Stranger than Fiction

"As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause."

The first Sunday of Advent

Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Come, Thou long expected Jesus
Born to set Thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in Thee.
Israel’s Strength and Consolation,
Hope of all the earth Thou art;
Dear Desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.


Born Thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring.
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone;
By Thine all sufficient merit,
Raise us to Thy glorious throne.

Wendell Berry: Leavings

VIII.

I tremble with gratitude
for my children and their children
who take pleasure in one another.

In our dinners together, the dead
enter and pass among us
in living love and in memory.

And so the young are taught.

~2005~

The candle glow of silver, passed down by those now gone. But remembered.

A Rainy Tree Day

Hereafter to be referred to as Quick Decision Weather.

The goals:

Gram's tree: "A little taller than you, Claire, and fat."
Our tree: "Reach-to-the-stars-tall and on the skinny side."

The Laurel and Hardy trees we could call them, Stanley and Ollie to friends.

We zip our coats, put up our hoods, and run. Up the hill, grab the saw, grab the measuring pole. Within thirty seconds we find Gram's tree. Without being asked twice, the oldest son saws it down. Hello, Ollie! Run on down the lane. Five minutes later, at the most, we find ours. Saw, saw, saw, down it comes. Hello Stanley!

Run down the hill. DONE!

We had paid, trees were on the van roof, and we on our way out of the parking lot ten minutes after we arrived.

And soaked through.

And full of happiness.

Soundtrack:

And when we got home...sunshine. Of course.

Thanksgiving in pictures

The day began with the rosy fingers of dawn on the horizon.

The food and drink and ambiance were perfect.

The room was filled with loved ones.



We laughed and worked and ate (and ate.) It was particularly joyful because my mother was here in all her spunky glory.

A niece's family, including two darling boys, brought back memories of our two-under-two years. Children are a gift!


And now the rain is pouring down on the roof, leaves are tumbling leaf-over-stem down to the driveway, and the fog is swirling in and through the valley view.

What a perfect holiday!

Christmas Gift Idea: Bug Soap

If you are looking for fun and useful stocking stuffers, or other Christmas gifts, I recommend you check out Bug Soap. This is a small business run by a delightful and hard working fourteen-year-old friend; we love these soaps (and this girl)!

Happy Thanksgiving

For The Beauty Of The Earth

For the beauty of the earth,
For the beauty of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the beauty of each hour
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon and stars of light,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth, and friends above,
Pleasures pure and undefiled,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

For each perfect gift of thine,
To our race so freely given,
Graces human and divine,
Flowers of earth and buds of heaven,
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our grateful hymn of praise.

Gratitude for a trip north

314. Two nine-hour drives with my husband. Time for:
315. Much needed sleep. And
316. Eric Bibb. And



317. Till We Have Faces from Blackstone Audio. What a fantastic story! The only problem is we got home in the midst of disc six. I suppose we could have driven around the neighborhood until it was over, but we chose to turn up our road instead. Sometime this weekend we'll have to finish the tale.

318. Beautiful fall weather for driving.

Including:
319. Snow on the passes,
320. Long autumn shadows across golden hills,
321. Rice fields under water,
322. Rain splashing down.

More reasons to love the drive:
323. Cows, cows and more cows. I love cows,
324. Hot, steaming espresso just when we needed it,
325. Silence when we wanted it,
326. Talking as long as we wanted to.

327. The ability to leave for three days without fear. This included:
328. A responsible son who is willing to organize and transport those we left behind.
329. A friend who cheerfully offered, without being asked, to take all my children.
330. My mother's stable health that allowed us to leave.

The greatest thanks is for our visit with our girl at Gutenberg College, including:

331. One-and-a-half days of attending classes, a favorite being a
332. Lively discussion about Jonathan Edwards and the First Great Awakening.
333. Making cranberry salsa in the school kitchen, enjoying conversation with residents as they came in and out.
334. Making espresso in the same kitchen, sharing stories and laughing with the house manager.

335. Visits at cafes with our girl. Hearing her stories, hearing her golden bells of laughter, just being together.
336. Oh, I love that girl.
336. The Best Dessert Ever: Guinness Bread Pudding. Yumola.


337. At last, gratitude for the safe arrival home.
338. A clean house with candles aglow when we arrived.
339. Happy children showing no signs of trauma from our absence.
340-342. Hot bath, warm bed, deep sleep. Aaah.

And now we are busy cleaning, cooking and generally preparing for Thanksgiving. A favorite day to gather family and eat great food. Cannot wait.


Maybe I should rename this Multitude Wednesday?

Leavings

When Wendell Berry was in San Francisco earlier this month, the greatest part of the evening was when he quietly pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it and read to us a new poem. I have no idea when I will get to read it for myself, to remember his words with my mind that forgets too easily, but the recitation of that one poem was enough impetus for me to purchase his newest collection of poetry. I may not remember the sublime words he read that perfect night, but I can savor Leavings until the words sink in and penetrate my heart.

I.

I know that I have life
Only insofar as I have love.

I have no love
except it come from Thee.

Help me, please, to carry
this candle against the wind.

~2005~




Signed...how sweet is that?

Here we go again....

Resolved: That the United States Federal Government should significantly reform its environmental policy.

The suits are ready, the lunch is packed, the debate case is being finalized (yes, finalized the night before the first debate round robin), and the excitement is palpable. I am not ready to get up at four *you've got to be kidding me* thirty, but it goes with the territory, like it or not.

Look out Stoa! Pope/Wheeler and Pope/Wheeler are hitting Santa Rosa tomorrow morning.

For my crazy girl in Oregon

who asked, "When you come up to see me....do you think you could bring...a DUCK?"

How many different ways can I possibly say no? No. No. No. NNNNNOOOOO!

This was all part of a very difficult phone conversation where we decided she would not be coming home for Thanksgiving. Our favorite holiday. Full of traditions we do every.single.year, and this being my Tradition Girl. No coming home for Thanksgiving. Sigh. Unhappy sigh. And why is she not coming home? Oh, you had to ask. Sadly, I was supposed to purchase a train ticket to get her back to Oregon, and by the time I did they were sold out. Call me dumb, but it never occurred to me that there were enough people traveling on that huge train for them to run out of seats. I am no longer dumb (in that particular knowledge set.)

We made a rather happy compromise. The mommy and daddy (sans duck) are going to drive up to see her, attend some classes, drink coffee in cool Eugene cafes, and talk as much as we possibly can. She'll have papers due, classes to prep for, but we'll read our pleasure reading while she slaves and enjoy her while we can.

Now I am not here to say that she preyed upon my guilt when she asked me to bring a DUCK when we come north. Let's just say I was not tempted for a second. Not one second.

Instead, crazy person, I offer you pictures:

They are so happy in the water, so happy together, so happy in their stinky, mucky duck coop. And happy there they will stay. And they will be waiting for you when you arrive home in December.


(And, yes, the tickets are purchased.)

Conversation at the doctor's office

Dear, wonderful, beloved Dr. K:

Jean, I really do think you are going to be around for a while longer than we expected, so I don't want you back in here for three months. Call me if you need me sooner, but I don't want you in the waiting room catching an illness. I'll see you in three months. And, Jean....behave yourself.

Dear, wonderful, beloved Mom:

But last time you told me I didn't have to behave myself anymore.

Dr. K:

Well, you're living long enough that I have to rescind that.

And laughter was heard all the way down the hall.

Hello again

Since I have last posted, I have been to San Francisco twice, and my mother has gained back her hearing and lost it again. Oh, life is a whirlwind of giveth and taketh away.

One trip to San Francisco was to hear Wendell Berry interviewed by Michael Pollan. I am still feeding off the gentle cadence of Mr. Berry's words, still thinking and wondering and staring out my living room window. I must believe wisdom lives out across those oak-covered golden hills...I stare until the light bulb goes on. Sometimes it takes a really long time.

I shook Mr. Berry's hand, told him thank you, and he signed three of my books. Three. One is on its way to Eugene, Oregon for a certain college girl to enjoy, but the others are on the table by my side. I do love having a signed book.

Was it more of a thrill hearing Wendell Berry, or being with Carol again? Or hearing her brother sing...in ITALIAN? These are the best kinds of hard choices.

More on Wendell Berry at another time.

The other visit to the city by the bay was for last night's 49er game. If that juxtaposition of activities doesn't make you spin, something's wrong. There was nothing of the peaceful Kentucky drawl and wisdom in the loud and raucous rows of tailgaters. It was beer and football and red face paint and (no-so-)questionable smoke wafting across the rows of red and gold and loud. It was teenage boy fun, had by teenage boys and their parents, and we had a blast. We are hoarse from screaming, but they won and made every raspy voice worth it. And, Lisa, I can still taste the garlic fries. Just wanted you to know.

This and that

This:

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

HT: Happy Food via friend Tonia.

Old nonsense...that's what so much of it is!

and this:

A poem posted by Miz Booshay gifted me with this heart-rate reducing line:

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

Read the whole poem: The Lake Isle of Innisfree
by William Butler Yeats

and that:

Sometimes it takes a creative girl's words to paint the picture of where I have been:

Once Upon A Time...

... there was a girl named Adeline (my readers can change this to Diane.) She had a busy life and kept forgetting to post on her blog. She felt bad, though, and wanted her readers to know that she's been listening to awesome music and coloring the world. And one day she will return again, and all will be right where music is heard.

CiRCE: Support Western Civilization

I feel deep gratitude for Andrew Kern and the work he is doing with the CiRCE Institute. Several years ago, we attended a conference where Andrew spoke in California and I came away a little stunned. He didn't fill in any blanks for me; if anything, he created a few. He made me think, HARD, for years after that week-end. Our three oldest came with us to that conference, and later I found this above my son's desk:

Classical education is the cultivation of wisdom, virtue and taste through
meditation on the good, the true and the beautiful.

~Andrew Kern~

If I could take one thing away from a conference for the rest of my life's thinking, that would do. To know that my thirteen or fourteen-year-old son took that away from a conference, and kept it on his wall for posterity, was a strange and wonderful thing. This man speaks in a way that resonates.

Andrew is not the man I go to for a list of ten things to do at any particular age in a child's life. He is the man I go to for an understanding of the enormity and awe-inspiring task it is to teach whole, made-in-God's image, people. He won't give you an easy answer; he will respect you and expect you to THINK and ASK and WONDER and THINK some more. Andrew is not brain candy. He is soul food.

I am sure that CiRCE is not the only organization to wonder at the end of the fiscal year how they will make it much further. If I could be their generous benefactress, I would, but instead I want to let you know about a great offer they have going right now. From their website:

If you are in a position to donate even a little, please consider doing so. Your generosity will go a long way towards enabling us to fulfill our mission and accomplish our goals.

In return, we promise to continue teaching, training, and researching. We promise to keep on spreading the word. We promise to continue providing inspiration. We promise that, if you will stand by our side, we will continue to stand by yours. Together we'll take this mission, this vision, this calling further up and further in!

As thanks for your generosity, we are offering downloadable materials for anyone who makes even the smallest donation. No gift is too small. No gift is too large. Whether you donate $1 or $100 or $1000 there is a gift waiting for you.

In return for your help, you will be able to download talks like Debbie Harris's popular talk Understanding and Instilling a Love of Beauty, and Andrew Pudewa's useful and inspiring, Teaching Boys and Other Kids Who Would Rather Be Playing In Forts. You can also download Ken Myers' talk on how to Re-educate Oneself As An Adult, or Laura Berquist's insightful talk about Assessing Student Performance.

To get these talks, and others like them, just go here and make a donation of whatever amount you feel
comfortable giving. For even $1 these talks are yours.

With our sincerest thanks,
The CiRCE Institute

Contemplation of Nature by Andrew Kern is on that list of available downloads. I cannot recommend it enough. It is great fodder for discussion, even if the only person you have to discuss it with is yourself. Ask my how I know! Support CiRCE: expand your thinking and do your children, your family, your soul a favor.