We leave in just a few hours. We are packed: Cold mochas for the drivers, little boxes of cereal that make your milk change color, new music, new books, new audiobooks. We are excited: Our six-year-old just came downstairs, all dressed for the road. He saw the lights on and thought it was time to launch. Sorry, pal. We haven't even gone to bed yet. He's disappointed now, but the fun begins very soon.
All the details will have to wait. I need to make sure I close my eyes for a few hours before we make our twelve hour trek north.
Have a great week, and we will see you on the 7th.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Kindred spirits
I woke up dreaming of my favorite restaurant from the Bay Area. I ate breakfast at Hobee's Restaurant a couple of times a week when I was single and had more discretionary income. I even have an elegant blown-glass vase that the manager gave us for a wedding present. We kept Hobee's in the black during the mid-80's.
Why was I dreaming of them this morning? The clue was the garlic, the rosemary, the potatoes, the scones, the eggs, all cooking away in the kitchen. It was a dream breakfast for my husband, and my daughter was the chef. She loves time alone with her dad, especially a quiet conversation for just the two of them.
Alone time with our children is something we don't always achieve, but we work hard to get it. Sometimes, though, they take the initiative and create an invitation that is impossible to resist. Garlic? Coffee? Scones? PLUS a dear girl's company? Irresistible!
Cleaning the dark corners
Well, I didn't get stuck in the closet, and I am done sorting through pictures. I feel like I have released a burden, thrown off a hindrance, and I have found the house I love again. It's no wonder we were crowded around here. On Monday my husband spoke another one of my love languages: "Hauling Stuff Away." We had one huge load for the dump, and one huge load to donate to the thrift store. We own an old Suburban, so please don't underestimate how much I have ignored the piles around here. Huge load = HUGE load. Sad, but true.
I don't know what you find if you ever have the pleasure of decluttering on such a ridiculous level, but amidst all the handfuls of lego heads, Lincoln logs, pen caps, pretend money and matchbox cars, I found some treasures. I took every photo album (those non-pc sticky kind that make memory keeping people's hair stand on end) and every huge box of photos that were stuffed in one cupboard and spent many hours sorting. Just a handy hint from me: if it is blurred - toss it immediately. No need to be stored for three - five - fifteen? years. Handy hint number two: if you have ten pictures of baby blowing the candle out on his/her birthday, maybe two would suffice. If you have just taken the pictures, perhaps the grandparents would like the extras. If it has been fifteen years, I think the trash bag is your best bet. If you have four children who all look alike in their baby pictures, make sure that you put noticeable differences in the background. Is there no sibling? Ah, baby #1. House #2? Ah, baby #5. Does baby have a doggie, a piece of fake fur, or a silky blanket? That will show the difference between babies #1, #2, and #3. Fortunately for us, baby #4 had noticeable hair and eyebrows. Yes, some photos had dates, but not all of them. I'll tell you one thing - they were all adorable.
I also found a note that my oldest daughter wrote to her youngest brother when he was born. It told him how happy she was that he was born, what a wonderful mother he has (sniff, sniff), and how Gracey the cat would keep him company. Gracey is long-gone to glory (she died defending the cat food from a skunk....it's not easy living for cats in the country), but oldest and youngest have certainly had a sweet friendship through their six-and-a-half years of knowing each other.
I usually get rid of things that we no longer use, but some toys were too much of an investment to toss. I put Brio trains and Duplo blocks in the attic -- for the grandchildren. That gave us a moment's pause, let me tell you.
Resolutions are taking up a lot of space in my brain these days. No more junk. Just say no to hand-me-downs, unless we need them desperately. (Extra note: husband and wife should both see a need. This checks and balances system could eliminate a lot of clutter around here.) Lock the doors. Bar the windows. No More Clutter. In the bottom drawer of my desk, I found an email exchange between a cyber-friend and myself. It was written almost exactly a year ago, and I was describing some of the same cluttered feeling that I have just rid myself of. Unfortunately, it doesn't just clutter the house; my mind gets into a mess, too. But, an annual feeling of chaos is totally unnecessary; I just have to quit letting it all in, or deal with it immediately. The piles, and the back of the closet mysteries, need to head on down the road. I like fitting in my house again. I like knowing where things are. I don't want to go back.
If you want to come over just to see my house, please come over while we are on vacation. Tomorrow we scrub and polish the place from top to bottom; Friday (pre-dawn) we head off into the sunrise. You could ask my mother to let you in, and you can snoop through all the closets and drawers. They. Are. All. In. Order. You will be so impressed. Well, at least I am.
I don't know what you find if you ever have the pleasure of decluttering on such a ridiculous level, but amidst all the handfuls of lego heads, Lincoln logs, pen caps, pretend money and matchbox cars, I found some treasures. I took every photo album (those non-pc sticky kind that make memory keeping people's hair stand on end) and every huge box of photos that were stuffed in one cupboard and spent many hours sorting. Just a handy hint from me: if it is blurred - toss it immediately. No need to be stored for three - five - fifteen? years. Handy hint number two: if you have ten pictures of baby blowing the candle out on his/her birthday, maybe two would suffice. If you have just taken the pictures, perhaps the grandparents would like the extras. If it has been fifteen years, I think the trash bag is your best bet. If you have four children who all look alike in their baby pictures, make sure that you put noticeable differences in the background. Is there no sibling? Ah, baby #1. House #2? Ah, baby #5. Does baby have a doggie, a piece of fake fur, or a silky blanket? That will show the difference between babies #1, #2, and #3. Fortunately for us, baby #4 had noticeable hair and eyebrows. Yes, some photos had dates, but not all of them. I'll tell you one thing - they were all adorable.
I also found a note that my oldest daughter wrote to her youngest brother when he was born. It told him how happy she was that he was born, what a wonderful mother he has (sniff, sniff), and how Gracey the cat would keep him company. Gracey is long-gone to glory (she died defending the cat food from a skunk....it's not easy living for cats in the country), but oldest and youngest have certainly had a sweet friendship through their six-and-a-half years of knowing each other.
I usually get rid of things that we no longer use, but some toys were too much of an investment to toss. I put Brio trains and Duplo blocks in the attic -- for the grandchildren. That gave us a moment's pause, let me tell you.
Resolutions are taking up a lot of space in my brain these days. No more junk. Just say no to hand-me-downs, unless we need them desperately. (Extra note: husband and wife should both see a need. This checks and balances system could eliminate a lot of clutter around here.) Lock the doors. Bar the windows. No More Clutter. In the bottom drawer of my desk, I found an email exchange between a cyber-friend and myself. It was written almost exactly a year ago, and I was describing some of the same cluttered feeling that I have just rid myself of. Unfortunately, it doesn't just clutter the house; my mind gets into a mess, too. But, an annual feeling of chaos is totally unnecessary; I just have to quit letting it all in, or deal with it immediately. The piles, and the back of the closet mysteries, need to head on down the road. I like fitting in my house again. I like knowing where things are. I don't want to go back.
If you want to come over just to see my house, please come over while we are on vacation. Tomorrow we scrub and polish the place from top to bottom; Friday (pre-dawn) we head off into the sunrise. You could ask my mother to let you in, and you can snoop through all the closets and drawers. They. Are. All. In. Order. You will be so impressed. Well, at least I am.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Hiking Mt. Ralston
A Saturday stroll?
For people who love a challenge.
For views like this.
Sweet victory!
A note to Waterfall at A Sort of Notebook (someone who is a Serious Hiker): This is on, near, or relatively close by the Pacific Crest Trail. I hope we can meet on a flatter section when you come hiking up our way.
A disclaimer: I did not take these pictures. I did not take this fourteen-mile hike. I couldn't do it if I tried. My idea of exercise right now is (literally) huffing and puffing my way around a flat path that surrounds my favorite bird watching lake. Flat. Two miles (max.) Well, maybe I could hike this, but I sure wouldn't be home for dinner (today, tomorrow or the day after that.) With this hike, my older boys (and their dad) have finished all the required hikes for the Boy Scout hiking merit badge; that's five ten-milers and one twenty-miler. They are also 2nd Class Scouts now, and I am burstin' my buttons with pleasure at their strength, their sense of adventure, and their tenacity. Congrats, fellas!
Monday, July 25, 2005
Summer reading list
My summer reading list was posted here; it has been a great list with just the right amount of ease and challenge.
I am only beginning the climb up Climbing Parnassus by Tracy Lee Simmons. I will have to keep a vocabulary list in the back of the book, but that often happens for me. I think of myself as a person with a decent vocabulary, but I am finding that it is actually very limited. So, one of my self-education goals is to keep learning new words (thus A.Word.A.Day in my inbox each day, and scribbles on the back pages of my current read.)
Some favorite quotes from Parnassus thus far:
One of the books I chose was The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Amanda at Wittingshire answered my, "Tell me what you like about Dorian Gray" question at her blog - here. She's got some great things to say (as always.)
Two books added recently are Before We Get Started: A Practical Memoir of the Writer's Life by Bret Lott and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. They will be great companions on vacation - which starts FRIDAY!!!
I am only beginning the climb up Climbing Parnassus by Tracy Lee Simmons. I will have to keep a vocabulary list in the back of the book, but that often happens for me. I think of myself as a person with a decent vocabulary, but I am finding that it is actually very limited. So, one of my self-education goals is to keep learning new words (thus A.Word.A.Day in my inbox each day, and scribbles on the back pages of my current read.)
Some favorite quotes from Parnassus thus far:
"...We ought not to shy away from confronting views of former ages simply because they don't conform to current notions, for doing so exposes us to the most blinding of parochialisms: the glaring assumption that one's own time, particularly our own with all its hypersensitivities, is always right."
"Even if all one has gained from a classical education were to be forgotten in later life, anyone trained, at least for a time, to view the world as the Greeks and Romans saw it may learn to ask pregnant questions. And even if the ancient answers be rejected, the student - of whatever age - will know what they are, and approach his own world with freshened vision, one no longer blinkered by ideology and the reigning fashion. He would have a liberal, because liberating, education indeed. No longer would he be imprisoned exclusively within the velvet walls of his own world's preoccupations and fetishes. No longer would he be just and only a child of his time. (emphasis mine)
One of the books I chose was The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde. Amanda at Wittingshire answered my, "Tell me what you like about Dorian Gray" question at her blog - here. She's got some great things to say (as always.)
Two books added recently are Before We Get Started: A Practical Memoir of the Writer's Life by Bret Lott and The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins. They will be great companions on vacation - which starts FRIDAY!!!
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Not a good time to be useless around here...
Maybe it is the weather (I promised I would not complain again -- I won't -- I won't!), or maybe it is just the right time, but this house is getting decluttered in a major way. If you aren't essential for living, look out; a black trash bag or a pile for the hospice thrift store donation site are your destination. Every drawer, every cupboard, every possible nook and cranny is being overhauled, and I won't stop until I am done. I usually do this right after vacation, in preparation for our new school year, but last year I never did it. What a mistake! So, I am getting this done now, before we go away, and I am sure I won't be sorry. Our house is not tiny, but it feels small when there is too much stuff around; keeping things cleaned out is essential for familial sanity.
As usual, there is a musical companion chosen for these tasks. In the first cupboard I tackled, I found cassettes that hadn't been listened to in a long time. Most are now in a bag for the thrift store, but this one is a long-lost friend:
Brother to Brother , John Michael Talbot and Michael Card
I first became acquainted with John Michael Talbot while living with a dear woman named Diana. Each morning, as I struggled to open my eyes and get going on my day, I would smell espresso being made, and hear the quiet strains of Talbot's music dancing on the morning air. There is a gentle strength in my roommate, and she has quietly and faithfully built her life on the foundation of Christ. Those quiet mornings of coffee and music were only the beginning of that journey. I'll see her in two weeks, at our every-other-year beach gathering, so I listen to this music with her in mind.
I may have to switch to something a little more raucous as the evening wears on. With sweat dripping down my back, and piles of "should I toss or should I file?", I need the strength to carry on. The only thing worse than a cluttered house is a house in mid-decluttering stride. There's no quitting once the flood gates open, no matter how overwhelming it gets. I'll be back when there is progress made, and not before. If nothing gets posted for more than a week, I may have fallen into the under-the-stairs closet, or still be sorting out pictures of five babies that all look identical. My family enjoys my company though, and can usually be convinced to work with me in my labors, so chances are I won't get lost in the pile of black bags.
In the meantime, enjoy these summer days. Try not to miss the beauty around you, wherever you may be, as well as the wonder and mystery of our short lives.
As usual, there is a musical companion chosen for these tasks. In the first cupboard I tackled, I found cassettes that hadn't been listened to in a long time. Most are now in a bag for the thrift store, but this one is a long-lost friend:
Brother to Brother , John Michael Talbot and Michael Card
I first became acquainted with John Michael Talbot while living with a dear woman named Diana. Each morning, as I struggled to open my eyes and get going on my day, I would smell espresso being made, and hear the quiet strains of Talbot's music dancing on the morning air. There is a gentle strength in my roommate, and she has quietly and faithfully built her life on the foundation of Christ. Those quiet mornings of coffee and music were only the beginning of that journey. I'll see her in two weeks, at our every-other-year beach gathering, so I listen to this music with her in mind.
I may have to switch to something a little more raucous as the evening wears on. With sweat dripping down my back, and piles of "should I toss or should I file?", I need the strength to carry on. The only thing worse than a cluttered house is a house in mid-decluttering stride. There's no quitting once the flood gates open, no matter how overwhelming it gets. I'll be back when there is progress made, and not before. If nothing gets posted for more than a week, I may have fallen into the under-the-stairs closet, or still be sorting out pictures of five babies that all look identical. My family enjoys my company though, and can usually be convinced to work with me in my labors, so chances are I won't get lost in the pile of black bags.
In the meantime, enjoy these summer days. Try not to miss the beauty around you, wherever you may be, as well as the wonder and mystery of our short lives.
"Jesus, paint my life with charity
Paint my life with mercy
Paint my life.
And we know You are the Master of painters
Comin' the true Prince of Peace
And we know You are the True Creator
Comin' the King of Kings"John Michael Talbot, The Mystery
Sunday, July 17, 2005
A year ago today....
I was sitting in Benroya Hall in Seattle with my husband and our two oldest children. Woven throughout the typical symphony crowd were people dressed as elves, hobbits, and shield maidens of Rohan, for it was to be an afternoon of hearing the music from The Lord of the Rings, conducted by Howard Shore himself.
This trip was completely out of character for our family. We don't fly here and there to attend exciting events. We usually make our fun local (read: inexpensive) and simple (read: inexpensive.) But, I was reading a post on the Well-Trained Mind boards that mentioned Howard Shore conducting the symphony, and something inside me just had to dream for a minute. I searched, found the Seattle date and wrote my dear mother-in-law. She thought it was a grand idea, since she lives outside of Seattle, and encouraged me to see what we could pull off. My husband, understandably, thought I was nuts. But, I kept a flame of hope alive in my heart. Through a strange set of circumstances, the generosity of loved ones and a dream to be exact, we ended up in that lovely symphony hall. My husband, in a completely uncharacteristic moment, had a vivid dream (the sleeping kind of dream) about going to visit his uncle...an uncle that was much-loved, dying of Lou Gehrig's disease, and living in Seattle. My mother-in-law and her husband invited our two oldest children to stay as their guests for a few extra days, and we suddenly had ourselves a trip.
It was a whirlwind to beat all whirlwinds. My husband and I were gone from home less than forty hours, but we fit in enough excitement to make anyone dizzy. We had a long visit at Dusty Strings music store, where our daughter was able to drool on...um, I mean, practice on several harps that she is considering for a future harp purchase. We drank coffee (an important part of any Seattle visit), attended the symphony, saw Whidbey Island for the first time, and had precious time with Uncle John and Aunt Juanita, made all the more important by the fact that Uncle John died this past April. It was truly a dream come true.
The symphony, that original reason I began to dream, was spectacular. From the opening moments, I felt transported to another world. Howard Shore looked like a young boy at Christmas; he came on stage with a huge grin on his face, and as he conducted he seemed to bounce with excitement. The soprano who sang Into the West had a voice as clear and fresh as any I have heard, and the beauty of it just melted my heart. The tin whistle of Hobbiton, the fiddle of Rohan, the horns of Gondor, and the young man who sang In Dreams, all of these were absolutely perfect.
When finances are tight, as they always are at my house, it is easy to give up dreaming. But, every now and then, I think letting an absurd dream light a little flicker in our hearts is a good thing. Now, it isn't without risk. If a dream costs money, it will often not come true, and that can lead to disappointment. But, I would rather entertain a dream that never comes true, than to live my simple life with no dreams at all. And sometimes, occasionally, rarely, those dreams come true. My heart still dreams of Great Britain, and a long autumn in New England, and they may only be dreams for the rest of my life. But, my dream of flying off with three of my favorite people, to hear some of my favorite music, in a city known for its coffee... it was a delicious dream come true.
July 17, 2004
And, just in case you have managed to hide yourself from Howard Shore's musical masterpiece, here is a chance to get better acquainted:
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Soundtrack
This trip was completely out of character for our family. We don't fly here and there to attend exciting events. We usually make our fun local (read: inexpensive) and simple (read: inexpensive.) But, I was reading a post on the Well-Trained Mind boards that mentioned Howard Shore conducting the symphony, and something inside me just had to dream for a minute. I searched, found the Seattle date and wrote my dear mother-in-law. She thought it was a grand idea, since she lives outside of Seattle, and encouraged me to see what we could pull off. My husband, understandably, thought I was nuts. But, I kept a flame of hope alive in my heart. Through a strange set of circumstances, the generosity of loved ones and a dream to be exact, we ended up in that lovely symphony hall. My husband, in a completely uncharacteristic moment, had a vivid dream (the sleeping kind of dream) about going to visit his uncle...an uncle that was much-loved, dying of Lou Gehrig's disease, and living in Seattle. My mother-in-law and her husband invited our two oldest children to stay as their guests for a few extra days, and we suddenly had ourselves a trip.
It was a whirlwind to beat all whirlwinds. My husband and I were gone from home less than forty hours, but we fit in enough excitement to make anyone dizzy. We had a long visit at Dusty Strings music store, where our daughter was able to drool on...um, I mean, practice on several harps that she is considering for a future harp purchase. We drank coffee (an important part of any Seattle visit), attended the symphony, saw Whidbey Island for the first time, and had precious time with Uncle John and Aunt Juanita, made all the more important by the fact that Uncle John died this past April. It was truly a dream come true.
The symphony, that original reason I began to dream, was spectacular. From the opening moments, I felt transported to another world. Howard Shore looked like a young boy at Christmas; he came on stage with a huge grin on his face, and as he conducted he seemed to bounce with excitement. The soprano who sang Into the West had a voice as clear and fresh as any I have heard, and the beauty of it just melted my heart. The tin whistle of Hobbiton, the fiddle of Rohan, the horns of Gondor, and the young man who sang In Dreams, all of these were absolutely perfect.
When finances are tight, as they always are at my house, it is easy to give up dreaming. But, every now and then, I think letting an absurd dream light a little flicker in our hearts is a good thing. Now, it isn't without risk. If a dream costs money, it will often not come true, and that can lead to disappointment. But, I would rather entertain a dream that never comes true, than to live my simple life with no dreams at all. And sometimes, occasionally, rarely, those dreams come true. My heart still dreams of Great Britain, and a long autumn in New England, and they may only be dreams for the rest of my life. But, my dream of flying off with three of my favorite people, to hear some of my favorite music, in a city known for its coffee... it was a delicious dream come true.
July 17, 2004
And, just in case you have managed to hide yourself from Howard Shore's musical masterpiece, here is a chance to get better acquainted:
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Soundtrack
Playground games -- I'm tagged again!
These questions come from MomBob at W.P.M.s, one of my virtual circle who has become a flesh-and-blood, real-life friend. Two more weeks, and we'll be sharing the fog in Cannon Beach, Oregon. Yahoo! So, in appreciation of our friendship, I will play tag:
10 years ago:
I had three children under five, was pregnant with baby #4. I was prepping for my first year of homeschooling, and was really, really nauseated all summer. I had no dryer. I had no dishwasher. We lived twenty minutes from civilization, grew cherry tomatoes and sunflowers, and rarely went anywhere. Simpler, harder, but (even with the chronic nausea) a very sweet season in life.
5 years ago:
All my children were present and accounted for. We lived in our current house. I can remember nothing of note other than what most summers include: working in the vegetable garden, going to Shakespeare in the Park, going to Cannon Beach, Oregon on vacation, and being really hot.
1 year ago:
Flying to Seattle with our two oldest children. See other post for details.
Yesterday:
Early in the morning I spent an hour and a half at friend's house, watering their plants and feeding their cat, Aragorn. I was home by 7:30 and it was a project day. I cooked a stack of pancakes, and we all chose our project: weed eating, garden raking, cleaning Gram's yard, cleaning out the frig., replacing the dryer vent, cleaning out the pantry, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, folding said laundry, collapsing for an hour nap, preparing a cheese, crackers, fruit, cake and wine picnic, and heading out to Shakespeare in the Park to see A Midsummer Night's Dream ("Oh, what fools these mortals be!")
Today:
So far:
Church.
Lunch.
Blog.
Still on the horizon:
Nap.
Read.
Story time on the deck.
Star gazing.
Talking into the night.
5 snacks I enjoy:
Fresh fruit. Chips and guacamole (with or without margarita). Granola. Cheese and crackers. Oreos.
5 bands I know most of the lyrics of their songs:
FIVE? Yikes. I can't even do one. Sorry, I count on my husband to be the juke box for me.
Things I would Do with 100 million dollars:
Travel, be generous, not tell my children I have it, buy books, pave my driveway, send anonymous presents to people that need nice surprises in their lives, support causes that are important to me. And, honestly, probably stop worrying about food or books? This or that? And pay the county enough to have the library open six days a week again.
5 bad habits I have:
I have a temper. I am lazy. I put off unpleasant conversations. I assume the worst too often. I let food rot in the back of my frig. way too often for a person who has a limited food budget. The list could go on and on....
5 locations I would run away to:
I like to run away to my home (no phone, computer, or answered door bell.) The beach. Chicago. Great Britain. Montreal.
5 things I would never wear:
The color orange. A bikini. A tube top. Pajama pants in public. Big, flashy jewelry.
5 things I like doing:
Reading, bird watching, drawing, talking with my children, being with my husband in any and all circumstances.
5 biggest joys of the moment:
My children are all discovering their strengths; it's a joy. Having my mother next door, and liking it. Friends, good friends, friends that you will miss when you are gone on vacation. Home educating my children -- a great career for me, a great educational choice for my children. Being young enough to be active and old enough not to care about "their" opinions.
5 famous people I would like to meet:
I would like to meet C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Alcuin of York, Joan of Arc, and Mrs. Mental Multivitamin.
5 movies I like:
The Lord of the Rings; Pride and Prejudice; Wives and Daughters; Chocolat; Master and Commander.
5 TV Shows I like:
Will have to pass -- I only watch basketball on TV.
5 favorite toys:
Colored pencils, wooden knitting needles, digital camera, binoculars, a good set of watercolor brushes.
5 people I tag:
You let me know if you want to play tag.
10 years ago:
I had three children under five, was pregnant with baby #4. I was prepping for my first year of homeschooling, and was really, really nauseated all summer. I had no dryer. I had no dishwasher. We lived twenty minutes from civilization, grew cherry tomatoes and sunflowers, and rarely went anywhere. Simpler, harder, but (even with the chronic nausea) a very sweet season in life.
5 years ago:
All my children were present and accounted for. We lived in our current house. I can remember nothing of note other than what most summers include: working in the vegetable garden, going to Shakespeare in the Park, going to Cannon Beach, Oregon on vacation, and being really hot.
1 year ago:
Flying to Seattle with our two oldest children. See other post for details.
Yesterday:
Early in the morning I spent an hour and a half at friend's house, watering their plants and feeding their cat, Aragorn. I was home by 7:30 and it was a project day. I cooked a stack of pancakes, and we all chose our project: weed eating, garden raking, cleaning Gram's yard, cleaning out the frig., replacing the dryer vent, cleaning out the pantry, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, folding said laundry, collapsing for an hour nap, preparing a cheese, crackers, fruit, cake and wine picnic, and heading out to Shakespeare in the Park to see A Midsummer Night's Dream ("Oh, what fools these mortals be!")
Today:
So far:
Church.
Lunch.
Blog.
Still on the horizon:
Nap.
Read.
Story time on the deck.
Star gazing.
Talking into the night.
5 snacks I enjoy:
Fresh fruit. Chips and guacamole (with or without margarita). Granola. Cheese and crackers. Oreos.
5 bands I know most of the lyrics of their songs:
FIVE? Yikes. I can't even do one. Sorry, I count on my husband to be the juke box for me.
Things I would Do with 100 million dollars:
Travel, be generous, not tell my children I have it, buy books, pave my driveway, send anonymous presents to people that need nice surprises in their lives, support causes that are important to me. And, honestly, probably stop worrying about food or books? This or that? And pay the county enough to have the library open six days a week again.
5 bad habits I have:
I have a temper. I am lazy. I put off unpleasant conversations. I assume the worst too often. I let food rot in the back of my frig. way too often for a person who has a limited food budget. The list could go on and on....
5 locations I would run away to:
I like to run away to my home (no phone, computer, or answered door bell.) The beach. Chicago. Great Britain. Montreal.
5 things I would never wear:
The color orange. A bikini. A tube top. Pajama pants in public. Big, flashy jewelry.
5 things I like doing:
Reading, bird watching, drawing, talking with my children, being with my husband in any and all circumstances.
5 biggest joys of the moment:
My children are all discovering their strengths; it's a joy. Having my mother next door, and liking it. Friends, good friends, friends that you will miss when you are gone on vacation. Home educating my children -- a great career for me, a great educational choice for my children. Being young enough to be active and old enough not to care about "their" opinions.
5 famous people I would like to meet:
I would like to meet C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, Alcuin of York, Joan of Arc, and Mrs. Mental Multivitamin.
5 movies I like:
The Lord of the Rings; Pride and Prejudice; Wives and Daughters; Chocolat; Master and Commander.
5 TV Shows I like:
Will have to pass -- I only watch basketball on TV.
5 favorite toys:
Colored pencils, wooden knitting needles, digital camera, binoculars, a good set of watercolor brushes.
5 people I tag:
You let me know if you want to play tag.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
Paradigm shift
There are two jars of coffee beans in the cafe that is our kitchen. We take our coffee seriously around here, and caffeination has been a regular routine. But, my husband likes a pot of half "leaded" and half "unleaded" coffee in the morning, so we have kept that little jar in the barista corner of the counter. Big jar has caffeinated beans, little jar has the decaffeinated ones.
Well, there comes a time in some of our lives when the caffeination jig is up. And that would be me, and that would be now (heavy sigh, violin music if you please.) So, to support his wife's needs, my husband agreed to switch the coffee beans. Scary business when you like your ruts deep and long. But, though the earth shook, we made the switch and have yet to confuse the two. Big jar decaffeinated, little jar caffeinated.
For a woman whose love language is a cup of coffee in bed in the morning, having a husband that doesn't mind making an entirely separate carafe of coffee for me in the morning is the same as some people's dozen roses, love note on the sink, or even a long trip to the Bahamas! This is "LOVE YOU" loud and clear, and I am deeply grateful.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Chance or the Dance?
I have been faithfully working my way through my summer reading list, but it was time to cut away from the fiction side of things and move on to the non-fiction list. My first choice was: Chance or the Dance? A Critique of Modern Secularism, by Thomas Howard
Some random thoughts:
Howard begins by comparing The Old Myth (a Christian view of life and eternity) with The New Myth (a secular view.) In the former, men "believed that they had souls, and that what they did in this life had some bearing on the way in which they would finally experience reality...Altogether, life was very weighty, and there was no telling what might lie behind things." In the latter, "Men were freed from the fear of the Last Judgment; it was felt to be more bracing to face Nothing than to face the Tribunal. They were freed from worry about getting their souls into God's heaven by the discovery that they had no souls and that God had no heaven."
He discusses the role of imagination, the role of rituals and courtesy and ceremony, how poetry and painting express our view of human purpose and of our view of the existence (or non-existence) of God, and why any of this would matter in the midst of our ordinary lives.
This is not everyone's fare, but I found his critique fascinating. Thomas Howard is Elizabeth Elliot's brother; he converted to Catholicism in adulthood, and he is a fine thinker, and an imaginative and earthy writer. I like his book a lot.
From the final page:
Major thanks to Martin Cothran of Memoria Press, who had this book in his booth at the Denver Homeschool Convention last summer. My VISA card was smoking when I left his booth, but it was right before Father's Day...we celebrated with great literary gusto upon my return! For you homeschooling types, the Memoria Press catalog is filled with great articles as well as products. It is the one catalog I keep around after ordering time is gone. To get on their list, go here.
Some random thoughts:
Howard begins by comparing The Old Myth (a Christian view of life and eternity) with The New Myth (a secular view.) In the former, men "believed that they had souls, and that what they did in this life had some bearing on the way in which they would finally experience reality...Altogether, life was very weighty, and there was no telling what might lie behind things." In the latter, "Men were freed from the fear of the Last Judgment; it was felt to be more bracing to face Nothing than to face the Tribunal. They were freed from worry about getting their souls into God's heaven by the discovery that they had no souls and that God had no heaven."
He discusses the role of imagination, the role of rituals and courtesy and ceremony, how poetry and painting express our view of human purpose and of our view of the existence (or non-existence) of God, and why any of this would matter in the midst of our ordinary lives.
This is not everyone's fare, but I found his critique fascinating. Thomas Howard is Elizabeth Elliot's brother; he converted to Catholicism in adulthood, and he is a fine thinker, and an imaginative and earthy writer. I like his book a lot.
From the final page:
"But (man) might note, because he has looked around him at a thousand images, that it is not unobserved that life issues from death - that spring rises winter, and the oak from the dead acorn, and dawn from the night, and Phoenix from the ashes.
These are all old moral saws. Nothing new here. Bromides. But then there is nothing new anywhere. The business of the poet and the prophet has always been to take the saws and astonish and delight us into a fresh awareness of what they mean by discovering them suddenly in this image, and in this, and this. And the rest of us may see it all either as a pointless jumble of phenomena, or as the diagram of glory - as grinding tediously toward entropy, or as dancing toward the Dance."
Major thanks to Martin Cothran of Memoria Press, who had this book in his booth at the Denver Homeschool Convention last summer. My VISA card was smoking when I left his booth, but it was right before Father's Day...we celebrated with great literary gusto upon my return! For you homeschooling types, the Memoria Press catalog is filled with great articles as well as products. It is the one catalog I keep around after ordering time is gone. To get on their list, go here.
You know your dog is better when....
Home alone, house quiet, good book. So far, so good. Suddenly, dishes clank in the direction of the kitchen/dining area. Who's down there? Is there really a Kitchen Fairy after all?
Nope. The dog is ON TOP OF the dining table, eating a stack of leftover pancakes that someone forgot to package up.
I guess the dog no longer struggles with mobility in her back legs. She seems to have recovered 100%.
Nope. The dog is ON TOP OF the dining table, eating a stack of leftover pancakes that someone forgot to package up.
I guess the dog no longer struggles with mobility in her back legs. She seems to have recovered 100%.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
To my dear friends...
Sometimes life gets difficult. Too many bills and not enough income; too many responsibilities and not enough energy; too much and too little adding up to fear and frustration. And, there are days with more dramatic and devastating events, when our minutes and hours roar with a pain that seems ready to devour us.
What can I do when a friend has to endure this? These are the times when life can feel like the climb up Mount Doom. The Lord of the Rings story ends with victory, but there is no assurance of that for Frodo and Sam as they climb. Thirst, hunger, darkness, and enemies surround them - that is all they have. They have no way of knowing that they would survive, that the eagles would come, that good would conquer evil. They just had to keep crawling up the mountain, determined to do what they said they would do.
I have two dear friends who are hurting; one with daily pressures that are weighing her down, and one with circumstances that rob her of sleep and fill her waking moments with nightmares. My prayer for my dear friends, these kindred spirits that have walked many joyful and painful miles with me, is that they would have the vision that Sam had on the path up Mount Doom:
Frodo is sleeping, and Sam is anxious. Amidst his wakeful worries, he crawls out to look at the surrounding area.
My friends, may you know that these days of shadow are only fleeting. May you have a glimpse of the beauty that is far beyond the reach of any shadow, and may you know the Bright Morning Star, and His never-ending love for you, amidst the dreary and the devastating.
What can I do when a friend has to endure this? These are the times when life can feel like the climb up Mount Doom. The Lord of the Rings story ends with victory, but there is no assurance of that for Frodo and Sam as they climb. Thirst, hunger, darkness, and enemies surround them - that is all they have. They have no way of knowing that they would survive, that the eagles would come, that good would conquer evil. They just had to keep crawling up the mountain, determined to do what they said they would do.
I have two dear friends who are hurting; one with daily pressures that are weighing her down, and one with circumstances that rob her of sleep and fill her waking moments with nightmares. My prayer for my dear friends, these kindred spirits that have walked many joyful and painful miles with me, is that they would have the vision that Sam had on the path up Mount Doom:
Frodo is sleeping, and Sam is anxious. Amidst his wakeful worries, he crawls out to look at the surrounding area.
"The land seemed full of creaking and cracking and sly noises, but there was no sound of voice or of foot. Far above the Ephel Duath in the West the night-sky was still dim and pale. There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach."Return of the King, Tolkien.
My friends, may you know that these days of shadow are only fleeting. May you have a glimpse of the beauty that is far beyond the reach of any shadow, and may you know the Bright Morning Star, and His never-ending love for you, amidst the dreary and the devastating.
And now for something completely different
I will only do this once. I promise. If you've been reading A Circle of Quiet for any length of time, you know that I focus on gratitude and appreciation for what is happening around me. But, as Aragorn says to his men at the Black Gate, in the movie version of The Return of the Ring, "It is not this day. This day we gripe!" Oh, well, he didn't say gripe. He said fight. But, this is my day to gripe. It is hot, as in h-o-t hot, and I do NOT like the heat. I wilt. I grump and grouch. I find it hard to be grateful, happy, and energetic. I just want to gripe. But, I promise I won't mention it again. I will make my afternoon frozen blended latte, I will stand in front of the fan and sing, I will think of those of you in wet and cold lands that love every warm day you can get your hands on, and I will keep my griping to myself. Tomorrow.
With the grouchy theme well-established, I give you this link from the NEA website. The article title? Home Schools Run By Well-Meaning Amateurs. Harumph. At least I am well-meaning...I guess. Thanks to Randi at I Have to Say and Sparrow at Intent for the link to reading that fits this "lovely" weather like a glove.
With the grouchy theme well-established, I give you this link from the NEA website. The article title? Home Schools Run By Well-Meaning Amateurs. Harumph. At least I am well-meaning...I guess. Thanks to Randi at I Have to Say and Sparrow at Intent for the link to reading that fits this "lovely" weather like a glove.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
A Midsummer Night's Dream
We have just a few days, and then we will be off to see Shakespeare in the Park for our sixteenth season in a row. I missed a year or two with babies that needed me at night, but some of us have gone every year. A picnic in the park, a chance to visit with friends or family, and an evening of Shakespeare on the stage, adds up to loads of fun.
We went to the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon for our honeymoon. I had no clue about Shakespeare, and I found myself sleepy and uninterested during the performances. Nineteen years later, though, I can't wait to see another play. They are like old friends that we get to introduce our children to, and going on this late night adventure is a privilege that they look forward to each summer.
This afternoon will be the first round of reader's theater for A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I get to read Puck. I will probably have to be some other lesser character, too, but Puck is the role for me. Making mischief will be such fun.
We went to the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon for our honeymoon. I had no clue about Shakespeare, and I found myself sleepy and uninterested during the performances. Nineteen years later, though, I can't wait to see another play. They are like old friends that we get to introduce our children to, and going on this late night adventure is a privilege that they look forward to each summer.
This afternoon will be the first round of reader's theater for A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I get to read Puck. I will probably have to be some other lesser character, too, but Puck is the role for me. Making mischief will be such fun.
"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck,
Now to scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call.
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."
Learning to read
Heard three weeks ago, from our youngest son: "You know, life would be a lot more convenient if I could learn to read."
Heard today, from same young man: "I'm reading! I'm reading! Hey everyone! I am doing Explode the Code and I am learning to read and learning how to spell!"
Then, to make my joy overfloweth, the shouts of excitement came from all corners of the house. "Way to go!" "Hey, that's great!" "I remember Explode the Code. Wow, you're getting really big!"
So, life is getting more convenient for one funny little guy, and we all get to experience the joy.
Heard today, from same young man: "I'm reading! I'm reading! Hey everyone! I am doing Explode the Code and I am learning to read and learning how to spell!"
Then, to make my joy overfloweth, the shouts of excitement came from all corners of the house. "Way to go!" "Hey, that's great!" "I remember Explode the Code. Wow, you're getting really big!"
So, life is getting more convenient for one funny little guy, and we all get to experience the joy.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Summer Adventures
"Take me out to the ball game, Take me out with the crowd."
While I was typing away on Thursday night, my family was off to see a Giant's game at SBC Park in beautiful San Francisco. They had never been to the park before, and they had a fantastic time. My husband and baseball go WAY back, and he has passed on his enthusiasm to most of the crew. The one holdout has been our oldest daughter who has been, shall we gently say, reluctant to learn much about sports at all. But, she has friends that are avid baseball fans, and she was finally ready to listen to the baseball lore. They had to start at the very beginning, but her thoughts on learning the game were summed up with, "Well, Daddy, if I can do Latin-in-a-Week, surely I can do Baseball-in-a-Hour."
A comment in my own defense: I love baseball, would have gone, but work called. That, plus my semi-regular need to wander around quiet spaces all by myself surfaced at just the right moment to wave goodbye to my favorite people on earth. I am glad they had such fun, and I am glad they came home to tell me every single detail, from batting practice, to cotton candy in the sixth, to the drive home.
You will note the rather winterish looking garb on the gamers. Well, as Mark Twain said, "The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco." Oh, I love The City.
While I was typing away on Thursday night, my family was off to see a Giant's game at SBC Park in beautiful San Francisco. They had never been to the park before, and they had a fantastic time. My husband and baseball go WAY back, and he has passed on his enthusiasm to most of the crew. The one holdout has been our oldest daughter who has been, shall we gently say, reluctant to learn much about sports at all. But, she has friends that are avid baseball fans, and she was finally ready to listen to the baseball lore. They had to start at the very beginning, but her thoughts on learning the game were summed up with, "Well, Daddy, if I can do Latin-in-a-Week, surely I can do Baseball-in-a-Hour."
A comment in my own defense: I love baseball, would have gone, but work called. That, plus my semi-regular need to wander around quiet spaces all by myself surfaced at just the right moment to wave goodbye to my favorite people on earth. I am glad they had such fun, and I am glad they came home to tell me every single detail, from batting practice, to cotton candy in the sixth, to the drive home.
You will note the rather winterish looking garb on the gamers. Well, as Mark Twain said, "The coldest winter I ever spent was summer in San Francisco." Oh, I love The City.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Teacher Appreciation Day
Last month, on a warm and sleepy afternoon, my husband and children gathered in the living (everything) room to shower me with Teacher Appreciation Day speeches and presents. This was a tough school year for me. My brain felt like a bog (often), and I found myself plodding through the days a little closer to burn-out than I like to be. Age? Maybe. Stress? Possibly. Certain facts remain, though. I love home educating my children, my children learned a ton this year, and we made it through the bog.
In many ways, this year could be a "Best School Year" contender. The children grew in their ability to work independently, they saw me work hard when the ooey gooey feelings weren't there, and we all deepened our commitment to this lifestyle of learning. We observed and discovered, drew and evaluated, and battled through the subjects that were difficult. Each child also had an area where he or she could soar. Whether literature, languages, design, writing, or learning the basics, it was exciting for them to have a realm of learning that was easy and where their strengths were declared in all their magnificent glory.
I am grateful for my husband who was willing to be the inspiration for this event. Flowers, a few little gifts, and precious words that expressed thanks and appreciation with eloquence...it was a very special hour.
It may have been a tough year, but I am one blessed woman.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Soundtrack for a working Thursday evening
The whole family is off on a summer adventure this afternoon; I will be alone until the wee hours of the morning when they pull in the driveway from their trek.
Ah, savor the silence.
Eventually, though, it comes time to motivate. Today is a day to work, and I have pulled out some old favorites to serenade me as I type, type, type.
Carreras · Domingo · Pavarotti ~ the three tenors in concert
Fifteen years ago tonight, in Rome, these men dazzled their large audience. I wish I could have been there, all eight- and-a-half months pregnant that I was with my first child. I guess I had other things to do that night. What was I thinking? Well, 105 degrees outside and pregnant, I was probably thinking I would be the first woman to be pregnant forever. For many, many reasons, I am glad that I was wrong. And, since I was otherwise occupied on July 7, 1990, I am delighted that they recorded this great event for me, and for you.
Classic Wynton
Vivaldi, Handel, Bach, Haydn, Bernstein and more, played by Wynton Marsalis. Beautiful.
Windham Hill: The First Ten Years
Windham Hill holds a special place in my heart. Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, we were in the birthplace of this recording company. Will Ackerman, Alex de Grassi and George Winston were all favorites. Michael Hedges was someone we sat and listened to at the New Varsity Theater on Saturday nights. It's great to have a collection that includes these old friends, and others I hadn't known. The music that kept me company as I worked on last minute papers and reading for my college classes is the perfect choice for a work night alone.
Beethoven Symphonies Nos. 6, 8, 9
Everytime I consider that a deaf man wrote this music, I am overwhelmed with the wonder of it. And, it convinces me to be content with all my glaring limitations and just DO IT (whatever IT may be.) So, off to work I go. Happy listening.
Ah, savor the silence.
Eventually, though, it comes time to motivate. Today is a day to work, and I have pulled out some old favorites to serenade me as I type, type, type.
Carreras · Domingo · Pavarotti ~ the three tenors in concert
On the evening of July 7, 1990, an 'impossible dream' came true: the three greatest tenors of the day joined forces with an orchestra of 200 musicians against a backdrop of the majestic scenery of ancient Rome.
In the famous Baths of Caracalla in Rome, on a brilliant starlit night with a full moon rising, Jose Carreras, Placido Domingo, and Luciano Pavarotti, together with Maestro Zubin Mehta, presented an evening of arias, songs and medleys which was unique in musical history.
For the 6,000 fortunate people who crowded into Caracalla that evening, it was an experience never to be forgotten. This recording is a document of that special performance, recorded live on the occasion, as a souvenir for music-lovers everywhere.
Fifteen years ago tonight, in Rome, these men dazzled their large audience. I wish I could have been there, all eight- and-a-half months pregnant that I was with my first child. I guess I had other things to do that night. What was I thinking? Well, 105 degrees outside and pregnant, I was probably thinking I would be the first woman to be pregnant forever. For many, many reasons, I am glad that I was wrong. And, since I was otherwise occupied on July 7, 1990, I am delighted that they recorded this great event for me, and for you.
Classic Wynton
Vivaldi, Handel, Bach, Haydn, Bernstein and more, played by Wynton Marsalis. Beautiful.
Windham Hill: The First Ten Years
Windham Hill holds a special place in my heart. Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, we were in the birthplace of this recording company. Will Ackerman, Alex de Grassi and George Winston were all favorites. Michael Hedges was someone we sat and listened to at the New Varsity Theater on Saturday nights. It's great to have a collection that includes these old friends, and others I hadn't known. The music that kept me company as I worked on last minute papers and reading for my college classes is the perfect choice for a work night alone.
Beethoven Symphonies Nos. 6, 8, 9
Considering the obstacles and disabilities Beethoven had to contend with in later life (not least his deafness and constant ill-health), it is a wonder that much of his music is so genial. Of course, in the late string quartets and piano sonatas there is tragedy and suffering, but in works such as the Pastoral Symphony... it is clear that the composer could still write music of wit and joy.
Everytime I consider that a deaf man wrote this music, I am overwhelmed with the wonder of it. And, it convinces me to be content with all my glaring limitations and just DO IT (whatever IT may be.) So, off to work I go. Happy listening.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Pangur Ban
Pangur Ban
I and Pangur Ban, my cat,
'Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.
Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.
'Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.
Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.
'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.
When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!
So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.
Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.
Written by an unknown Irish Monk, a student of the monastery
of Carinthia, on a copy of St Paul's Epistles
8th or 9th century
I and Pangur Ban, my cat,
'Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.
Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.
'Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.
Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way;
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.
'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.
When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!
So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Ban, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.
Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.
Written by an unknown Irish Monk, a student of the monastery
of Carinthia, on a copy of St Paul's Epistles
8th or 9th century
Science and the Trinity (again)
I first mentioned John Polkinghorne's book, Science and the Trinity: The Christian Encounter with Reality (here). The book is ordered, and should be in the next amazon.com box to land on the front deck, but I just read another review of the book in the current issue of Books and Culture.
Come on Mr. UPS man. I can't wait to get this book.
"Science and the Trinity...expands on the scientist-theologian's 2003 Warfield Lectures at Princeton Theological Seminary. The title and subtitle convey the distinctives of Polkinghorne's approach. On the one hand, as the title suggests, this is not really a treatise on"science and religion," with religion left so ill-defined that the book will frustrate practitioners of any actual faith. Polkinghorne is convinced that Trinitarian theology, anchored in the "scandalous particularity of the incarnation," is a better vantage point for engaging science than religion in the abstract. On the other hand, as the subtitle suggests, twenty years of work as a theoretical physicist have led Polkinghorne to the conviction that science delivers truth about reality, and he is determined not to evade the implications that reality may have for the theory and practice of Christian faith. His account of science and Christian theology succeeds unusually well in doing justice to both sides of the conversation."
Come on Mr. UPS man. I can't wait to get this book.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Listening to Your Life
"If literature is a metaphor for the writer's experience, a mirror in which that experience is at least partially reflected, it is at the same time a mirror in which the reader can also see his or her experience reflected in a new and potentially transforming way. This is what it is like to search for God in a world where cruelty and pain hide God, Dostoevski says - "How like a winter hath my absence been from thee"; how like seeing a poor woman in a dream with a starving child at her breast; how like Father Zossima kneeling down at the feet of Dmitri Karamazov because he sees that great suffering is in store for him and because he knows, as John Donne did, that suffering is holy. And you and I, his readers, come away from our reading with no more proof of the existence or nonexistence of God than we had before, with no particular moral or message to frame on the wall, but empowered by a new sense of the depths of love and pity and hope that is transmitted to us through Dostoevski's powerful words.
Words written fifty years ago, a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, can have as much of this power today as ever they had it then to come alive for us and in us and to make us more alive within ourselves. That, I suppose, is the final mystery as well as the final power of words: that not even across great distances of time and space do they ever lose their capacity for becoming incarnate."
Listening to Your Life, by Frederick Buechner.
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