Appley

That's an adjective. Describes how I'm feeling. Sitting typing this on our new iMac. What is the "i" for? Wondered the same thing when I got my iPod.

Kevin is sitting beside me and his excitement about this new toy is palpable. Mostly, I feel I've just arrived in a new town and don't know my way around. That's okay. This town has fewer wires and pieces and I'm all about less clutter.

In other news, just moments ago I was still asleep and dreaming that I was going to Bulgaria. I was mostly worried about using my purse instead of a passport carrier. And get this, our flight went from home to Switzerland, to France, to Baker. Yes, that's right - Baker, California. Last stop en route to Bulgaria. And we had an overnight there. A true nightmare.

Did I mention Kevin was sitting right here? So I need to end this digression and go on in my new computer tutorial.

Happy Saturday from the new Apple!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

- I gave up reading Little Dorrit. It is a testimony to some super-odd personality issue/trait that I read 300 pages before throwing in the towel. That's like being married 35 years and then getting divorced! Who DOES that? Weirdos, I tell you.

- Laura asked if I'm still off sugar. The answer is yes. Next question: am I still tempted every single day to throw in the towel and scarf down a half-gal of ice cream and a couple spoonfuls of Betty Crocker chocolate frosting? The answer is yes. Some days are easier than others.

- Suzie asked when I have time to read. I almost always read whatever current novel I'm enjoying in the morning, before the kids are up, along with scripture and something else spiritual. I take a full hour. This is a new practice since Lent. Also, we have "quiet" time in the afternoon from roughly 1:00 to 2:00 p.m. During that time, John naps, the older three play in their rooms, and I read/pray/nap. Finally, I frequently read at bedtime. If Kevin is involved in a book, we read together on the couch downstairs even before bedtime. Today when the kids had P.E. class, I brought my book to the park and read about a paragraph before there were friends there to chat with. Current read - Home Before Morning, The True Story of an Army Nurse in Vietnam, by Lynda Van Devanter. I already like Ms. Van Devanter FAR more than Charles Dickens. Oodles more. Tons. Buckets. Loads.

- I have to make a confession. I have been watching "19 Kids and Counting". It is fascinating from an anthropological/sociological standpoint, a family standpoint, a media studies standpoint, a psychological standpoint, a housekeeping standpoint, a middle-American cultural standpoint, and a nosy-busybody-gawk-at-someone-else's-life standpoint. I find myself peering at each younger child and wondering which one will write an expose twenty years from now. Call me cynical. It won't be the first time.

Thinking of St. Patrick

In addition to having a plan for what green to wear today, I'm thinking of St. Patrick. I read a little about him last night, but my retention was low, so I don't have any profound truth to share. What I do find myself thinking about is suffering. All the saints have crazy stories of suffering and following Jesus at high cost. I weep to think how much I DON'T want to suffer. I told Jesus earlier (with a smile through the tears) that I'd like to see a list of the possible ways I might suffer in my life and be allowed to cross off the things I think would be "too much". For example, I might accept another labor and delivery, but ixnay the uterine cancer.

I was reading about Hope in The Virtue Driven Life just now and there was a story of a young man dying of AIDS who from his hospital bed saw the angels coming for him. What hope and confidence! I don't feel worthy to have the angels and saints come welcoming me into heaven. Now don't get all Protestant-view-of-justification on me. I know what it means that Jesus died for me. But I do see a bigger picture now, and I see the saints interceding for me. I even felt driven earlier to ask Blessed Teresa of Calcutta to pray for me. But I realize the need, too, to strive to align my life more with the saints' lives. And, most of all with the cross of Jesus. So, in that, I could sure use YOUR prayers, too!

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I'm off to don the jeans and the green t-shirt.

And miles to read before I sleep

Do I sound at ALL like Robert Frost? I'm trying to...

I came home from Sacramento feeling quite elated. ("I" being "me minus my quads", and a little bit of my hip flexors.) To compound the elation, there were scads of books all over the house. Next year's homeschool books came in (joy!) along with a rather large shipment from Amazon. Kevin had some birthday money that he chose to spend on books and we used a little extra cash in the budget to purchase a few for me, too.

I know you're dying to hear the titles. Maybe I'm just dying to share.

(Keep in mind my previous post about all that I'm trying to zoom through right now reading-wise and you'll be able to picture the Everest-height pile of books on my nightstand. I can't read fast enough!)

Kevin's pile:
An Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, by John Henry Cardinal Newman
By What Authority? - An Evangelical Discovers Catholic Tradition, by Mark Shea (who rocks!)
Our Lady of Guadalupe, by Carl Anderson and Msgr. Eduardo Chavez
Philosophy 101 by Socrates (An Introduction to Philosophy Via Plato's Apology), by Peter Kreeft
Be a Man! by Fr. Larry Richards
Answering the New Atheism, by Scott Hahn and Benjamin Wiker

And my pile, which is interspersed with one book to read the kids and two that Kevin and I are going read together-ish:
The Tale of Despereaux, by Kate DiCamillo (thanks, Suzie! I'll let you know how it goes for us)
Three Cups of Tea, by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin (a recommend from the Richardsons... much thanks!)
Mountains Beyond Mountains, by Tracy Kidder (also a Richardson recommend)
The Help, by Kathryn Stockett (which Kevin heard something about and thought I'd like - set in Mississippi, 1962)
Life of Pi, by Yann Martel (I've wanted to read this for years, ever since Fr. David in Yucaipa mentioned it in one of his homilies and the plot intrigued me. You'd have to be a brick not to be intrigued by the plot.)

Sacramento Sunday

When I was a reporter for the Rebel Yell in college, the thing I liked most about the job was getting into places and meeting people that I otherwise wouldn't. I can say the same now, a million years later, about running.

Yesterday in Sacramento, the sun came up at 7:19, and by ten after eight, I was running across Tower Bridge on Capitol Avenue with the bright sun and the capitol building side by side in my view.

Right at the end of the bridge, there was a small crowd gathered for our group of runners and they cheered for me. A high point of the race, for sure.

At the 5K mark, I allowed myself a long glance at my GPS and was thrilled to see that I was 32 minutes in. WAY better than my slow, slow race in Prescott and right on track to beat my 7-mile practice run which took an hour and a half.

Topping every hill, (there were just a few, and they weren't as bad as in my neighborhood) I felt exhausted but counseled myself not to slow down or stop knowing I'd recover in a second. Once the recovery happened, I tried to speed up. It was the first time in a race that I coherently talked myself through some tough spots and kept up a little strategy.

Going into Old Town brought back memories of our Hanford days when we'd take the train up to Sacramento and visit the train museum with our two kids at the time. I ran by the museum with memories of those few visits and they kept me going - along with the nice little downhill right after the museum.

By mile 6, I was ready to stop. My right knee started to kill and I walked for the first time. Maybe ten steps, and then the thought of Mike waiting at the exchange zone got me jogging again. It was discouraging to look at the GPS and see my pace was over 12 minutes at that point. Then that glorious 7-mile marker appeared and next I saw Mike's face and he told me "An hour and twenty!" and high-fived me and took off. I stopped my watch, I shut down the i-Pod, which I don't have much memory of hearing, and walked around in a daze for just a minute before grabbing some water and pulling myself together to look for Layla and cheer for her finish.

Besides the thrill of running another race, and a new distance, the best part of this weekend was seeing old friends and meeting some new. It was a tiny bit wild to hang out with so many InterVarsity folks, with my student and staff life now so far in the past, but still has the same feeling of familiarity and fast friendship that it always did for me. I'm glad Rob inspired this, thrilled that Mike asked me to run with him, and grateful to have had the chance to see a million friends I've known for decades, plus see some of the "new generation" of Inter Varsity staff in my old area and beyond. What a dream. I'm still floating a little. Sore quads, but still floating. When's the next race?








Love to: partner Mike, host Heather, host Mike, little Martin, in-utero "Toby", Larry, Nina, Daniel, Shawn, Nathan, Layla, support-crew Lauren, Noemi, Madeline, water-and-wastewater-engineer-neighbor-to-the-Haights Mike, his tall friend, his wife the "other" Heather who I didn't see this time, Fleet Feet, Gustavo my new life coach (seriously, and he only charged ten bucks), Becca (sp?) and her whole family and their cool portrait with the tree and their plates from Marshalls, her boyfriend who ran great and had an equally great smile but whose name I've forgotten, Rob, Amy, Lucy, Lily and that amazing chocolate cake, James, Tina, Adam, Todd and Daniel. I didn't make it to the goat farm, but for the record, I thought of it.

I can check a meat cleaver,

but no-go in my carry-on. I went to the TSA website to refresh my memory about what I can and can't bring in my suitcase. My main concerns being: deodorant, hairspray, and a flask. Oh, wait --- I'm going on this trip ALONE. I won't need the flask after all. Only if the kids were coming.

Side question: Why would anyone (other than a professional butcher en route to a convention in Germany) need to check a meat cleaver? It's a mystery to me.

I'm off to Sacramento tomorrow. I look forward to visiting my parallel partner and good friend Heather and her family. And I aspire to run 7.1 miles in a relay with Mike Nalley. In under 90 minutes, mark my words, okay? Other than visiting and running - I plan to get in some reading, journalling, prayer time, and general relaxation.

Now to go pack everything but a meat cleaver.

I'm becoming a therapist!

At least then when I analyze myself, it will be a professional opinion, not just an amateur.

I've been a basket case this week. More yelling than usual, a nervous stomach, some mild depression. What's up?

Part of it is leaving town for the weekend. I'm taking a jet plane to an exotic locale to run a relay with my former coworker. I like to leave the laundry done, the frig full, and the house somewhat clean before I go.

Part of it is realizing after two and a half years here that we're still in limbo. If this is an extended object lesson from God that nothing on earth is permanent - I GET IT!!! Can't I just have a teeny bit of permanence? I guess I have, just not on paper.

Part of it is going to the doc for the first time in a couple years. More than that. I haven't seen an OB/Gyn since maybe 2005? I've still had exams, since midwives run their tests through labs (not just cauldrons) but I haven't seen an M.D. She seems to be a fabulous doc. So fabulous that she detected something out of sorts uterus-wise. I plan to credit the birthing of two 11-pounders in a row unless the upcoming follow-up tests say different.

Part of it might be Charles Dickens' fault. This Little Dorrit might be the death of me. I will have lots of dreamy reading time on my weekend away, so I need to consider if it's Dickens I want to spend it with.

Anyway... it's time for me to get licensed. Then you can tell me your problems, too - and I can charge you!