Saying Thanks

A colleague of mine who served in Bosnia pointed out this website as an easy and powerful way to encourage our troops.

Fabulous New Blog Alert!

Kendall's Lifelong kindred spirit, and one of our families' special blessings, Kiki, has also recently started a blog. If you want some brilliant writing from an an amazing perspective, check it out. My favorite post is her proposal story & thoughts on marriage: good stuff for everyone.

New Addiction Brewing:

It's called dogster. How long will I resist starting Una on her own blog? I'm feeling like a little someone called Deery Lou ought to consider this as well.

Gonna be a long one

No computer access at work today. But isn't Jack cute when he yawns?

La Vie de Boo

And by the way everyone, another sister has rejoined the blogosphere. Our baby sister, Becca, aka Boo, aka The Elf, has started a new blog that is tres belle, just like her.

And currently on the shelf:

For the past oh, 7 years or so I've been on a strictly old book diet. If it was written in the 20th century or later, I wasn't much interested. But lately that has changed. I want to sample what's current. I want to actually read a few of the books they talk about on Dad's favorite channel: Cspan's BookTV. This has been going on all summer, and to stretch it out a bit further...

I just visited one of my libraries this weekend and checked out the following:

From James Bradley: Flyboys: A True Story of True Courage
Because reading these stories always promises a strong dose of the good and the noble, and many of these heroes are still available for interview, including my own Papa.

From Thomas Cahill: Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter
Because I love Homer, Edith Hamilton, and the stories my husband's advisor (who is from Cyprus) tells, and in general, everything I hear about Greece.

From Lyn Brown & Sharon Lamb: Packaging Girlhood, Rescuing Our Daughters from Marketer's Schemes
Because I like hearing different views on womanhood and am fascinated by the new wave of anti-feministic feminism.

From Edward Klein: The Kennedy Curse: Why Tragedy Has Haunted America's First Family for 150 Years,
Because it seems to come up often in conversation & it's always nice to have a recent source.

From Mireille Guiliano:
French Women Don't Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure
Because I started reading this at Kendall's house and am addicted to Mireille's writing, her methods, and her style.

From Michael Moore: Dude Where's My Country
Because enough people quote him at me that I'd like to at least be able to say I read the book before ranting against the man. It helps one to not be shrill.

I'm taking a break from classics, except for Female Piety (James Angell James) and War & Peace (Tolstoy). I just can't get into Part II!

La Bibliotheque

Winter Park Public Library

My mother took great care to instill in us a love of books. We were read to in the womb, in the rocking chair, in the car, in the waiting room, and in the "school room" daily. My father took the evening shift, reading to us from the "God Book" (Ergemeier's Bible Story Book) which had been handed down from both sides of the family. Our favorite was the handwriting on the wall. After a Bible story we would read from something else: Lewis or Alcott, or Burnett, or Kipling--or if dad was in creative mode he would tell us about the Laughing Man, his own improvisions from Salinger's short story. They were the best of all.

But the reading frenzy did not just occur in the home. Twice a week, Kendall and I went for piano lessons with Mr. Roberts. Each lesson was a 1/2 hour, and my mother would drop one of us off at Winter Park Public Library and then alternate us for the next lesson.

Winter Park was, hands down, the best library I have ever held a card for. I'm sure if I visited now it would seem smaller and older, and not so majestic as it did to my 8-year-old self. The children's section was massive and contained the entire fairy book collection by Andrew Lang (the blue fairy book, the pink fairy book, etc), Cricket magazines from as far back as the 1960's, the entire Mrs. Goose collection, and all of the tales from the West Wind books; in short, most of its inventory were out of print at the time. We devoured them.

On Top of its magnificent selection, the library had a full grown tree right in its center. And a man who was there every time we went who had never cut his hair. It looked like a plank of dark wood, long, and matted, and sometimes he carried it in his hands. He added to the library's magic.

My favorite nook there was the window room, a large room like a green house with no furniture, only huge pillows and cushions for children's reading When I went I usually picked out 10-20 books and headed for the window room until it grew too dark to see.

I loved that library so much that I signed up to be a library volunteer there when I was nine years old. I got the idea because once another girl only a few years older than me checked our books out. She quickly took the cards out of their pockets in each book and put them into a stamper, and each time there was a delightul resounding "smack" when the card was stamped. Oh, how I envied her. I wanted nothing more than to be the book stamper girl. I begged my mother, who called the librarian, who interviewed me, and who agreed to let me volunteer.

My job, however, was not stamping. It was shelving. I was to take a cart of books, check them for damages, and put them on the appropriate shelf in the library. How nine-year-olds were allowed to do this, I'm not sure, but I failed miserably. It was the first foreshadowing of my life-long taskmaster's struggle. As I checked each book for damages I wanted to just see what it was about, and usually ended up reading the whole thing from cover to cover. Oops.

I sat only a few yards away from the stamper, but was never promoted. I could never finish shelving the cart, because I was reading every book on it.

I didn't volunteer for very long. I don't think I was fired; I quit. I went back to the window room with my pile of books and was content there to stay. As much as I love the idea of being a librarian, I don't think I could ever muster up the discipline not to read each book as I put it away.

I mention all this because I have the delightful privilege of currently enjoying two libraries through my work, Neither of Which Gives me Late Fees! Originally I meant to write about the many years of drama that have ensued between myself and various libraries and the trouble I have always had getting books back on time, but good memories are far better to share.

Feeling Thankful

Thanks to you who pray for me--I wrote a fairly morose post a week or two ago about my not returning to school this year, but instead staying at my job...

God has outrageously blessed me by opening my eyes to His intimate provisions. Such as:

--daily updates on my precious nephew & siblings
--work collegues and superiors who make me laugh and are excited about Great Books
--new projects at work that are challenge and related to my interests & experiences
--phone calls from old friends & surprise emails from even older friends
--wonderful fellowship with our church family and the joy of taking part in ministry
--fresh basil, with which I'm about to make pesto & peas
--a dog who gets sweeter every day
--a yard bursting with hibiscus, roses, snapdragons, and Rose of Sharon on which hummingbirds feast within arm's reach
--and most of all, the best husband in the world who lavishes me with grace, love, and fun.

Camp

This weekend Husband and I went to family camp with our church and several other like-minded churches. It was a blessed time. Different camps have played a deep role in my spiritual journey as places of retreat and fellowship. It will always be a very special renewal to me to go back to camp, whether in New Mexico or New York or Wisconsin or Nassau, to sing and to listen, to play and to be still.

--and now even more special to share with my little family this time.

We sang together.

And lived in this strange little hogan.


We made new friends.

And Una made new friends too.

When we got home Una seemed a little lonely.

So we took her on a little hike.

This way, everyone!

Our good friend & devoted teacher Mike Warner has set up a sweet blog with updates on his recent move to the U.K. From his most recent post re: Superman:

But do I need Superman? I think I do -- even with Jesus as a our "hero" and role model, having characters in fiction and other mentors here on earth certainly are used by God to inspire me to greater things. Whether it's Frodo and Sam, Braveheart, or Superman, my vision is pointed to the greater good -- despite each hero's personal faults. I'm glad Superman's back, and I'll be a lot more glad when Jesus comes back to really put all things to right.

Amen to that.

The Dimps

Definitely come from his Daddy's side.

Jaxon Highlights

Saying Hi to Jack & Mom at the airport.

Nanny says the highlight of 80 years is Pawpaw.

Nanny's birthday dinner.

Putting together Kendall's new nursery rocker.

Leaving for the Hospital.

Dad bringing extra towels for fear of roadside delivery.

The agony of the waiting room.

Good Job, Dr. Pirkle!

Open eyes...

Proud Aunts & Uncles

I got to help feed him in between breastfeeding.

Proud Nana with baby.

Dad & Colquitt Grandparents.

David & I caught a Tides game.

I'm so sad to leave.

But I do have this waiting for me at home...

Aunt Grumps & Uncle D

I promise, more pictures soon. We're all about to go back to the condo.

Welcome Jaxon Walter! 5.45 a.m. 7 lb. 2 oz

He's here!! Kendall did amazing work--she was not MI track & field state champ for nothing. Ricky & Mom supported all night, Ricky, Boo & Mom coached through delivery, and the rest of us heard through the door. As soon as Jaxon arrived the Dr. let us in (kind of) for photos; here are a few.

5 a.m. EST update...apologies for incoherence.

8 cm & on the home stretch. Becca, Dad, and I wimped out and slept for 2 hours @ nearby hotel. We arrived back in time for a whole nother level of the curse works.

But best of all! Brother just walked in to surprise Kendall (and us!).

It's time. More later.

BTW, this photo is of Kendall holding David as a newborn, June, 1983.

It's like a marathon: Jaxon is on the Move

We are still at the Colquitt home as Kendall wanted as much of the labor as possible to happen at home. Looks like the hospital trip will happen within the next two hours or so, as contractions have been speeding up quicker than we anticipated.

To pray for: energy and safety for Kendall & devoted husband Ricky (he drew the analogy between this & marathons), direction and gentleness for all concerned family members present, and most of all for the soul and character of little Jaxon and the man he will become.

Stay tuned & much love. Praise God from whom all Blessing flow.

While We Wait

Dophins on the beach at dawn with the elf.

Baby Jaxon has yet to surface.

Moving Day

Last night we said farewell to Loady, one of our dearest college friends who leaves Albuquerque for a Ph.D. program at Texas A&M.

It was sad.

And tonight we're saying goodbye to Grant & Kelly, some of our dearest church friends who leave Albuquerque for a future in euchre somewhere in the Midwest.

It is sad.

Moving is hard, but in many ways, worth it. I'm grateful for all the places God has allowed me to live in, each precious in its own way. Moving makes the world seem smaller and America more familiar. And moving justifies lots of singing of "Friends are friends forever," and "Pray for me," by Michael W. Smith. "My place in this world" by him is also a good moving song.

Another thing I always wanted to do when I moved away was to schedule a synchronized outdoor singing of "Somewhere out there" from American Tail with a distant friend. I don't think I ever actually did this, but I always thought it would be the coolest thing ever to do. If any of my distant readers actually want to try this, I'm game.

If not, at least we can still blog!

Jaxon Eve

Announcement!!

It is now the eve of baby Jaxon's anticipated arrival date, which is, coincidentally, also the eve of Ricky and Kendall's anniversary.

Of course, I'm hoping he holds off until I arrive on the 6th, but for Kendall's sake I'm happy if he gets here on time as well.

So, dearest sister, my best and bloggiest wishes to you--and I can't wait to be there and hug you, papa Ricky, and baby J myself!

Prayers and blessings and see you soon!

Please visit Kendall's blog to wish her well in the final (no pun intended) push.

Ever Striving: Robinson Crusoe & the Mean Reds

It's the first August of my life that hasn't been a doorway to something new. Having always been either a student or a teacher, I always look at the closing of summer with excitement at what the fall holds in store. Not this year.

I will still keep coming to work, to a desk of walls and calendars, doing the same kinds of tasks I have been doing for the past 1.5 years. This was mortally depressing to me, until I remembered something my dad read to us one Thanksgiving several years ago from Defoe's Robinson Crusoe.

If you don't know the story, read the whole thing. Now. This is from chapter 12:

The rainy Season of the Autumnal Equinox was now come, and I kept the 30th of Sept. in the same solemn Manner as before, being the Anniversary of my Landing on the Island, having now been there two Years, and no more Prospect of being deliver'd, than the first Day I came there. I spent the whole Day in humble and thankful Acknowledgments of the many wonderful Mercies which my Solitary Condition was attended with, and without which it might have been infinitely more miserable. I gave humble and hearty Thanks that God had been pleas'd to discover to me, even that it was possible I might be more happy in this Solitary Condition, than I should have been in a Liberty of Society, and in all the Pleasures of the World. That he could fully make up to me, the Deficiencies of my Solitary State, and the want of Humane Society by his Presence, and the Communications of his Grace to my Soul, supporting, comforting, and encouraging me to depend upon his Providence here, and hope for his Eternal Presence hereafter.

It was now that I began sensibly to feel how much more happy this Life I now led was, with all its miserable Circumstances, than the wicked, cursed, abominable Life I led all the past Part of my Days; and now I chang'd both my Sorrows and my Joys; my very Desires alter'd, my Affections chang'd their Gusts, land my Delights were perfectly new, from what they were at my first Coming, or indeed for the two Years past.

Before, as I walk'd about, either on, my Hunting, or for viewing the Country, the Anguish of my Soul at my Condition, would break out upon me on a sudden, and my very Heart would die within me, to think of the Woods, the Mountains, the Desarts I was in; and how I was a Prisoner lock'd up with the Eternal Bars and Bolts of the Ocean, in an uninhabited Wilderness, without Redemption: In the midst of the greatest Composures of my Mind, this would break out upon me like a Storm, and make me wring my Hands, and weep like a Child: Sometimes it would take me in the middle of my Work, and I would immediately sit down and sigh, and look upon the Ground for an Hour or -two together; and this was still worse to me; for if I could burst out into Tears, or vent my self by Words, it would go off, and the Grief having exhausted it self would abate.

But now I began to exercise my self with new Thoughts; I daily read the Word of God, and apply'd all the Comforts of it to my present State: One Morning being very sad, I open'd the Bible upon these Words, I will never, never leave thee, nor forsake thee; immediately it occurr'd, That these Words were to me, Why else should they be directed in such a Manner, just at the Moment when I was mourning over my Condition, as one forsaken of God and Man? Well then, said I, if God does not forsake me, of what ill Consequence can it be, or what matters it, though the World should all forsake me, seeing on the other Hand, if I had all the World, and should lose the Favour and Blessing of God, there wou'd be no Comparison in the Loss.

From this Moment I began to conclude in my Mind, That it was possible for me to be more happy in this forsaken Solitary Condition, than it was probable I should ever have been in any other Particular State in the World; and with this Thought I was going to give Thanks to God for bringing me to this Place.


This bit goes very well with Psalm 77, one of my very favorites. A quick remedy for the Mean Reds.