.s. photography by the ever-lovely Carrie

California Dreamin'

2008-02-07T20:59:00.001-08:00

Does anybody else remember this tv show? It was definitely in that prime era of TNBC....Saturday mornings rocked, baby, with Saved By The Bell, Hang Time, City Guys...and of course California Dreams: Please feel free to watch the opening credits and feel 13 again.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8ltiqJgf24&feature=related

Anyway. That's all just to prove that the glamour and wonder of California is ingrained in us at a tender age here in the US of A...Saved By The Bell was all about California grooviness, too, if you'll remember. And who among us didn't, at some point, see about 5 billion episodes of Saved By The Bell?

So last November, when Neil and I flew out to LA for vacation, it was finally my chance to see all of this magic in person. And you know what? Even though, somehow, I didn't spend my time singing in a band at a hip beach club or playing beach volleyball with Zack Morris (AND I didn't wake up blonde, tan, and a size 2! What was that about????), there was definitely something different about California. It's one of those places where the air is filled with opportunity(because you CAN get discovered on a random street corner, right?)...and it's surreal to see the places that have formally been bound to your tv screen as reality.

We had so much fun...and since it was just the two of us, we were constantly on the go. (And we did crash the second we walked into the hotel room. Ok, I crashed the second I sat down anywhere, but there wasn't much I could do about that. Baby-in-uterus still trumps vacation adrenaline, apparently.) We crammed in at least 4 theme parks, a zoo, museums, tourist-y celebrity tours, a Laker's game, a showing of Wicked (amazing, by the way)....and we even got to have a personal tour from an insider. Our visit with the always wonderful Ms. BCT was definitely a highlight.

My favorite museum, by the way, was in the original Max Factor building...it was all about historical Hollywood and so much of it was preserved from the days when Lucille Ball, Judy Garland, and other amazing actresses would visit to get their make-up done for their shows. I love the classic Hollywood days, so seeing so much original memorabilia was a thrill for me.

I could go on and on about the trip, but I won't pile on the details. I will, however, share a few pictures! Because in these days of cold winter weather, California Dreamin' is a wonderful way to go...

We have arrived! We start dodging paparazzi....now. We dodged pretty well, by the way. We somehow didn't end up on a single magazine cover or news broadcast.

And our first awesome puchase in Hollywood? Band-aids. Yep. Ten minutes upon arriving on Hollywood Blvd, I'm in a pharmacy because my shoes are not all that broken in. Woo-hoo! Bring it ON, vacation!

There she is! My long-time friend turned Hollywood local, giving us our first California meal.

The Chinese Theatre, which is where you'll find all of those infamous hand and foot prints. The inside is even more impressive than the outside.

And below you'll see my husband jumping into action during our visit to the Hollywood Wax Museum. Spidey's energy was contagious. Sorry that I don't know how to rotate the picture with this Blogger machinery.

Da-du-dudu, da-dududu....um, that's the theme song to Beverly Hills, 90210 you're hearing in your head, too - right?

And a view from those Hollywood hills of LA...

And why can't we all live in places where superheroes mingle on the streets? That's Captain America, the Flash, and Batman all in one huddle. Rest easy, LA. You're well protected.

Mr. Neil at Seaworld...blue skies, blue water, and still representing the Tarheel Blue on the hat. You can take the Heels out of North Carolina, but...you know the rest.The drive down to San Diego was gorgeous. Ocean on one side and the beginning of mountains on the other...I was all 'ooh! ahhhh!' the entire way. The pictures from the (moving) car don't begin to do it all justice.The panda is at the San Diego Zoo and too sweet to resist. I wanted to carry him home with me, but I couldn't figure out where I'd buy bamboo once I got him here. And...palm trees. Because it was, after all, California.

And So...

2008-02-06T08:28:00.000-08:00

The past five months or so have been a period of incubation for me, in more ways than one.
Creatively, I had pushed through a major draft of my novel and the inevitable rewrites....and then, of course, came the onslought of queries and rejections. My brain got really, really tired. I was still writing bits and pieces of things in the little notebook, but nothing cohesive...just ideas, scenes, character descriptions.
And then came news. My body was working on a creative endeavor of its own - baby number three! And this little one, ladies and gents, is a girl. Neil and I are overjoyed with this new development...with Sean starting school this summer and Christian just turning three, it seems that the timing is right. She is due to join us out here in the real world on June seventh....so we still have some time to prepare. And to think up a name. The naming process was easy for the boys....this girl, however, may end up Baby Girl Lambert in the hospital if we don't start narrowing in on the perfect name soon.
So with the pregnancy came lots of happiness....and lots of pure exhaustion inside of my skull. Until that first trimester was well over, I had to force myself to follow the normal routines....and I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to sketch out a paragraph. (This blog and the world of the internet was apparently the largest victim of this condition. But I tell ya' - I missed it!) For a while, I just needed to indulge in reading and trying to convince my boys to take naps with me. And, of course, there was the need for BBQ potato chips and Mexican food...this kid likes the spicy stuff.
Fortunately, things started boiling again a few weeks ago and the long months of eensy production have rolled into several new short stories and a major overhaul (gulp) of that crazy book of mine. Time equals objectivity with this writing thing, and I definitely needed a good dose of that!
So I keep learning that wise Mr. Solomon was so right -- there are seasons for everything. And with a new addition to our family so welcome, I know we're moving into a season of joy.

My Kind of Optimism

2008-02-03T19:10:00.000-08:00

"Ever tried.
Ever failed.
No matter.
Try again.
Fail again.
Fail better."

~Samuel Beckett

Gotta' Love This

2007-08-18T14:12:00.000-07:00

I'm reading Joe Jones by Anne Lamott...and just came across this quote that made me laugh in recognition: "She thinks: Being me is just so time consuming."

Thanks to Laura

2007-08-18T07:16:00.001-07:00

The Little House on the Prairie series was the first I ever read by myself...I can't remember how old I was, but I remember how much I loved following Laura's adventures. The wagons and wide prairies and cozy nights tucked in with the sound of Pa's music - it all thrilled me. The books spurred much of my early 'pretend' playing and influenced my choices throughout childhood...such as my insistence that my sister and I name our bikes so that they could be our 'horses'....and many, many, many games of 'pioneer'. Following the Little House books, I began to read more pioneer stories written for kids...and then fell in love with books by Janette Oke (this was also because of my lovely grandmothers, who both let me raid their bookshelves and taught me by example that books are to be loved). The majority of Janette Oke's Christian books are set in the 1800s and gave me the grown up's perspectives of those courageous settlers.

I was thinking about all of this because I unpacked long-closed boxes of books from those days and kept taking out book after book with this theme...(though Laura's books have been safely on my shelves, most of my childhood reading materials have been packed up in the garage)...it makes me smile, to think of how ready I was for some adventure of my own (and how much I longed to live in a dugout by a creek).

I looked up the Laura Ingalls books this morning and found that they've been remarketed for the younger generations....which is good. I hope I can pass this love of mine down to my own kids...especially if I ever have a girl. Because Laura Ingalls is definitely full of girls-can-do-anything antecdotes. Here's a cool list of recipes and activies drawn from the books - all fun ideas!

I'm glad my parents gave me those books so long ago...they opened up an entire world with that simple gift.

Confessions

2007-08-16T10:58:00.000-07:00

First, I'd like to say thanks for all of the birthday wishes I received here and for all of the wonderful book suggestions given in the fairy tale post...I am a year older, but at least I have lots of reading material to spice up the new year!

Currently, I need an attitude makeover. I'll share a little bit of my feelings here, because I know that other moms read this blog - and hopefully, you'll recognize where I'm coming from.

I hate it when I get this pinched-breath sort of feeling, because I am well aware of the blessings that actually overwhelm my life. And my children are the best and most beautiful of them all...but every now and then, especially when my last solo venture into the world to do something Christie-ish (like browsing in a bookstore) is at best a vague memory (early spring?), the routines get to me. Seriously - do you ever feel like if you have to pick up the pieces of those same puzzles one more time in a twenty four hour period that you might spontaneously combust? It's these cycles that ever hurtle forwards that can get to me - the laundry, the dishes, the crumbs that mysteriously end up all over the carpet (eight times a day! I don't understand how they sneak this stuff out of the kitchen!), the tussles between toddlers that invariably end in tears and the guilty party hiding under the bed...I feel guilty even writing this stuff down, but it's the truth. Every now and then, I want to run away. Just for a few hours. Just long enough to eat a snack without having to share it and maybe to drink something hot without worrying about small hands overturning the cup...just long enough to get through a chapter of something without an adventuresome two year old trying to yank the curtains down from their rods...if Neil didn't work such a consuming job, there might be more chances for me to have those hours...but he does, so there are these times when the sameness of every day begins to glaze over the joys therein...

Like today.

So maybe venting a little to you, blogosphere, will ease up some of the frustration. In hopes of reminding myself of what I should be saying instead of complaining, I'm including a classic prayer written by St. Thomas Aquinas that I have always loved. I'm also adding a wonderful painting by Craig Nelson, an artist I have just discovered. Definitely check him out.

"Grant, O Lord my God, that I may never fall away in success or in failure; that I may not be prideful in prosperity nor dejected in adversity. Let me rejoice only in what unites and sorrow only in what separates us. May I strive to please no one or fear to displease anyone except Yourself. May I seek always the things that are eternal and never those that are only temporal. May I shun any joy that is without You and never seek any that is beside You. O Lord, may I delight in any work I do for You and tire of any rest that is apart from You. My God, let me direct my heart towards You, and in my failings, always repent with a purpose of amendment."

Zzzzzz

2007-08-15T17:46:00.000-07:00

How you know your new story idea isn't going to lift off the ground :

You fall asleep on your keyboard while drumming up scenes (literally, keyboard imprints on face and legs numb from awkward crossed position). Yes, that's right. Your own brain children (ie, characters) bore you into unconscious slumber.

That, my friends, is an undeniable sign.

So....Hot....

2007-08-09T15:47:00.001-07:00

The temperature at noon today was at about 107. It is miserably hot here in the southern part of the US this week...opening the front door feels like opening the oven door. When I break a sweat just getting the kids into the car? Yeah. That's too hot for me.

My posts have been scanty this week...we've had much more activity around here than usual. Vacation Bible School began on Monday. It's Sean's first year and he is having a blast...every day he comes home full of information about his lesson, snacks, and games. Christian has been having his own party in the nursery section of the church. New toys and animal crackers! Woo! I was recruited to work in the craft station, so I've been busy with hot glue guns and pipe cleaners. The theme for the week was Water Works Park and so the kids, at least, have been able to cool off outside with water games. I've been really tempted to jump in on one of those!

Tomorrow's the last day. I mentioned this to Sean earlier today and he asked me (again) if kindergarten is next. Sigh. Those wings are spreading...and the Mommy is already feeling some separation anxiety. I guess this is the bittersweet nature of parenthood. We work hard to teach them independence and are so pleased when they can feed themselves and no longer need diapers and drink from big kid cups...but then the day comes that they're ready to go out into the world and use that independence without us. And we know it's good and important that they do this growing up thing - but we can't help wishing it all hadn't gone by quite so quickly.

But Who Gets Custody of Santa?

2007-08-02T05:39:00.000-07:00

I find this article from the Telegraph.co.uk extremely interesting. Apparently the North Pole has been claimed by Russia..."veteran Arctic explorer Artur Chilingarov descended 14,000 feet in a three-man deep sea submersible and dropped a Russian tricolor cast in titanium onto the seabed."

People aren't too thrilled with the idea. Despite the agreement made within the boundaries of the UN about this territory, it's bound to get ugly as there's believed to be ten billion barrels of oil waiting for a happy owner to claim them. Add that to the global warming issue and you've got a place important to the future of the earth...(those melting ice sheets, experts are saying, could even open up the infamous North East passage for commercial traffic within eight years).

Who knows what will happen? I just hope it's managed peaceably.

Because the elves do not handle conflict well.

Permission to Whine...

2007-07-30T08:53:00.000-07:00

The always fun Luisa tagged me with this meme this morning...and I'll take her up on it. It's not often that we have permission to voice disgruntled feelings. And as my mother says - when it's your mud puddle, sometimes it's okay to wallow in it. (As long as you eventually get out and shower, of course.)

5 people who will be annoyed that I tagged them:

Betsy
Carrie
Eva
Hannah (because it's about time that you started your own blog!)
Amy Jane (I know you don't usually do the meme thing, but maybe this will serve to inspire some future post.)

4 things that should go into Room 101 to be banished from the earth forever:

Child abuse. All forms.

Realistic horror movies that just serve to perpetuate fear and violence. They give me nightmares and make me afraid to be in my own backyard. I don't like 'em.

Barbie Girl by Aqua. I don't know why. I just have detested this song from the first time I heard it.

The last season of 7th Heaven. So. Many. Reasons.

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently:

Calling other people any variation on the word 'stupid'.

Scraping silverware on plates. (My siblings still do this on purpose just to make me crazy.)

Grabbing a book out of my hands while I'm reading it. Not a good idea. Ever.

2 things you find yourself moaning about:

Writing anything 'official' about my fiction - a query, a synopsis, an outline....the bane of my scribbling fun.

Potty training. Will it ever end?

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself:

That I have lots of pet peeves? Because I really had so many answers - I had to pick and choose...I think I'm an idealist. I have pictures in my head of how things should be (probably all picked up from sources such as Little House on the Prairie and L.M. Montgomery...) and it stresses me out when reality interferes. For instance - would Anne and Gilbert ever through Saw? I think not. The imagination is meant for creating works that are beautiful and reflect something important about life and faith - okay, so the dark stuff comes into play (and I realize that this is in my own work)....but the important thing is that it has a point. The bad stuff works into good stuff - or at least shows that there's hope. (And the 7th Heaven thing? That just has to do with aspiring for quality and not quantity. Another whole post.)

In a Fairy-Tale-ish Sort of Mood

2007-07-28T10:59:00.000-07:00

During a recent trip to the movies, I saw a preview for Philip Pullman's The Golden Compass. This was a book I received as a gift waaaaay back in 1997 (I know this for sure from the inscription, which begins 'to the girl who always has her nose in a book'. Apparently a decade hasn't changed me all that much). It's fantasy and is the first book in Pullman's trilogy - which, unfortunately, I never finished reading.

I pulled the book out and reread it last night. There are things I didn't know to catch as a thirteen year old, such as the fact that these books are drawn from Milton's Paradise Lost and the controversial subject matter of the Dust, which is supposedly related to original sin. I can't elaborate on that without finishing the books - many mysteries were left unsolved in the first installment. But The Golden Compass is full of adventure and it was fun getting caught up in it again...

As I read it, I realized that it has been a long time since I have read a novel that is purely fantasy. I've reread Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy and Lewis' Narnian books in the past couple of years, but that's about it. It's odd, because as a kid I loved Madeleine L'Engle's science fiction books and I remember devouring Ursela Le Guin's Earthsea series...I think that I have this idea of grown-up fantasy/sci-fi books as books filled with vampires and werewolves and badly written cliches, which doesn't make me want to read them.

I'm hoping that I have misinformed myself...because I enjoy stepping into worlds different from my own and I'm sure that children's literature doesn't have a complete monopoly on good literary fantasy.

So I'm hoping to expand my reading list - if you have any suggestions, please let me know!

Looking Forward To...

2007-07-27T10:28:00.000-07:00

Becoming Jane, starring Anne Hathaway, is going to be released August tenth...and I cannot wait to see it.

Here's the link to check out the trailers and other film related items - www.becomingjane-themovie.com...

If you like Jane Austen's novels (I do!) and Anne Hathaway's acting (I do!), then you'll be as excited about this movie as I am...

Why Didn't Ben Franklin Think of This One?

2007-07-23T05:53:00.000-07:00

The newest proverb around our house, courtesy of Sean's newest try to convince me that I should really wake up before seven am:

"Get up! It's morning! I need breakfast! Mommy, don't sleep on the sun!"

I'll definitely be turning that one against him when he's fifteen and convinced that ten-thirty on a Saturday is soooo early...

A Beautiful Thing

2007-07-19T14:35:00.001-07:00

If I were Julie Andrews in a swirly skirt and musically gifted children in my charge, singing of my favorite things during a thunderstorm - this, dear friends, would be one of the first items I'd melodically appreciate...

Love This.

Basically, it's like Netflix for books...though the company has been around for a while, I just discovered it via a mention on the Publisher's Weekly website. The cheapest package is $9.99 a month - and for that, you can have two books sent to you as many times as you can fit in during thirty days...free shipping, no late charges, and a large inventory from which to choose. I love knowing that new books are heading towards me...and since it's so easy to browse, I found myself looking at authors I've never heard of before. With one easy click, I can add them to my list and poof! Broadened horizons.

If you're a book lover (especially if you're a book lover with kids who don't exactly have the patience for long, leisurely trips through the grown-up sections of the library), this could be just the thing for you.

A Letter

2007-07-17T06:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Blog,

It must be said. You, dearest Blog, are covered with dust and layers of loneliness. You're not meeting my eyes right now - could it be that you feel abandoned? Do you resent that you've been left to fend for yourself in cyberspace?
I take full responsibility and I offer my deepest apology. I do, however, have a rather wonderful excuse.
The novel is finished. It is, of course, still in need of lots of reviews and edits - but I finally wrote the end. In order to get to that point, I had to put all of my concentration into writing....which resulted in my absence from you. But it's done - and now, during the ensuing search for an agent (yikes!), I will have more quality time for you.

Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Love, Christie

Indulgences

2007-06-20T19:00:00.000-07:00

Father's Day weekend was a blast. It was so fun, in fact, that the boys and I had a spontaneous mini-vacation that only ended this afternoon.

We celebrated with Neil and his dad on Friday night...and Saturday morning, after his flight to Colorado left (his band has been playing for a church youth camp all week), we headed up to my hometown to visit with my family. Whenever I'm back there, I have this urge to just stay - there's this wonderful mix of past and present that I don't have anywhere else. There are aunts and uncles, cousins and grandparents - it's an entire community of family that sort of makes coming back here to our house seem a little lonely. And, of course, eating Sunday lunch made by the hands of my grandmother, mother, and my mom's sister makes anything I attempt to cook seem colorless and just plain sad in comparison. If I could commute two hours every Sunday for that meal...I'm telling you it'd be worth the cost of the gas.

As the boys get older, it gets easier to travel - when they were more on the side of babyhood than toddlerhood, it felt like every road trip was a precarious, daredevil experiment (will they cry all night in someone else's house? will they spit up on some one's carpet? will they scream every time someone picks them up?). But now interruptions in routines don't bother them as much - during the past two visits, as a matter of fact, they've barely paid any attention to me at all. They love playing with my little cousins and wrestling with my uncles, talking to my aunts and grandmothers, running through the yard after the go-carts and looking at my grandparents' apple trees and grape-vines...and I love watching them discover how fabulously fun and lovable our family members are.

And now...I haven't posted any pictures in a while, and I borrowed a few from my mom's digital stash...so here are some faces to accompany all of the names.

This is Sean, loving the Mexican food that my aunt and Mom made on Saturday evening. It really was a forget-about-the-fork-and-just-eat-it-by-the-handful kind of good.

Christian felt the same way about the Oreo cake we had on Sunday. You can see that Sean's anxiously waiting for his piece back there.

This was during our last visit - Christian was trying to help my brother out after the go-cart ran out of gas. He's my Hercules.

My siblings - Mandy, Jeremy, and Hannah. Aren't they good-lookin', all dressed up for church?

A few months ago - Sean and my mom.

Quintessential Dad humor. This picture cracks me up.

And I'll leave you with a few big smiles...

Generation Gap

2007-06-12T16:05:00.000-07:00

My little brother is spending this entire week with us, which is a lot of fun. My parents are away for a church conference, my youngest sister is with an aunt and uncle in order to babysit their kids during work hours, and my other sister is busy with her job (this is definitely the first time the younger set has all been separated like this - I'm sure my mom will be happy to have her little flock whole again!). It's cool to have Jeremy here - Sean and Christian love playing with their uncle and I'm having a blast getting to have one-on-one time with him. I haven't spent this much time with him since before I left home - which means he was about three years old. He's ten now, so you can be sure that his interests have changed. For example, he no longer gets excited about Blue's Clues and he can take care of his own bathroom activities. Sometimes change is good. Hee.
Anyway, I'm still unpacking boxes here in the new house, and yesterday I found my yearbook from my fourth grade year. Since Jeremy just finished the fourth grade, I thought he might find it interesting to look at my fourth grade picture...he did think that it was pretty funny (I'm definitely all big glasses and feathered bangs).
Here's what wasn't funny: he looked through some of the pages and pointed to a candid classroom shot. In total disbelief - "Your teachers used chalkboards? How old is this yearbook?"
Uh-huh. Thanks, little brother. I suddenly saw myself through his eyes...and he made me recall times in elementary school when my friends would talk about their older brothers and sisters who were married and had kids...and I'd think man, those people are old.
(Deep, deep sigh) Yep. Officially - that's me.

Another Example of How the Best Things In Life Are Free

2007-06-11T15:03:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, my dad was one of those people who would tune his radio in the car to (groans and many rolls of the eyes by my former teenage self) am radio. AM. Talk shows, interviews, weather, music (without words!). And even if he stayed on the FM dial, he'd listen to public radio stations. I can't say that I minded the classical or jazz stations - I've always been a music lover, whatever the style, and my favorite pieces for the piano were the classical ones...however, I felt it my fourteen year old duty to declare myself bored to tears by the rest of it.
Of course the older I got, the more I began to actually listen and enjoy what I was hearing. And now I am officially an addict of the beautiful NPR.
They have a little bit of everything - check out the website and I'm sure you'll find something in your line of interest.
But - here is my new source of bliss. When I'm busy with my hands or fed up with the circles my own mind spins, I can listen to incredibly talented actors read short stories to live audiences...they always pick wonderful stories, both classic and contemporary. I've never been one to listen to audio books (I'd rather have the book in my hands), but these are perfect for chores around the house. Instead of grumbling because I'd rather be reading or doing something beneficial for my brain than mopping the floor, I can happily bring out the mop. Now I can clean and 'read' at the same time.
It's a beautiful, beautiful thing. NPR and Swiffer are just making cleaning downright fun. (And so when an old friend asked me on the phone the other day if I'm being a good housewife [she's a rather compulsive cleaner who branded me as a hopeless closet slob during our dorm-room experience in college] I could smile and truthfully answer - why, yes, yes I am. I've become an absolute Donna Reed.)

For Your Fancy

2007-06-08T08:51:00.001-07:00

In the course of researching my current work in progress, there are a few key areas that have captured my imagination.

My favorites, if I had to choose, would be the legends that revolve around a certain section of Chapel Hill. When I attended UNC, my dorm was on the very edge of North campus, across from a wonderful historical district (another side of the dorm had the marvelous Paul Green Theatre, site of my work-study job, and the other had the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery - a most fascinating stretch of history). Anyway, my dorm-mates and I would cross over to go walking/jogging/procrastinating in the historical district on this stretch of residential dream-fodder...stately old houses, friendly old trees, and amazing gardens...but all sort of naturally grown. There is none of the immaculate, matching, obviously methodically planned feel a lot of modern neighborhoods have.

One day we kept following the path at the end of Gimghoul Lane until it went uphill into the forest...which immediately makes you feel as if you've stepped far away from Chapel Hill, NC. Wikipedia says that Glandon Forest is a mystical place inhabited by knights and miscreants...there's an actual cliff - a plethora of trees and flowers - and a castle.

Obviously, this is something you don't stumble across every day of the week. My mind began spinning and I had to know - how does something like this castle fall in the midst of small-town North Carolina?

It so happens that this castle was built in 1924 (legend has the stone was put into place by French artisans) at the wish of the Order of the Gimghoul...a secret society founded in 1889 and made up of UNC's most prominent male students and faculty. The Order was founded on the principles of Arthurian chivalry and knighthood....and most importantly, on the tragic story of Peter Dromgoole.

There's a large, flat rock close to the castle - large enough to comfortable seat a few people - and it's covered with a red stain. I know it's there - I've seen it myself. Where did the stain come from?

It started with a young student from Virginia attending the university in 1833. His name was Peter Dromgoole and in the spring of his freshman year, he fell in love with a beautiful girl named Fanny. They'd meet on the wooded cliff near campus, sitting on 'their' rock and whispering all of those things people newly in love whisper...and everything was going just as planned until Peter noticed a friend of his looking a little too closely at his Fanny. Jealousy and indignation took Peter over as this friend began to make his feelings known...and a duel was planned.

They met at midnight on the cliff, their friends all there to bear witness - but things spun out of control and Peter was killed. They hastily moved his body from the rock where he lay bleeding and buried him in a shallow grave.

Fanny had no idea what had happened - daily she would return to 'their' rock, wondering where the red stain had come from - her heart breaking when Peter failed to meet her.

Legend says that the lovers haunt their rock and their forest...and I wonder if they ever run into the other famous ghost of UNC, an Irish writer named Jack who died in the 1930s of alcoholism and is said to roam down Gimghoul Lane and through the Old Chapel Hill Cemetery looking for company.

So a secret society was founded on the tragedy of young love...and the castle is a tangible memorial to that long ago sorrow...it's enough to keep my imagination spinning!

If you'd like to find out a little bit more for yourself (there are actual public records available on the Order of the Gimghoul, which reveals those first members), click!

Sometimes it's All I Can do to Not Fall Over

2007-06-06T05:43:00.000-07:00

Neil took his four day motorcycle course this past weekend, which means that he's finally able to ride the bike that has been sitting in the garage for a few months now and that I am finally able to have the (predicted) cold sweats when he decides to zoom away with nothing around his body except air. It didn't help that when he bought the thing, pretty much everyone I told (including his own father) immediately said - he has life insurance, right? Yeah. Thanks for the reassurance.
So yesterday he decided that he wanted the boys and me to watch as he rode down the street and back...Christian is absolutely fascinated by anything that has wheels and moves, so he was ecstatic. However...Sean is a different sort of child - the kind that is leery of anything too loud or too fast. (In other words, he's just like me.)
We were all about 'hey, watch Daddy on the motorcycle!' and, once the engine was turned off, 'hey, watch Christian sit on the bike with Daddy!'
This is when Sean walked up to the motorcycle and said : "Hey, I've got a great idea! Watch me leave it alone!" And he walked back into the garage.
Three years old and a developed sense of sarcasm. My work here, good people of the blogosphere, is obviously done.

Yikes to the Millionth Power

2007-05-22T06:00:00.000-07:00

I was all set to write a post today about this past weekend's yard sale and the trip to the new house I made afterwards (because I found honeysuckle growing all along the back border of our property and was whooshed away by the scent like I was Proust eating a madeleine), and I wanted to head over to the Tea And Madeleines site to put in a few thoughts as I've somehow emerged from the end of Swann's Way, but - BUT...

Our move date was just changed - from one and a half weeks away to tomorrow and Thursday.

My first reaction is to go hide with Proust and my laptop somewhere no one can find me.

It's going to be a whirlwind of a week, folks. Fortunately, Neil's boss is the person selling us the house, so he automatically has been given these two days off...but I'm not sure if he can move our gigantic furniture with only my help. We're going to need to enlist recruits.

I've cleaned out a lot of the clutter we're not taking with us (and we did sell the dining room table and chairs that we wanted to leave behind), but as for the rest of it? I've packed maybe six or seven boxes.

So, yeah. Yikes.

I guess I better head off to make sure we're going to have electricity in the new place and other such necessities...hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...

Spring Training - It's Not Just For Baseball

2007-05-21T06:50:00.000-07:00

At the Relief Journal website, there has been an amazing forum created for writers. There are critique groups, blogging abilities, chat options....it's just getting started, but it already has a good dynamic. The forum runners are sponsoring a spring training for the Nanowrimo project, which takes place in November and challenges those participating to write 50, 000 words in one month. I've never participated in Nanowrimo, but I'm thinking that I'll be all done with the current wip and awaiting replies from agents by November, so a jump start on something new will be good. Anyway, the challenge over at Relief is to write 10, 000 words in seven days (the week of June 3rd). I'm going to participate because I feel like my wip will be done by that date and I'll need some major separation from it before going back to make it into a second (ie, better) draft. Plus, it'll be a fun goal to push towards - and knowing that there are others doing the same thing is good motivation. Writers don't often get to feel like they're a part of a team sport, and this gives a bit of that feeling.
For the first stage of this process, we were encouraged to get our writing gear together - our computer of choice, needed notebooks, pens, etc. I'm sharing here the list I put together...(it was a fun list to make, by the way. I definitely encourage all writers to examine their own routines every now and then just so they'll know what they need and have it handy. But, as so many of the great ones have said, don't use an obstructed routine as an excuse to not write. Even if it's with a napkin and a crayon at Ruby Tuesday's, sometimes you just have to do it. Just write. The list is just my own ideal conditions.)

Digital Capture -
I type all of my drafts on my trusty laptop, which has been with me for many moons. It's like a favorite pair of jeans - once you get it broken in, you hope that it lasts forever. I am, however, in the process of convincing my husband that I need one of those sweet Alphasmart devices for the ability to write anywhere and everywhere on a couple of AA batteries (it seems only fair, since he just bought a Playstation 3 :) ).

Software -
Word. Again, I like it because it's familiar. I do back things up with Google docs - even though those files can only hold so much text and I have to split larger projects, it feels safe to have an extra copy online. No matter what happens to the laptop, Google will still stand (I, um, hope.)

Analog capture -
Cheap notebooks with fun covers. I've never been able to freely write in expensive and elegant journals - I can't stop feeling that the better the covers, the more perfect (i.e., inhibited) my writing must be. I also go through a lot of notebooks, because all of my initial drafts are hand-written for the most part - I do my best rewriting as I type. Plus, it can be dangerous to tote a laptop around when there are toddlers catapulting through the air. I also have bound index cards, for random thoughts and scene ideas.

Magic Pen -
This depends on the project. I go through moods. I inserted all of my new scenes for the novel in fine-point magic marker. It just felt like it should be green. For the training session, I picked up a couple of simple ball point pens. Okay to lose, good ink flow if I manage to keep track of them. For the notebook and pens, I have a snazzy white leather purse. It's big enough for the notebook to perfectly fit into it and small enough to throw over my shoulder when I'm leaving the house.

Misc-
Other things I need to gear up for a good writing session :
At some point in the process, coffee is always a good bet. I think it's more about the routine than the actual coffee itself...there's something comforting about that hot mug in my hands while I'm staring at the screen. It says to my brain - 'Start.'

When my brain slows down and I need some inspiration, I turn to the shelf I've designated for my favorite books, both novels and writing guides. I've found that reading even one chapter of a fabulous novel or a book on craft will get the flame rekindled. (I adore Natalie Goldberg's books on writing for this purpose - even though I don't agree with all of her theology, she puts a fresh spin on aspects of the craft and does it in short chapters. Some of these actually have suggested exercises at the end, which can whip writer's block out of the way.)

And, of course, there's the handy-dandy iPod. I like to use this when my kids are watching a DVD, having one of those contests where they attempt to out scream one another, or Neil is playing aforementioned Playstation 3 at top volume. I generally prefer silence, but to combat noise pollution I have playlists waiting for action.

If you feel like making a list of your own and are willing to share (I like peeking into the writing routines of others - fresh ideas can always, always improve my own process!), let me know - I'll be more than glad to provide a link from here to there.

Happy Monday!

To Have and to Hold, To Let Go and Move On

2007-05-18T06:45:00.000-07:00

How do we accumulate so much stuff? It astounds me - I've been storing things in a corner of the garage for this weekend's yard sale, taking things out of the house as I've cleaned and packed...the pile gradually grew, but it didn't seem overwhelming. Until yesterday, that is, when I actually began to spread it out and looked through all of the stuff already in the garage that I need to go through. And this is after the gigantic donation we made to the Salvation Army before Christmas.
I have to admit that this is mostly my fault. I'm a pack rat. Always have been, probably always will be (at heart, at least). This is partially an inherited thing, as my dad is the exact same way, but it might also be a result of lots of moving. Maybe clinging to my stuff was (is) a way to feel like the new place is really my home...I can take things with me, even if I can't take people or places or that swing on my Nanny's front porch...objects come to life for me because of what they represent. (Living hours away from any of my family probably doesn't help this attachment-condition I have.)
I laugh at myself because I get so emotionally attached to material things - the Book-It pins from an elementary school reading program, that pair of pajama bottoms my grandmother bought one summer, the quadrillions of Cabbage Patch dolls and stuffed animals I can't bear to part with (but that rabbit was an Easter gift! that teddy bear was from Christmas '99!)....and now it's not just my stuff. Now it's that lamp that was in Sean's room when he was a baby...that park guide from a trip with Neil...a Winnie-the-Pooh outfit that Christian looked so adorable in...ah. I know that these things are just things...and yet...I love going through a box and having each item bring up a dormant memory. I love that I still have notes from high school friends that we wrote to each other during classes and diaries dating back to second grade...
I guess the issue is that I cannot possibly keep every little memento from my life. I need to do the grown-up thing and prioritize. Sean and Christian's christening outfits? Okay to keep. A bottle of shampoo from the hotel we stayed at on our honeymoon? Not so much.
So here's a goal for this new move: lighten up!
And a goal for my life in general: remember that the people you love are close to you even if you don't see them every day or keep the candle from that birthday cake fourteen years ago....

This and That

2007-05-09T15:30:00.001-07:00

I've been a bit m.i.a. over the past little while...somehow, I've gotten wrapped up in my work-from-home job, the world of my novel, and house de-cluttering. So by the time I've done all of that stuff and think to myself, hey - isn't it time for a little quality world wide web time?, it's actually b - e - d time.
But here I am, and while I'm here I'll share a few of this week's thoughts...

Gilmore Girls is officially in its last season...which means next week is the series finale. Sad. Sad. Sad. I've been watching this show since it first began, and I have the fondest memories of Tuesday nights - a night that takes a witty, lovable show as an excuse to build up routines...coffee and brownies with Carrie, dancing to the theme song with the boys, mid-episode and post-episode squealing with my mom/sisters/Betsy/Carrie...I don't know. It has just been an hour to relax, guilt-free, and let someone else do the entertaining. I'll miss it.

I'm on a roll with the novel. Really getting that draft fully worked out and typed up...but I. Hate. Writing. A. Synopsis. It's particularly driving me nuts because my novel unfolds through the alternating perspectives of four characters whose stories end up intertwining. Attempting to explain this in a catchy, well-written, one page query? It's making me throw things, people. It's making me dangerous.

So Christian's latest habit has become a dangerous one. We're mid-potty training, which is just one of my least favorite parenting activities. Once it's over, I'm sure it'll be the greatest thing that ever happened, but in the meantime...I spend way way way way way waaaay too much time in the bathroom. He has started to become really uncomfortable in his pull-up if he wets it just a teensy bit - which I know is a good thing, but the instant it happens he just rips it off. Which means at random times of the day, a naked two year old will run by me. He thinks it hilarious, of course, to conduct high speed naked chases through the house. My biggest problem with all of this is that when you have a spontaneously naked kid, there are inevitable naked sort of accidents. I'm sure you understand.

And Sean? He has recently discovered a liking for water guns. My husband has recently discovered a liking for filling those guns for water and laughing while our three year old stages sniper attacks (on me. of course.). Best moment of the month? Stealing one of the said water guns and squirting Neil right in the face. Hee!

The biggest news is this: the Lamberts are relocating. Yes, that's right. We have bought a new house and are moving...um, down the street. Literally. So a lot of the house de-clutter has been pre-packing prep. A yard sale looms in the near future. I'm extremely excited and thankful for this new blessing...I feel like we have plenty of room in this house to grow and spread out...so it's a happy happy God-thing. But, as moving always is, it's also a bit overwhelming and difficult to manage with Neil at work 12 hours a day and the boys eagerly unpacking whatever I pack ('cause that's a fun game, you know). But....new house. Yay!

That's going to be it for now, specifically because Christian just crawled into my lap and fell asleep, so I'm typing one-handed. Goodnight, moon!

Dropping the Blogging Ball

2007-05-08T15:20:00.000-07:00

I've sort of lapsed in the update department...life in its general messiness has interfered with the usual schedule, but things should be getting back to normal around here soon. The rebound begins tomorrow...and hopefully, there will still be people around to witness it.

When God Colors Outside of the Lines

2007-04-25T11:50:00.000-07:00

In the early-ish morning, I was watering my roses and daisies using the water hose (and watering myself in the process. I really need to remember that we need a nozzle that actually completely fits onto the hose.) I was having a pretty good time, actually, enjoying the warm morning and all of my pink and yellow blooms...and I noticed that every time I sent the spray of water soaring in this certain spot by the dogwood tree, a clear rainbow suddenly appeared...just glittering there within the suspended droplets...
I know it's the laws of light and prisms and this and that...but whatever the explanation man has come up with, I prefer to think of rainbows as mysterious, color infused whispered promises of God stretched across the sky...and when they show up in the spray of my average (leaking) water hose, I just have to smile - delighted and dazzled.

Child-Like Faith

2007-04-25T11:24:00.000-07:00

Sean just rummaged up an old Winnie the Pooh VHS tape from the back of my closet. He held it out for my inspection - "Can we watch this?"
As our VCR hasn't worked in...oh, about two years, I had to say - "I'm sorry, Sean. That movie won't work on our tv."
His response - "Sure it can, Mommy. We just have to believe."

In the face of such pure three-year-old rainbows and storybook logic, I am left speechless.
And feeling pretty bad that I couldn't somehow use a paperclip and a piece of gum or something to make that VCR work for him...

Things That Make Me Go Mmmmm

2007-04-24T09:08:00.000-07:00

Today was grocery shopping day...I thought I'd share some of my current product addictions...maybe because I haven't had lunch yet and I'm hungry. It is 12:30. My stomach is on a schedule, people.

The latest thing I've tried is the Microwavable Digiorno Crispy Crust pizza - the grilled chicken and vegetable. It is absolutely fantastic - and the boys gobble it up (with the red peppers and spinach. that's the magic of saying 'pizza'.)

Squash. Lightly steamed with a bit of seasoned salt...or the good southern way - fried with a crunchy outside...

These tomatoes are seasoned with basil, oregano, and garlic. Sean and I are huge fans of pasta, and the easiest thing in the world is to boil the pasta, sprinkle Parmesan over the tomatoes (bake at 400 degrees for 10 minutes[thanks for that Rachel Ray tidbit, Hannah] ), and combine.

What kid doesn't love a juice box? Sean and Christian think that they are the coolest items ever. When they're acting like hard headed toddlers and are showing reluctance to come inside after playtime in the back yard, the words juice box will get them running for the door. And I love these, in particular, because it's fruit juice combined with purified water. I still mix all of their juice with water, to make sure they don't overload on sugar, and I love that Mott's does the work for me. Plus, the boxes are super cute!

If you haven't tried a Blue Bunny single, you should. The ice cream is an out of this world sort of delicious, and the size makes it perfectly portioned...so you can have a sensible indulgence. No guilt!

Crystal Light On the Go Packets...they help me drink enough water and get rid of my craving for soda. I like most of the flavors, but I'm currently on a Fruit Punch kick.

Everyone knows that Cheerios are good for you - and these Fruity Cheerios are still healthy for the kids and particularly tasty. I'm not sure who eats more of them, me or the kiddos...

And last, but certainly not least, a magnificent invention pointed out to me by Carrie - the fat free brownie. Trust me, Carrie and I are the queens of brownie and coffee nights...so we've tested our share of chocolate. When she said that she had tried these No-Pudge brownies made with vanilla yogurt, I was skeptical...but she said that they were good, and so I had to try them. She was right. GUILT FREE FUDGY CHOCOLATE BROWNIES. Does it get any better than that? I don't think so, blogosphere. I really don't think so.

Moving Day?

2007-04-23T08:31:00.000-07:00

So a little while ago, through a crack in the closed blinds, movement caught my eye. I looked out and saw Cat crossing the ditch that separates our front yard from the road...she paused, dropped something gray, and picked it back up in her mouth.

My first thought - is that a kitten?

I rushed out to the porch to find all three kittens removed from their box...and she has disappeared through a thicket of trees.

I tried to figure out where she went, but I couldn't spot her again.

Little tiny kittens, with opening eyes and soft baby fur - where have you gone? Why did MommyCat take you away?

I hope that you come home soon.

In Memory

2007-04-20T07:23:00.000-07:00

Buzzdroid's challenge.

If you have a blog, please accept buzzdroid's challenge to remember Virginia Tech's victims and families today, April twentieth.

Here's a quote from Thornton Wilder's The Bridge of San Luis Rey that I came across during research for my novel this morning. It seems to apply:

"A witness to the deaths, wanting to make sense of them and explain the ways of God to his fellow human beings, examined the lives of the people who died, and these words were said by someone who knew the victims, and who had been through the many emotions, and the many stages, of bereavement and loss.
"But soon we will die, and all memories of those five will have left earth, and we ourselves shall be loved for a while and forgotten. But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary for love. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love. The only survival, the only meaning."

From The Brains of Others

2007-04-18T12:26:00.000-07:00

It's a breezy, bluesy day here in small-town America. We've done the errand running thing today, and I'm hoping the afternoon will be filled with peaceful house straightening, new flower planting (yay!), and at least a solid hour of novel writing.

I'm a bit tired, which I can blame directly on Neil...he brought home the first season of Lost last night and we both stayed up too late watching the first few episodes. I've never seen any of the show and wasn't sure that I'd like it...but it's just so intriguing. Three and a half (I fell asleep) episodes in, I want to know what happens to these people. And why there's a polar bear in the jungle. And what in the world that mysterious monstrous creature is...

Anyway, since my own brain seems to be full of randomness, I figure I'll share with you a few interesting quotes that have challenged me lately...

"And know this: whenever you find yourself writing a single word or phrase or page dutifully and with boredom, then leave it out. Something is wrong. It is dragged in. It isn't your true self talking." ~Brenda Ueland

Also from Brenda Ueland - "For in fiction, Chekhov said, you can pose a question (about poverty, morality, or whatever it is) but you must not answer it. As soon as you answer it, the readers know you are lying, ie forcing your characters to prove something."

And this interesting view of story in our lives...
"You're given a mythology in this life, the way you're given a body, a family, a country. You can reject it if you like - starve it, laugh in its face, run away into exile - but it's still your mythology. There's always the chance of redemption." ~Ariel Gore, from The Traveling Death and Resurrection Show

To elaborate just a bit on the quote on mythology...here's part of the expanded definition provided by Wikipedia: Myths are narratives about divine or heroic beings, arranged in a coherent system, passed down traditionally, and linked to the spiritual or religious life of a community, endorsed by rulers or priests. Once this link to the spiritual leadership of society is broken, they lose their mythological qualities and become folktales or fairy tales. In folkloristics, which is concerned with the study of both secular and sacred narratives, a myth also derives some of its power from being more than a simple "tale", by comprising an archetypical quality of "truth".

Looking at life in 'story' terms is appealing to me...maybe because my entire life, one way or another has been inundated in language, in the arcs of messages. Reading, obviously, brought me into this way of thinking...but I also attribute it to the years listening to my grandfathers and my dad preaching...the Bible, in itself, is a hugely taken for granted literary resource. And when ministers use it to convey some message - it's a powerful thing. Jesus Himself used parables to get ideas across to people - something in us, innately, responds to stories.
So do we each have our own mythology, our own story? I think so. Here are a few more quotes, taken from the pages of The Sacred Romance, that say exactly what I wish to say about all of this.

"We live in narrative, we live in story. Existence has a story shape to it. We have a beginning and an end, we have a plot, we have characters." ~Eugene Peterson

"Our loss of confidence in a larger story is the reason we demand instant gratification. We need a sense of being alive now, for now is all we have. Without a past that was planned for us and a future that waits for us, we are trapped in the present. There's not enough room for our souls in the present." ~John Eldridge, Brent Curtis

On scripture, Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen "...or do you see scripture as being a cosmic drama - creation, fall, redemption, future hope - dramatic narratives that you can apply to all areas of life?"

Frederick Buechner ~ "It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things, too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusions and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name...That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still."

And a final note by Brent Curtis and John Eldridge that explains the importance of sharing both our personal experiences and those stories simmering in the crock-pot of our brains...

"It becomes crucial that we become a generation of storytellers who are both recapturing the glory and joy of the Sacred Romance even as we tell each other our particular stories, so that we can help each other, through God's spirit, see His plan of redemption at work in us."

Inadequate Words

2007-04-17T12:03:00.000-07:00

I'm sure that we've all seen the footage of yesterday's shooting at Virginia Tech. I was too lost in the waiting room of H&R Block and the tax deadline to watch the news yesterday, so I didn't hear about it until after nine, when Neil got home.

It's always surreal when something like this happens...I know that we're all just so sad, watching the families of those who have lost their loved ones, watching those left behind trying to puzzle out how something like this could happen.

I don't have any wise words or insights. It's a terrible, terrible thing...all I know to do is to pray for these families - and to say, I am so, so sorry for your loss.

History of My Birthday According to the Vast Knowledge of Wikipedia

2007-04-16T15:10:00.000-07:00

Luisa tagged me to play this little historical game...and I couldn't resist. A, I love trivia. Especially historical trivia. Especially historical trivia about my very own birthday. And B, I was having a case of writer's block. So the tag was pure serendipity!

1. Go to Wikipedia and enter your birthday without the year:

August 4

2. List three events that occurred that day:

a)1821 - Atkinson and Alexander publish the Saturday Evening Post for the first time as a weekly newspaper.
b) 1944 - "A tip from a Dutch informer leads the Gestapo to a sealed-off area in an Amsterdam warehouse where they find Anne Frank and her family. Her diary was scattered all over the floor and eventually published by her father to become her well- known diary." When I discovered that this was the date of Anne's capture, after reading the diary when I was about nine years old, I felt like my birth date was forever besmirched. That diary made the Holocaust so real - here was this girl, just like me, scribbling in her diary...and she was killed because of hate. It's incomprehensible.
c)1971 - The US launches first satellite into lunar orbit from a manned spacecraft. Ah. Space travel. Did anyone else have to describe what the year 2000 would be like while in elementary school? I'm pretty sure I included easy access to the moon in that description...

3. List two important birthdays:

1792- Percy Bysshe Shelley, English poet...what a life. If you've never read all of the rather (semi-sordid) dramatic adventures of Shelley's life, you're missing out.
1900-Elizabeth_Bowes-Lyon, Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother. Today was my first time hearing this - during the second world war, "her seemingly indomitable spirit provided moral support to the British public, so much so that, in recognition of her role as a propaganda tool, Adolf Hitler described her as "the most dangerous woman in Europe." Wow.

4. List one death:

1741 - Andrew Hamilton, American lawyer. I love this quote from his defense of the press, saying that it holds "a liberty both of exposing and opposing tyrannical power by speaking and writing truth."

5. List one holiday or observance:

In El Salvador, it's Transfiguration Bank Holiday. I couldn't figure out what Transfiguration Bank Holiday actually is, but it sounds interesting. Or at least like people might get a day off out of school for it...

Now I'm tagging...Carrie and Betsy - please come out to play!

Brand Spankin' New Babies

2007-04-13T11:46:00.001-07:00

Cat, appropriately, had kittens on Easter Sunday. Three, in fact - two completely white and one gray, just like her. She actually had them on the front porch on her bed in the middle of a family cook-out, so it was a big event. They fit in the palm of my hand and are not doing much besides sleeping and crawling all over each other in their house (also known as the recycling bin).

Normally this would be a fun thing - kittens are so cute. Adorable and cuddly...but. This. Is. Me. And the thought of new kittens? It makes me anxious.

I should start with how we came to have Cat in the first place. It was an accident, from start to finish. (I know that Cat isn't what you'd call an imaginative name for, well, a cat- but things didn't work out when I tried to actually give her a real title. I called her Scarlett [as in O'Hara]for days - a, she has amazing green eyes and b, she proved herself to be beautiful and strong -but Sean heard me call her Scarlett and I was thoroughly scolded. "Mommy, dat is not Scarwett. Her name is Cat. " Of course. Pardon me. Anyway - she has remained Cat. ) I found her underneath our front porch steps about a year and a half ago, barely more than a kitten and with an injury that looked permanent. Her entire back leg was just hanging on and much of her backside was just exposed muscle...she had been through a rough encounter with a car or a dog or something. We decided to feed her and make her comfortable until we found a place to take her...she wasn't scared of us and seemed happy as could be to have attention. And...almost two years later we are still feeding her. She lives on the front porch and follows us around outside like she's a puppy. I am still doing my best to not get attached to her (or, at least, to not acknowledge the fact that I'm attached to her).

Shall I explain? I will - but please don't judge me wholly upon the facts about to be revealed. I do not allow any of it to happen on purpose. I love animals, I really do.

But I'm not allowed to have pets. Let's talk about a little thing my family calls 'the curse'. To be fair, I have to warn you that some of the following facts are sad. And maybe even a bit PG-13. Okay, a few highlights of Christie's Pet History:

It started long ago. Like all children, there came a time when I wanted a pet. My mom has never been a big fan of fur-shedding animals in the house, so we started out with a simple goldfish.

24 hours. Fish, meet toilet bowl.

Now, I know what you're thinking. A fish is a fish. Fish die pretty easily. True enough.

Let's go on.The next animal we took in was a beautiful rabbit - black and white with the cutest tail. It had belonged to my friend Kristen, who had an array of animals at her place - rabbits, horses, dogs, etc., etc. I took it home and my dad made a wonderful home for it in the back yard - a large cage with plenty of room for Scamper.

One afternoon, I skipped to Scamper's cage to deliver dinner and water...it took a minute to register that part of the cage has been broken. When I looked inside, Scamper's head was lying oddly near her food dish...and the rest of her body was on the other side of the cage. She was decapitated. I have never run so fast in my life as I did that day...I think I screamed all the way back into our house.

So. Next. Cat. Ferocious dog next door. End of cat.

Another rabbit. We had to give this one away when we moved...my uncle took him and sadly informed us months later that he had been acting strangely and had some sort of tumor. He'd have to be put to sleep.

I'll fast forward to high school.My boyfriend gave me a kitten. She was gray and teeny...I named her Belle and let her sleep on my pillow. She arrived potty-trained (um, why can't we receive children that way?) and I loved having her around...however, my mother didn't appreciate kitten claws in her furniture. She was given the boot to the fenced in back yard.

I didn't take it well, and neither did she. She whined at the back door constantly, and I was all upset thinking about how confused and lonely she must have felt. So I decided to give her up.

What happened next was no one's fault...it was just one of those things that happen.To the absolute horror of those kind people who took her in, she 007'ed into the clothes dryer during a round of laundry. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

Since I've moved out of the house, my family has tried the dog thing...they have come to sad ends, as well.

So those fragments of my history should prove why I'm shocked that Cat is still around and why I'm so nervous about these babies. I really need to find a shelter that will take them after they're weaned...perhaps some nice folks can adopt them.

I'm trying to enjoy them while I'm here, but I'm sort of reminding myself of how I acted when the boys were newborns...sort of constantly peeking in to make sure that they're still okay. I know that I'll eventually have to get over this scared of pets thing...the boys both adore animals, especially dogs. And I know they'll want one of their own, some day.

Maybe I'm being silly. If I really tried to analyze it, I might say that it's a symptom of a deeper sort of worry about death and separation in general...so with that thought, I guess I have to look at this thing like everything else.

This world we live in is a temporary state of being...no one can predict tomorrow. We have to live the day we have now...we have to love and give of ourselves while we can...in spite of the possible heart aches. Hmmm. This life thing is risky business, isn't it?

So I'm guardian to three new Easter-ish kittens. And maybe I'll just go ahead and like them.

Yummylicious

2007-04-10T17:37:00.000-07:00

There is nothing quite like devouring a bowl of strawberries...with cool whip, with chocolate, with a light sprinkle of sugar...if people had official fruits and trees and flowers and such, like states, the strawberry would be my official fruit. (And while we're on the fruit thing, you should click http://humaninspired.blogspot.com/2007/04/would-you-like-to-sample-our-avocado.html to learn a little fruit trivia fresh from California...)

I have officially taught Christian the joy in this deliciousness. He ate so many strawberries for dessert tonight that I think his fingertips and his chin may be permanently dyed red. Literally, strawberry after strawberry after strawberry...going "mmmmm" the entire time. (I think I may have heard a mumbled version of "delicioso" in there, too. Thanks, Dora the Explorer.) So I have handed down the strawberry obsession.

At times like these, I feel that I am fulfilling my duty as his guide in this big ol' world.

Of Peter Cottontail (and Santa, too)

2007-04-10T14:54:00.000-07:00

On seeing the Easter Bunny at Wal-Mart on Friday -

Sean: "Mommy, why was that Easter Rabbit wearing shoes? Rabbits don't wear shoes."

Ummm...we dress up on Easter, so the Easter Rabbit dresses up with us. Right? I mean, wouldn't that have been a good answer?

Unfortunately, I came up with that answer....yesterday. At the time, I couldn't think of a single thing to do except distract him. ( "Hey, look at that candy the Rabbit gave you! Cool! Can I open it for you? Candy! Yay!" My only other thought was the truth - "Kiddo, that's a really tall dude in a costume. If he didn't have on shoes, you'd see his real human feet instead of big rabbit paws. Plus, this floor is disgusting." [On further thought, why didn't Wal-Mart invest in a costume that had actual rabbit feet instead of letting the really tall dude in the white rabbit costume wear those huge black sneakers? We know you can afford it, Wal-Mart. We all get up to the check out counter with, oh, five items and end up paying forty bucks for it. Every time. Probably several times a month. WE DESERVE PAWS! Or at the very least, a nice shiny pair of dress shoes instead of boat-ish sneakers. Seriously, come ON.])

Ahem.

I'm going to need serious guidance with the Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy/Santa thing if he continues to be this observant. He's three and already asking these things. I've always been torn on this issue anyway...do I let him believe that these characters are for real until he naturally figures it out on his own or do I leave no doubt that they're fun but make believe parts of holidays? If he asks direct questions, I know that I'll have to honestly answer him...I just didn't expect him to start asking these questions so soon.

I remember knowing from an early age that Santa wasn't real, but I still loved the idea of him. I guess that's what matters to me - not that the boys actually believe that there is a physical bunny in a bow tie dropping off a basket of goodies on Easter morning, but that they can retain a fairy tale-ish view of the world...that they can suspend their disbelief enough to join in the fun of it all...I want them to feel free to imagine.

The Post In Which There Is A Sundry of Items

2007-04-05T11:41:00.000-07:00

A In Which The Day Quickly Fades

These were my thoughts when I woke up this morning: I'll get the boys dressed, run over for a quick playdate with their pal Xander, run to the store to finish up Easter necessities (a dozen eggs to color, for one extremely important item), and I'll be home by 3:30 to clean house and have a few hours for reading/playing with Sean's castle/catching up on blogs/etc., etc. etc.
What is it that they say about the best laid plans?
For one thing, I usually underestimate the time it's going to take to get all three of us out of the house. It doesn't take me that long to get dressed and ready to go...but then there are the juice cups to grab, the extra Pull-ups to remember, oh - that box of clothes for Xander, and I know I put my phone down somewhere....
Anyway, by the time everything was packed up in the car (including children), it was almost eleven o'clock. Playtime was fun - we went outside for a while, where their azalea bushes are crazy in bloom, and watched as three kids three and under attempted to play nicely.
We left about two and entered the realm of Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart on a holiday weekend. What was I thinking? Especially about myself, because if I had taken the time to honestly say - I have the hardest time making up my mind about which particular grass to buy for Easter baskets or what color, exactly, I need new toddler socks to be...I might have just gone on home and ventured out after dark when the boys were at home with Neil after his dress rehearsal for the Easter play. But I didn't think it through and so the time-sucking fangs of Wal-Mart - won, yet again.
And when I had just gotten to the register - after waiting for twenty minutes in line - I got this call from Neil:
N- "Hey, where are you?"
me - "Checking out. Finally."
N - "Real quick, get out of line. I need some solid red shorts to go underneath my costume for tonight."
me - "Um. What?"
N - "Solid red shorts. Not too baggy. And not with any markings. To go under the soldier costume."
me - "That's what I thought you said."

Three stores later, I found the appropriate shorts. He has a solo in which he ends up kneeling, so the shorts really were needed, and needed by six pm...but wow. Not the afternoon the kids were looking for, to say the least. They were remarkably well behaved, though, so we all rewarded ourselves with a chocolate chip cookie and Hi-C fruit punch from Subway.
It was well after six o'clock by the time we pulled up in the driveway and by the time I had cleaned up the kitchen, found the rest of Neil's costume stuff, and boiled eggs for coloring later on tonight...it was somehow dark-thirty.

B, In Which Two Sentences Exhibit the Joy of A Carrie-Friend

1. She made double banana pudding, just so she could share.
2. She voluntarily helped me to tuck my newly planted flowers in for the night, to protect them from the frost - literally, under light sheets...and she didn't make me feel that crazy for doing it.

C, In Which I Discuss Reading, Writing, and a Resolution

I've taken a few days off from the novel-writing, to splurge in a bit of a reading-fest. I'm so excited about all of the books lying around the house (from a used-book store run and the library on Tuesday) that it's been way too hard to stick to just one book...I've found myself trying to read five at the same time. You don't, um, get too far like that. I've found that when working on the novel gets a bit frustrating (as it was earlier this week), a good book binge is helpful fuel. I totally and completely concur with that age-old wisdom - if you want to write, you must read. For me, it's especially essential in a dry spell. When I read some really good writing, it makes me excited about language again...it makes me want to try my own hand at the craft.
Anyway, my frustrated post reaped some encouragement, which was much needed and appreciated...and it inspired me to make a decision - I'm going to try to get up an hour earlier than everybody else, at least every other day, for solid writing time. Not a terribly innovative idea, but one that's been difficult to carry out, since...I'm, um, fond of my pillow. I usually don't get to bed until late, so the early morning (pre-kids waking up) thing is something I should probably already be doing but haven't had the will power to try. I figure if I make a public intention to do it, I might be more prone to follow through. So you've seen it here- my way-past-new-year's resolution.

D, In Which I Am Excited About Proust!

So Luisa over at http://www.novembrance.blogspot.com/ posted an entry about how she and a friend were going to re-read In Search of Lost Time, the classic series by Proust. I have never read Proust before, and she piqued my interest with her description and obvious excitement. I checked out Swann's Way and by page two realized that I was definitely going to have to read the entire series. Anyway, we have a page so that we can all discuss the books as we read along...if you're interested in reading the books with us, or just in checking out the discussion, head over to http://www.teaandmadeleines.blogspot.com/.

E, In Which I Ramble About the Nature of Hope

A certain wonderful friend of mine had some high hopes sort of dashed against glaring rocks yesterday. And I've been trying to come up with something comforting to say to her, because I know that she's feeling a bit down...this is all I've managed to come up with.

Hope is a strange thing. We try not to do it sometimes, in order to save ourselves from disappointment (though it's usually still there, down in the basement with the lights turned off and the deadbolt locked)...it's an emotion of anticipation, of belief that the things that we want or need are morphing into reality. When those things don't actually materialize, we can feel let down. Angry that we let ourselves get worked up....maybe even sort of foolish, for indulging in expectation. We tell ourselves that we won't let it happen again - we will work on lowering our expectations.
Don't do it. If we stop hoping - especially when it comes to attaining our dreams - then we are essentially taking away a bit of the belief we hold in ourselves. If you lower your expectations, then you're robbing yourself of greater opportunities...and I know that good-hearted, hard-working people are deserving and capable of handling these greater opportunities. And even if it takes longer than expected, they will come. Don't lose a propensity to hope for marvelous things...sometimes we have to hold onto faith in the unexpected, in the out-of-nowhere grace that life can give. Hope has gotten us to where we are now, in one way or another. It'll get us to the next place.

and F, In Which I Say "So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, goodbye"

(The Sound of Music is on ABC Family all weekend, starting tonight.) So..."I flit, I float, I fleetly flee, I fly. The sun has gone to bed and so must I..."

Hello, Moon

2007-04-05T11:31:00.001-07:00

A few weeks ago, I went on a grocery run one night after Neil got home from work. Sean decided that he wanted to go with me- on the way to the car he stopped and looked straight up into the dark sky. "Mommy," he said, "look at the moon! Look at all the stars!"

So I stopped with him and looked up at the thick spread of stars hanging heavy over us, at the nearly full moon. "I see them," I said. "They're beautiful."

He waved his little hand towards the sky. "Hey, Moon! It's me, Sean!"
I smiled and watched as he kept his eyes trained on the glowing orb. His next declaration was said in an 'I'm 3 years old and offended' indignant sort of way - "Moon! I said hey! Say hey to me!"

A long pause, in which he stared into the sky with a scowl on his face."Say. Hey. To. ME!"

Haven't we all felt like that before?

It's a Christie-ish Sort of Day...

2007-04-03T13:43:00.000-07:00

A Christie-ish sort of day...which means the boys and I had lunch from Chick-fil-a (we love our chicken, as all good Southerners should), followed by a trip to the library(Godwin! Proust! If You Give A Mouse A Cookie!), followed by a perfect cup of coffee (made by yours truly. which for the rest of the world means way, way, way too much sugar), followed by house cleaning while watching an Audrey Hepburn movie (Paris, When It Sizzles)...
It absolutely thrills me that Sean and Christian get excited when I tell them that we're going to the library...Sean randomly told me that he wanted a Blue's Clues holiday book before we got there, and so I let him ask the children's librarian for it...it was his first official request to the librarian. I know it seems like a small step, but to me - he is searching for books. I've somehow communicated to him the joy in that...which is happy, happy, happy. I didn't even mind having to hush him every 3 seconds when he kept yelling about something else so cool that he had seen on a shelf...Christian can't ask for specific books yet, but he sure does do a great job of flipping through all of the kiddie board books and 'talking' about them at the top of his lungs. "Ball!" "Tree!" "Happy Birthday TO you!"
I'm sure the librarians downed a few bottles of Tylenol after we left.

Anyway, today started out in an unexpected discovery...thanks to the mega brain of Google.com...I happened to think of googling my dad's name...I was curious to see if his church web page would pop up. I'm not sure if it did or not - I got distracted when the third search result showed up with his name on a genealogy page. I clicked it and discovered that some distant relation found that side of my family on some side of her family...and so she did the research that took my direct ancestry all the way back to 1776. I didn't have time to fully investigate all of the information, but the coolest thing I've found so far is the actual will of my great (times 5) grandfather, (James) Levi Bailey. He was born in 1776 and died in 1851...his will is on file in the Madison County courthouse. This sort of thing fascinates me in general - to be able to read the actual words of one of my ancestors like this is incredible. Some random facts that I found interesting - Levi served as a captain of the third regiment of the militia from his county in the War of 1812 and Baileys Mountain in Madison County was named for him. I'm sharing the will here because it's such a glimpse into another era of our history...I particularly love the way that he wills away five dollars each to some of his children...and also the "smith tools and still and waggan". I'm excited to poke around a little more into the ol' family tree...it's all of those people falling in love and having children and making lives for themselves that brought me into existence...and my own little munchkins, too. I just wish that there was record of more besides death certificates and marriage dates - I'd love to know the stories behind all of these names. Who were they? What did they make of their lives and what did they think of this world? It's improbable that I'll ever really know - but it certainly is fun to imagine each generation in their time, farming and preaching (as it seems every other generation chose to do), and making their place while they were here. If I could speak to them, I'd have to say thanks - thanks for beginning a heritage for my grandparents, for my dad and his siblings, for me and my own...and for my babies. I hope that I can continue it in a way that would make them proud.
And now enough of my rambling. In his own words, Levi Bailey:

Last will & Testament of Levi Bailey sr Dec'd State of North Carolina March the 31st 1851

Madison County

In the name of God amen, I Levi Bailey seignior do hereby make my last will & testament in manner and form following towit, Knowing myself at this time to be sound in body and memory, my will and Desire is to dispose of what property and estate I now have or may have at my death as follows, and first it is my and desire that my son Levi Baily and his children have three hundred acres of land and.fifty acres on the east joining said lands -2 it is also my will and desire that Elizabeth Crowder and her children have part of the 200 acre tract, all on the west side of the ridge that runs through the plantation where I now live3 and also it is my will and desire that my grandson Levi J Baily have all on the east side of the ridge4 and it is my will and desire that Sarah McMahan,and her children have one hundred acres of land beginning on the corner of the 200 acre tract inculding the building where I now live it being two thirds of a hundred and fifty acre tract and runs from east to west5 and it is also my will and Desire that my grand son James M Bailey have all the lands above the lands of Sarah McMahans first - fifty acres. 2nd, 150 acres. 3rd, 100 acres of land. 4th fifty-acres of land. 5 - also 100 acres of land laying at the head of the branch that I live on6th and it is also my will and desire that Elizabeth Crowder and her children have the tract of land that they now live on contain 130 acres more or less and if I should dye first, it is my will and desire that my wife and the family should live here together till her decease both whites and Blacks, and work together as they formerly have done, and at her decease she can dispose of what she has at her will, and those of my children not mentioned in this will, have all had their parts - towit Allen Bailey Dec. and Nancy Jervis, Dorcas Anderson, Willey C Baily Joyce Holcombe and Polly Holcombe, but these six I will five Dollars a piece at my wifes death what of my property that is left behind, Stock of all kinds to equally divide among four towit - Sarah McMahan Elizabeth Crowder & James M Baily & Levi Bailey Jr and it is also my desire that the Black woman letty be free at my death and my wifes --- and at my wifes death my will and desire is my -son Levi Baily and grandson James M Baily have my two Black boys.Jack & alfred and also it is my will and desire that my son Levi Bailey have the Cupboord and bureau and black – and it is also my will and desire that my son Levi Bailey and James M Baily have the smith tools and still and waggan --- and I do hereby appoint Riley Allen and Ira Crowder my executors to this my last will and Testament, Given under my hand and seal day and date above written under 'ined before assigned Attest Levi Baily

Sitting By An Open Window

2007-04-02T15:50:00.000-07:00

If I were an artist, I'd paint the dogwood tree outside of my window.
It's in full bloom, the delicate white blossoms all curled up towards the sun on their thin branches...the dogwood is such a lady of a tree, isn't it? Lovely and elegant...but spunky, too - it takes a lot of courage for a tree to face the elements and keep on growing, year after year.
The world outside of my walls is a busy one right now...birds keep flying from tree to tree and it sounds as if they're in choir rehearsal at the moment (chirp-caw-tweetatweet-chirp)...a dog is barking somewhere down the street, and earlier I saw a yellow butterfly hovering over our too-long grass. One step outside and everywhere there's color, everywhere there are crickets jumping and birds soaring, everywhere there's life - and it's exuberant.
Spring makes me smile. It's for good reason that so much poetry is inspired by this season -
it's surprising and hopeful, tender and sometimes fierce, filled with so many varying elements that all add up to one eventual conclusion - new life.
God chooses to reveal His heart to me (and to you) just this simply, this clearly - through this backdrop He creates for our every day.

The sun has set since I've been sitting here. It's dark - and still, the birds are singing (the crickets have added to their musical mix). Still, there's the sweet fragrance of growing plants and still, the flurry of creatures large and small going about their errands.
And I am still in awe of His lovely, loving heart.

(A special hello to my aunt. It meant a lot to me to see that you had been here and taken the time to read some of my meandering thoughts! :) I love you!)

Trying to Keep Perspective

2007-04-01T16:34:00.000-07:00

I'm desperately trying to get some writing done - but I'm at the point where I can't even finish a legitimate blog post. My children are my inspiration, my first priority, the greatest love-burst a girl could hope for...but sometimes I don't know how in tarnation I'm supposed to finish anything with their exuberant toddler-ness spontaneously combusting around me.
Usually I just close my notebook or the laptop and play for a while, knowing that they'll later fall asleep or get involved in a puzzle or each other enough to give me a solid twenty minutes or so of working done, but this week they've been clinging to me non-stop. Maybe it's spring fever...whatever the reason, my writing schedule has been officially disrupted. I'm just a better, more peaceful person when I have that little bit of me-in-imaginary-world time...so let's hope I get some quality work done soon. And then let's hope I somehow alleviate the mom-guilt that goes along with this kind of frustration. (Do you know the cycle? It goes a little like this - These are my children, growing so fast - I shouldn't waste a single moment wanting to be doing anything else...but there are only so many years left of my life and if I don't write what I'm writing, then it'll never get written and doesn't God ask that I do my best with any given talents...but being a mother is the highest calling...but characters a, g, and t are stuck midsentence in that confrontation and my brain is stuck mid-plot at all times...what's that, Christian? You need juice?)
(Exhale.)
Anybody else out there ever feel this way? (Please, please say yes. Please?)

Forecast

2007-03-29T06:36:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was all sunshine and eighty degree breezes, windows all opened wide and fans whirring, a million trips in and out of the house barefoot, my hands in potting soil and happy petunias, a chapter of Anne Lamott's Blue Shoe on the front porch steps in the seven-thirty dusky warmth after the dishes were done and another load of laundry was spinning...a bright day has its own energy that gets me project-busy around the house and eager to play tag with the boys...it makes me linger on the porch long after the moon is up and I think of chasing fireflies, long time gone adventures in the woods with my sister and cousins, and all the springtime/summer exploring that has yet to be done by my own kids.
Today I woke to rain cannon-balling onto the roof...a dim light glowing behind the closed blinds. When I got out of bed and opened the curtains and blinds, the rain was slowly falling - drops perching all shiny and jewel-y on the new blossoms of the dogwood right outside of the boys' bedroom window...I opened the window a bit over the kitchen sink and was met with a fresh whoosh of cool air - we've exchanged the 80's for the 50's overnight. I made a cup of coffee and stood at the door to watch the rain come down - I think we were due for a day like this, and I don't mind it. A rainy day brings a sense of quiet - things go just a bit more slowly and the house feels a bit cozier. It almost requires a hot cup of something and a book - an extra long story time with the kids or a few hours to watch Little Women and bake something yummy. It is extra permission to dream. A placid rainy day is to the world like a long soak in the tub is to me.
Two days, two energies. Our Father sends both, because He knows that we need both. The basics of earth need both...the animals and the trees and the flowers require sunshine and rain...I have to remember, as the days march on (and sometimes it feels they march right over me) that it's the same with circumstances. We'll have a burst of blessings and then, sometimes, immediately following the blessing is a blow from out of nowhere - a heart hurts, an argument bounces out of control, things just don't feel right. It's so easy to ask God why when this happens - why me? Did I do something wrong? Was I ungrateful for the good things you gave me? There's usually not an answer as to why...I've come to realize that the good and the bad come equally to everyone, and it's because we need the good and the bad - equally. If we want to grow- as people, as mothers, as friends, as writers - we need the sunshine and the rain. Sometimes we need a thunderstorm, a hurricane, or a drought.
God is there in the cloudburst and in the sunburn and in the perfect butterfly-edged springtime...He knows what you need and He longs to walk with you through it. Sometimes He just wants to show you that it's possible to skip through the rain and splash in the puddles - and how good it is to dance with Him beneath the cloudy sky.

Home Away From Home, Part 1 : Sam I Am

2007-03-28T17:29:00.000-07:00

I acted upon the afore mentioned contemplation of a visit home, in spite of the ants...fortunately, the pest control guy (my new hero) seems to have nipped the battle in the bud. I left on Saturday to go to my hometown (a little over two hours away)...this isn't where my parents actually live at this point, but it is where the church they pastor is...they'll move there when their current house sells. But almost all of my extended family lives there - both sets of grandparents, lots of aunts and uncles, lots of cousins. So I stayed there until Sunday night and then we traveled an hour and a half to my mom and dad's house. I finally packed up and left late this morning. It is hard to leave my mother's home cooking and my dad's funny comments and my siblings' dependable (silly) arguments...sometimes it is just good to pretend like I'm 14 again and still living in that safe haven under my parents' roof. (The two kids calling me Mommy usually brings me back to reality. :) )
I have lots I'd like to blog about - but time requires that I do it bit by bit.
And tonight, I am travel-worn (it's an hour and a half back to my house from my parents' place) and laundry-worn and a little bit homesick, as silly as that might seem. So I'll share just one major revelation of the trip.
Ready?
Here it goes.
I. Like. Cabbage.
No, wait.
I love cabbage.
My mom made an awesome country dinner last night and it included cabbage, which I've always claimed to hate.
I realized, as I watched everyone else take a serving, that I couldn't remember actually ever trying it...I just always assumed that I had tried it at some point and disliked it - how else could I actually be so sure that I hated it?
So I was a big girl. I tried the cabbage. I liked it so much that I had two helpings.
Sam I Am is absolutely genius. You really don't know what you're missing until you try it.

Mid-Morning Conversation

2007-03-23T07:21:00.000-07:00

You need a little back story to understand this chat between Carrie and I...

A, Neil chopped down a tree in our back yard earlier this week. (with an ax and a garden hose. long story.)
B, I was contemplating a weekend trip to see my parents and
C, this week has also brought an exorbitant amount of ants into my house. I called our pest control place that does our bi-monthly spraying and told them I needed immediate assistance. He went underneath the house and reported that he had never seen so many ants in his entire working career. There were 10, maybe 15, colonies just scurrying around like they're paying the mortgage on the place.
D, we were a bit bored (the pre-lunch lull). Ok. We weren't all that bored. This is just normal behavior for the two of us. If we're nuts, at least we're the same kind of nuts. (But we prefer the politically correct term of 'quirky'.)

Here you go. A peek into our chat-life...

Carrie: another reason to retreat - invading ant army!

me: i'm sort of scared to leave the front, though...if i'm not here killing as I go, will they flourish and claim my house as their kingdom? Sort of like a conquistador?
Napoleon-ish?
Hitler-like?

Carrie: I don't know - I would say Hitler-like. Alexander-like.
Taking over the known world.

me: b/c at this point, i'm pretty sure they have it all mapped out. strategic in their little ant tents with little ant lanterns.

little ant spears and arrows

Carrie: little ant swords

me: little ant grenades
little ant cannonballs

Carrie: (I had that at the end of my sentence and took it off!)
little ant trojan horses

me: little ant flame throwers

Carrie: little ant shields!

me: little ant suits of armor

Carrie: little ant chainmail
(great minds...)

me: :)
little ant kamikaze planes

Carrie: I seriously think they are waging a war down there just like this, with little ant generals and all.
They use roly-polies as beasts of war.
they're pre-armored!

me: The war started because when the tree fell in the back yard, they took it as the Apocalypse -- they hid out in the nearest bomb shelter they could find and now they're having it out to take control of the post-apocalyptic world...
holy cow. little ant Hummers.

Carrie: olil!
made by, who else? Assembly lines of spiders.
They have the multiple arm thing going on.

me: ha! totally can see it...and they're biding their time, secretly waiting until the ants annihilate themselves so that they can take over...faulty wiring and such in the Hummers, you know?
And the ladybugs are like the elves, innocent and running away to find a peaceful paradise...using their soulful powers to save the grasshoppers and fireflies.

Carrie: oh, of course. Ladybugs abhor conflict.

me: of course. not like the regular beetles, who are eagerly drafted. can you imagine fighting a stinkbug?

Carrie: ew. no.
the beetle armies probably use smokebomb mushrooms as weapons.

me: makes perfect sense...
and they recruit mosquitoes to fly over the smoke and pour blood over the enemy, as to further confuse and disgust them.

Carrie: EW.

me: mosquitoes do it just for the fun of it. they're cold hearted, cruel sorts. they don't care which side wins, as long as they can distribute ugliness.

Carrie: I so believe that. That's one of Josh's questions to ask God. Why do they exist?

me: I think when Lucifer fell from Heaven and was spying on the newly created earth, he talked the mosquito into turning his abilities for evil...snakes are very convincing. they probably have a deal. snake won't eat mosquito if mosquito will annoy the heck out of humanity...originally, they were probably supposed to suck up juice from honeysuckles and gently distribute it among the squirrels.

And then we parted ways for lunch...and I spent the rest of the afternoon outside with Sean and Christian- pretending to have superpowers, looking for bugs in the grass, and playing a strange combination of football and tag.
It's official.
I've turned into an 8 year old boy.

Nichole!

2007-03-22T09:46:00.000-07:00

Nichole Nordeman, one of my all all all all time favorites, has an interview over at Infuze Magazine...follow the yellow brick road to gain insights from one of the best Christian artists in the market today...

http://www.infuzemag.com/interviews/archives/2007/03/nichole_nordema.html

Spring! Spring! Spring!

2007-03-22T07:43:00.000-07:00

Spring is officially in gear!!! This time of the year is bursting with fresh scents, bright colors, and an overall feeling of hopeful happiness. I thought I'd celebrate by throwing a little e.e. cummings celebration, complete with decorations. e.e. is one of my favorite poets and God is my favorite visual artist...so it's a perfect way for me to start the season. From me to you - a blogged bouquet.

O sweet spontaneous

O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the doting
fingers of
prurient philosophies pinched
and poked
thee
has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy
beauty how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy
knees squeezing and
buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
but
true
to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover
thou answerest
them only with
spring

in time of daffodils
in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how
in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)
in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes
in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)
and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

i am a little church
i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun and rain make april
my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;
my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving
(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children
whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness
around me surges a miracle of unceasing
birth and glory and death and resurrection:
over my sleeping self float flaming symbols
of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains
i am a little church(far from the frantic
world with its rapture and anguish)at peace with nature
-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;
i am not sorry when silence becomes singing
winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to
merciful Him Whose only now is forever:
standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence
(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)

i thank you God for most this amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
wich is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

Can Anyone Hear Me?

2007-03-21T12:35:00.000-07:00

Neil brought home Blood Diamond last night, the Academy Award nominated film starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Djimon Hounsou, and Jennifer Connelly. For those of you who haven't seen the movie, it's based around the civil war in Sierra Leone back in 1999. The main thread of the plot concerns the diamond trade, which fueled the conflict.
This movie is not for the faint of heart. It's a clear picture of what was happening - villages massacred, children turned into rebel soldiers, men killing men....for money. For power. For no real reason at all.
This blog is called Whistling in the Dark, because the world is a dark place. In the eternal battle of good and evil, it sometimes feels like the evil is winning on this earth - and I truly believe that we, especially those of us who call ourselves Christians - are called to do what we can to spread hope. It is our calling to love...to keep up the melody of redemption that Christ began.
But sometimes I feel like I can do so little to make a real difference. Here I am, cozy in my house with my boys, with plenty of food and no real fear of stepping out onto my street. And in other parts of the world - people are being killed for just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. In Sudan, for example, Darfurians are being systematically slaughtered by the government. Since 2003, over 400, 000 innocent people have been killed.
The thing is, that conflict isn't even over. I'm sure that we all studied the Holocaust growing up...those pictures of piles of shoes and bodies are ingrained in my head. I'm wondering what my kids are going to study by the time they're in fifth or sixth grade...what horrendous pictures and heart breaking stories will be in the text books that are taking place right now.
I know that bad things are bound to happen while we're here on earth. That's the consequence of actions that started with Lucifer waging war in Heaven and continuing it with mankind - he wants to drive this wedge between man and God, and being far from the heart of God naturally results in the disaster that is cruelty and hate.
But it terrifies me - the thought that one human being can be so infiltrated with darkness that he will simply do away with another human being as if they are nothing more than trash to be swept out of the way.
I think it is our duty, wherever people are hurting - whether it's in our town or state or Sudan - to reach out however we can. Jesus said that we will be known as His disciples because of our love for each other. And I'm sure that we can all agree that the love of Christ is a love of action - He didn't just talk about mending the broken. He did it.
So how do I help? I'm not sure. I will, of course, keep on writing my little stories in hope that they'll communicate some message of hope and love to those who happen to read them (because hope is important for all of us, no matter where we live or the problems we face)...but as far as these larger disasters...genocide, the slave trade (which still exists), oppression...how do I make a difference? Can I make a difference? When I think about all of this, it's so overwhelming - and I can watch a movie like Blood Diamond, which makes my heart break - and try to forget about it...or I can figure out how to get involved. There's peace now in Sierra Leone...but not without the effort of people who cared.
I'd love to hear some ideas. I've come up with some links to sites concerning these issues, which I'll list below.
You know, God cared so much about our pain that He sent His Son to bear it for us - how can I, then, neglect to show compassion?

http://www.genocideintervention.net/index.php
http://www.ushmm.org/conscience/
http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/

Bill Cosby Was Right

2007-03-17T14:36:00.001-07:00

This is the greatest thing I learned during our sick weeks:
As my throat was really sore from coughing, I ate more Jello in the past two weeks than I have in the last two years. It's cold, smooth - the perfect food for an irritated throat. I figured the boys' throats were feeling aggravated, as well, so I offered the Jello to them. Sean just ignored it, as he has been for the past three years (he tends to refuse any food that can be eaten with a spoon) and I discovered the best thing - Christian thinks Jello is extremely funny. That is, as long as it's safely in its cup or on the spoon...if he can see it from a distance, he laughs out loud and points at it.
However, if you make it wiggle and jiggle after him, he suddenly thinks Jello is extremely scary. By this I mean that he actually screams and runs, glancing over his shoulder like the strawberry gelatin is going to bloom up and eat HIM.
Um, under medication, a certain mommy may have found this a tad too funny. (And without medication, I may or may not be still eating Jello just for the purpose of freaking out my two year old. Don't tell anyone. :) )
J-E-L-L-O...it's alive!!!!

Thoughts To Chew On - oops, that should be Thoughts On Which To Chew, right?

2007-03-15T09:24:00.000-07:00

I've been non-stop editing this short story for two days. Hard to get the revising to stop. The deadline is today and I still have a few hundred words to cut. Yikes. To make myself feel a little better about this, I've copied down a few quotes from some of the great writers - if something is making you crazy and obsessive, it is good to know that there are people out there who commiserate.

"A work of art is first of all work." Paul Engle
"I spent all morning putting in a comma and all afternoon taking it out." Oscar Wilde
"Real seriousness in regard to writing is one of the two absolute necessities. The other, unfortunately, is talent." Ernest Hemingway
"My family can always tell when I'm well into a novel because the meals get very crummy." Anne Tyler

Still Breathing

2007-03-13T16:45:00.000-07:00

So I think I've survived the sickest week and a half to afflict this house...well...ever. We're all still coughing and whiny and all that - but we've made it through the worst of the illness.
A longer post is in the works - for now, I just wanted to say thanks for the get well wishes. I hope that everyone has enjoyed the Daylights Savings Time gift of a lighter evening...and the fact that my Tarheels won the ACC championship! :) (Sorry, I wasn't sick enough to obliterate the annoying fan cells...)

Ick.

2007-03-06T10:52:00.000-08:00

You know what happens to a person who is taking care of sick people?
Yup. She gets sick.
I don't feel quite as bad as I did yesterday afternoon, but I've got that whole congestion thing in my throat now - so that when I cough, it really and truly feels like I am going to choke and pass out onto the floor.
Which would be bad, for many reasons - the foremost being the children I still have to feed and clean up and stuff.
Too bad there isn't a stay at home mom boss-man to call and demand a sick day. I really want to snuggle into my bed (alone!) with the ipod and the Gail Godwin novel I'm trying to finish. AKA, I'd like to ignore the world until I feel like a functioning human again.
Too bad my boss-men are two and three year olds only concerned with Mommy playing hide-and-seek and Mommy distributing snacks in a timely manner, etc. etc. etc.
Maybe I can send myself into a time-out...