one day and a reflection later

The Bonus Army takes up camp in front of the US Capital, 1932

I was a bit of a blubberer yesterday.  I was somewhat obsessed with Veteran's Day, and gravitated toward images and news stories as though they were chips and dip (I have a salt tooth, not a sweet tooth). Granted, before I was even out of bed yesterday I was feeling oddly vulnerable and weepy, so I was predisposed to get emotional about almost anything picked up by my "things that matter" radar.

The Veterans Day thing got a head start a couple of days ago when I learned about an award being given posthumously to a soldier who sacrificed his life in Afghanistan saving the lives of his platoon leader, fellow platoon members, and (if I'm remembering correctly) some civilians. The award cited the incident where he pushed his leader out of the way of bullet fire, taking the fatal hit himself. Only last week at my conference in Indianapolis I heard stories from retired military educators about how loyalty and commitment to fellow soldiers trumps loyalty to the mission. Though this was not news to me the information penetrated my being at a deeper level. The specific action of this Ft. Campbell soldier plays across my imagination as though seeing it on a screen, and his sacrifice releases from my soul a kind of grief.

I know the grief is mine, no matter what triggers it. As I write this post there is dawning awareness that it touches on my experience of camaraderie and friendship, and the gaping hole of such in my life these days. I'm also aware that issues related to justice have woven through pieces of my life in recent weeks, so stories about what I see as injustices to veterans pluck those strings. Sadly, there are lots of stories about such injustices, so my justice and vulnerability meters are resonating together to generate some interesting internal reflections. 

Thanks for wading through the above to get to what I really want today's post to be about: two particular stories of injustice. I had never heard of the Bonus Army, a group of WW I veterans who marched on and established themselves in Washington to demand what was promised to them. I am indebted to NPR for airing the story last night. The fact that knowledge of this event is not a part of our nation's body of common knowledge strikes me as shameful. Go here to read about it (I can't possibly do it justice here in brief). The Bonus Army is from another era, and although it will inspire anger it led, ultimately, to the G.I. Bill (which might be considered a form of justice, I admit. The story is still dreadful). The other story about denying veterans a gift given for them in Los Angeles was broadcast earlier this morning on CNN.  This story renews my animosity toward greed--as though any of us need any assistance in that arena these days--but it also rekindles my sense of helplessness when I want to take action to redress a wrong.  At least others are making an attempt to do so.

There are implications in these stories, and others, about our collective failure to deliver what is promised and to honor the contract executed by those who respond to the call to serve.  Again and again our leaders break those contracts, violating the trust and faith that all of us are impelled to place in their hands. For too long we have stood by and watched the disintegration of that which we so proudly hail, failing to hold our leaders accountable.  It is past time to step up and speak up, and to stand with those whose lives and memories have been betrayed.

To paraphrase Tim Gunn, "Make It Happen." Let's figure out a way, together, to do that.

i believe her

Yesterday when the news about Penn State's cover-up of sexual assault and exploitation unfolded, echoes of Herman Cain denials were dancing in my head. It occurred to me at the time that when the public learns of incidents of sexual abuse against boys or men, no one ever questions the motives of those who make their stories public, or subject themselves to renewed pain and anguish as they endure revisiting a chapter of personal devastation in their lives. It only seems to be women who are suspect, whose motives must be dark, self-centered, and driven by the need for attention or money.

As I revisit this reflection this morning I need to amend a portion of my thinking from a day ago. A distinct difference between stories of men molested as boys and women molested by men is that children and teenagers lack the capacity to assert their own voice and claim their own power because personal power does not rest within us until life and adulthood have provided the crucible for such power to be forged. The dynamic between perpetrators and victims when the former is an adult and the latter is a minor is different than it is between adults, and our response to such violations fall rightly across a spectrum of disdain and disgust .

That said, sexual assault and harassment perpetrated against women share a dynamic with acts perpetrated against boys: they are dynamics of power, with sex its vehicle of expression.

As a survivor of sexual assault I speak to this not as a clinician and feminist, but as one who had to work hard and painfully to learn and understand that acquiescence to this form of power was not a choice or a betrayal of self, but a cultural pattern of response to deeply entrenched societal acceptance of the abuse of power by those who wield that weapon at will. Make no mistake, power is a weapon.

I expect men who are accused to deny the accusation. I expect eyebrows to be raised and speculation to begin. I am not surprised that a woman's motives are challenged. I likewise challenge, however, the too-long held acceptance that power may be used to intimidate, dominate, violate or in other ways humiliate another person who lacks comparable power. I challenge the resistance to accepting that a woman who makes her pain public does so for any reason other than exposing the truth. I also challenge any man accused of harassment or assault to look hard at his relationship with power and to consider that he might be vulnerable to its lures. If just one man would explore the possibility that inappropriate behavior resulted from his comfort with power and acknowledge the damage that resulted, a door would open to a new world of understanding, respect, and relationship. If Herman Cain would do this he would begin the process of dismantling the arrogance that possesses him, and he might discover the riches of humility that serve as the basis of true leadership. He still wouldn't get my vote, but he might well earn my respect.

Once upon a time, after recovering from the experience of paying a difficult price at the hands of a group who praised and highly exalted themselves to excess, I was appointed to a position where I was given the authority to make decisions that could have significant impact on the lives of others. A friend who saw this appointment as a sort of vindication for me also recognized the opportunity for the appointment to be problematic. "Beware of your power," she said to me. It is a caution I have never forgotten.

At this time in my life I believe that I have a healthy and respectful relationship with power. While I am grateful for that that, I am also keenly aware of the cost paid to enjoy that relationship now. The wisdom I gleaned can best be offered by sharing the counsel given to me. When the mantel rests upon you, beware of your power. And share that warning with others.  We all need to hear the truth when it is spoken.

melrose snapshots

 Trisha poses with salt lick and deer corn at a spot being scouted for future hunting. Her job was to scatter the latter.

 My beloved up a tree (stand).

 Two of our beloveds.

Everyone's beloved view at sunset, shortly before the colors got rich.

I'm off to Indy. I was able to check out a laptop to take with me (yay!) so I'll do my best to be in touch while I"m gone. There's lots going on at the office this week, which makes this a tough time to be gone.

Have a great week, beloveds!

monday miscellaney

It's been a while!

Since we last met there's been a trip to Melrose, bouts with a nasty cold, home rearranging, office tailgate party, and miscellaneous mini adventures. Such variety!

I'm not generally an overly cautious person, but I've taken under advisement the counsel not to broadcast occasions when we will be out of town. Like our recent trip to Melrose. I'm not really worried about someone taking advantage of our absence and breaking into our house while we're gone, but there's that little piece of me that is okay with not letting that cat out of the proverbial bag.

It was a short trip: left Thursday afternoon, got there after dark, and returned Monday morning. Let me just say that the weather was spectacular. Stunning. Brilliant. True, crisp, autumn glory. A little chilly at night, but that's why we have blankets and fireplaces.

We enjoyed a visit with Kenneth and Trisha, our friends Jimmy and Barbara, and our usual and customary date with the wisteria for pruning. The next thing we new we were back on the road heading home. Waaaaaahhhhh!

In the "bursting with pride" department: Kenneth completed an Army Special Forces Selection process last week. The first great thing about that is that he completed the course. Tougher than Ranger school. The next great thing about it is that he completed the course with honors. Stellar graduate. Can you see me beaming? In two weeks he and Trisha will move to Ft. Bragg (Fayetteville, NC) where he begins what is known as "Q." More training. The first six months will be intensive language training, then small unit tactical training, and I can't remember what comes after that, although I may have the order of parts two and three reversed. Another chapter begins!

Saturday my office hosted a tailgate event on campus. It was intended to be an offering for our nontraditional students and their families, with kids encouraged to come in costume, and treats offered for the young-uns. It was a gorgeous day, we had great catered barbecue (and the best mac-n-cheese!), and enjoyed meeting the students who came by, though few of our target population were among them. Oh well! Time for a survey to see what sorts of events might be better attended. It's pricey to offer a meal and not have your group show up to eat it.  We still had fun, as might be indicated by this picture of my assistant, Valerie, trying on someone's hat.

Tomorrow I'm off to Indianapolis for a few days for a national adult learning conference. It's not that I don't get the dynamics of adult learning (the stories of my students keep me well abreast of that!), but this will be a great opportunity to learn about trends, resources, and other good stuff outside of the specific frame of reference that is my own office and campus. We're hosting our own conference at MTSU in February, so this will also help me narrow down some parameters for content for that event. I'm excited to be going, and eager to learn.

At home Ken has had his sights on transforming the area that serves as his office (formerly the one-car garage) into a "den." The only real change to that space is the relocation of a recliner and sleeper sofa to its midst. We finally made that happen yesterday, and let's just say that I am glad to have it done and behind us. The dogs love having a comfy space to hang out with Ken when he's in that room, and the living room finally has a chance to reclaim its identity without excess stuff filling it up.

So those are the highlights at my end. What's new with you?

and a good time was had

Last night our local democratic party held their first ever Halloween Bash at a local country club. As you might expect with anything that is new and not "what we've always done," there was a wee bit of anxiety about how the event would go. Would enough people buy tickets? Would they show up? Would they deck themselves in costumes? Would we make any money (it was intended to be a social, but making money is still a good thing)? Would people enjoy themselves? And of personal interest to me, would they like and appreciate my cake? As facebook friends know, this cake has a story of its own!

I am happy to report that the answers to all of the above is an unequivocal, "Yes!" This report is coming from someone who generally doesn't enjoy parties where I don't know many people, but I have to say I had a ball. Nearly everyone wore a costume, and there were some fun and creative efforts in that area. There was music and dancing, karaoke (which I even attempted twice without being under the influence of alcohol), door prizes, and a really good Ro-tel cheese dip with chips. There was some other food, but the dip reigned supreme.

Ken decked himself in all of his kilt regalia, and I attempted to pull off Holly Golightly. My effort would have been a lot more successful if I was a whole bunch thinner, but it was fun to dress up. The picture doesn't do justice to the hair or makeup, and it is exceedingly disappointing to note that the reflection I saw in the bathroom mirror before we went to the party and the image below do not resemble one another. Phhhhhhttt! Ken, at least, looks exceedingly handsome. At least to me!

We came home exhausted but satisfied, and this morning I am enduring my body's protest that I wore 2" heels last night. No biggie, all will be well. After the memory of the cake adventure fades I would likely attempt to do one again, and in the karaoke department I will be sure not to volunteer to sing a song that I only think I know. It's no fun to drop out in the middle of verse when you realize that what you really know is the refrain. That said, I managed to get through "Crazy" without making a total fool of myself. The darkness of the room was my saving grace.

And that, friends, is a slice of autumn life here in the mid-south. I'm not entirely sure what's on tap for today, but it's lovely and cool, and the kitchen is almost clean, and that's not a bad way to start a weekend. May yours be full of things that bring you joy.

friday five: scattered

At RevGals, revkjarla writes: So, I don't know about you, but I have had quite the scattered week. Sometimes, life is that way, right? In the spirit of Scattered-ness, I offer you a scattery kind of Friday Five:

1.  I lose my keys all of the time.  Even if they are in my hand, I still am looking for them.  Sigh!
What is something you are chronically looking for, if anything?

My eyeglasses, although to cut down on the chronic nature of that hunt I keep a pair at the computer, a pair in my purse, a pair at the kitchen table (shared by living room use), and a pair at the office.

2.  What movie are you looking forward to watching sometime in the future?  (me, the new Footloose!)

I've had so little time lately to pay attention to things like movies, I don't even know what's coming. I do about Footloose, however, but I'll wait to see that when it comes out on dvd.

3.  What is one of your favorite comfort foods?  (me, pizza. hands down).

I love pizza, and I confess that it's extremely convenient to pick up an already baked, personal pan pizza at work (I take one flight of stairs and walk about one hundred yards), but I try to eat less pizza than my soul desires for health reasons. Sadly, most comfort foods stand squarely outside of the healthy eating zone. My favorite snack is some peanut butter on slices of apple. Just about everything else feels guilty because it's essentially impossible for me to lose weight.

4.  Story time.  Tell us a story of one your favorite people that has touched, blessed your life.

My goddaughter is the person who regularly touches and blesses me. There are many stories, but one early memory from about 20 years ago stands out. One night after a Lenten program at church (back in the good old days when I was a laywoman), I walked out to my car at the same time as Johanna and her family. Johanna was about eight years old.  Before climbing into the family car she turned to me, opened her arms wide and tipped her head back for a goodnight embrace. It was a spontaneous gesture of love different from the usual hug of kids wrapping their arms around your legs or hips and squeezing at their level. Those open arms said to me that her heart embraced me fully, without reservation or limit. The blessings of her love continue to embrace me.

5.  What do you do to focus or calm or center yourself?  (please, I need ideas!!!)

Here's a surprise--I turn to God! I also cuddle with my dog, or simply close my eyes, empty my mind and breathe. If I have access to a scenic view staring at it for a while is also a great way to find calm.

BONUS:  Share the first thing (or second thing) that comes to your mind after your read this!

Our son-in-law leaves on Sunday for temporary duty (army) in Hawaii for six weeks. Our daughter and grandkids will also make the trip. They  have invited us to come visit them while they are there, but 1) we can't afford it, 2) even if we could afford it there are other plans and obligations littering our calendar for the duration of that six weeks that don't allow us to take the time, and 3) even we we could afford to go and the calendar wasn't an issue, I only get paid for time I work, which sort of puts us back to number one. It breaks my heart to have to say no to this amazing opportunity, and pushing the various components around in my mind to arrive at this conclusion is, indeed, a practice of fragmenting/scattering.

we are topeka

image from the blog OABI (Organization for Abuse and Battered Individuals)

I don't write that post title as a badge of solidarity honor, but as one of shame.

Do you know what's going on in Topeka? No? I'm not surprised. The news from that city didn't make this morning's cut for news on CNN or NPR, the first sources of my household's news day. There was no mention in the morning paper. The New York Times carries the story in the "US News" section, seen as less important or significant than Romney's performance in the most recent debate, the standoff in NBA negotiations, and an alleged plot of a foreign government to assassinate a diplomat from another foreign government on US soil.  I'm really worked up about that last one.

Let me bring you up to date. Last night Topeka repealed its domestic violence ordinance. The reporting is a little unclear about this, but I think that although it's still not legal to beat up your wife, husband, partner, sibling, child or parent, there will be no arrests, charges or prosecutions of these crimes. Blame it all on a budget crisis. Apparently it's too costly to prosecute these crimes, and the case load for felonies and some other misdemeanors, like shoplifting, is high. Tell that to the 35 or more victims of domestic violence in Topeka in the last six weeks (that's almost one per day, reported). Tell that to their children and their loved ones. Tell them that the violence perpetrated against them costs too much for them to be considered a priority for justice and protection. A 10% across-the-board budget cut means don't cut salaries or perks, instead leave vulnerable women and families at greater risk of losing their lives.

I'm not being dramatic, I'm outraged. I'm ranting here because our culture has been silent too long on this subject. The painful irony of this action in Topeka is that October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. Most of us, myself included, don't have the numbers committed to memory but I'll be glad to review them for everyone's sake.*

• 1 in every four women will experience domestic violence in her lifetime. 1 in every 4, people.
• An estimated 1.3 million women are victims of physical assault by an intimate partner each year.
• 85% of domestic violence victims are women.
• Most cases of domestic violence are never reported to the police.
• Charges of assault against perpetrators are more like to cause an escalation in violence on the part of the perpetrator.
• Boys who witness domestic violence are twice as likely to abuse their own partners and children when they become adults.
• Nearly one-third of female homicide victims that are reported in police records are killed by an intimate partner. 
• The cost of intimate partner violence exceeds $5.8 billion each year, $4.1 billion of which is for direct medical and mental health services. 
• There are 16,800 homicides and $2.2 million medically treated injuries due to intimate partner violence annually, costing $37 billion. 
• Domestic Violence cuts across all socio-economic, racial, ethnic and religious lines.

Why should this be the lead story on every newscast today? Because to say nothing is to suggest that this action is acceptable. To say nothing doesn't help those 1 in 4, or worse, the victims who don't report their abuse. And lest you think this is only about victims, the syndrome of domestic violence won't cease or lessen when the perpetrators don't get help.

Get mad with me. Be outraged. Speak out. Stand up for the victims and demand justice and protection. Together we can change the statistics.

One. In. Four. Are you okay with that?

Learn more
*source: National Coalition Against Domestic Violence: www.ncadv.org

the things we do for t-shirts

Confession: I am writing this post in order to create a wordle.

Nontraditional Student Week is a stone's throw away, and we plan to celebrate it with enthusiasm in my office. And we need a t-shirt design.

Let me tell you a little about our students. They are adult learners with life experiences that run the gamut from business owners and entrepeneurs to single parents and survivors of abuse. They are tall, short, wide, narrow, red-headed, bald, and everything in between. They are men and women dedicated to improving their lives through education. They have dreams, and they work hard toward achieving them. Some will be teachers, some are pre-law, others want to care for animals and still others plan to write. They are studying English, computer technology, chemistry, animal science, sociology and more. They laugh, they share stories, and they encourage one another. They tutor each other and swap stories about teachers. They fall asleep on the couch and lose track of time at the computer. The room fills with the fragrance of lunches heated in the microwave, and the smell of popcorn to fend off afternoon munchies. They arrange their schedules to take kids to soccer practice and parents to doctor appointments. They worry about their finances and their families, but day in and day out, they are here. Studying, contributing, planning and dreaming. They are discovering that they were right to return to school, to push aside the awkwardness of raising their hands in classes filled with nineteen-year olds, and to share the lessons they've learned in life with professors and fellow students. They get tired. They get stressed. Their cars and their lawnmowers need repair, and still they manage. They persevere.

In my book they are rock stars, and it is my privilege to know them and work to make their lives on this campus a little easier. They have chosen MTSU, and the world is, and will be, better for their time here.

friday five: the things we do for love

 For my son and daughter-in-law's rehearsal dinner I had a puzzle made of a photograph of them. Guests worked on the puzzle throughout the evening and got to know each other across the pieces. Putting together the entire evening was a fun-filled and joyous gift of love.

At RevGals Songbird writes: I have a friend who, when she has to be away from her child, goes to the trouble of planning a present for each of the days they will be apart. I'm impressed by her organizational skills and her creativity and her thoughtfulness.

She does these things for love.

And although love looks different depending on how we best express it, there are definitely things we do for love. So for today's Friday Five, please share the following five things:

1) Something you did for love that was a hit

Two things spring immediately to mind. When I lived in St. Louis my goddaughter--who lived in New Jersey at the time--attended a national church youth event in Terre Haute, IN. I drove the three hours to Terre Haute to take her to dinner and spend a little time with her, and then turned around and drove home. It was a carpe opportunity kind of thing. 

Ten years ago my friend Kathy and I spent two glorious weeks vacationing in northern California. I had become intoxicated with scrapbooking, so I decided that I would make scrapbooks of our trip for both of us. It took a year to finish it, but I finally presented to her the 72-page album documenting our adventures. Somewhere I have a picture of her looking through it, and you can tell by the expression on her face that she was moved and delighted with the gift.

2) Something you did for love that was more of a miss

I don't know that anything has been a miss as much as that I have been disappointed that something I've done doesn't appear to be appreciated. Unfortunately there are several such occasions that come to mind, and even though it is hurtful for the effort not to be acknowledged, it doesn't stop me from showing the love the next time.

3) Something someone did for love of you

The same friend, Kathy, threw me a big birthday party when I turned 40. Not only was the party itself a wonderful event (she was a great hostess), but she conspired to have some good friends from out of state and across the country come for the weekend as a surprise. She also solicited letters and photos from friends and family that she compiled into an album for me. It was truly a wonderful expression of love.

4) Something you *wish* someone would do for love of you

I wish my husband would clean up after himself in the kitchen on a regular basis, but other than that, nothing in particular comes to mind.

5) Something you've done for love of God

I hope that I live my life in a way that reflects an infusion of my love for God. If I have to narrow it down I would say that trusting in God's love for and acceptance of me in the face of my flaws and the ways I'm sure I disappoint him is what I do for love of God. 

friday five: home sweet home

At RevGals Songbird writes: I've got home on my mind: what it feels like, how we make it, what we carry from the past and how we separate other people's leftovers from objects that really reflect our identity. My family has had one home for the past 13 years, the longest I've ever lived anywhere. As the time when all the children are gone comes closer, I wonder where my next home will be?
So here are five questions about home.

1) Where was your first home?

The first home of my childhood was in Newington, Connecticut, a suburb of Hartford. It was a small, three bedroom house with one bathroom, but it's packed with lots of memories inside and out: our cat having kittens in my closet, dinner at the picnic table on the brick patio, a treehouse in the apple tree, drawers in the upstairs bedroom built into the wall, a tree that bloomed at my birthday, playing in the crawlspace in the eaves, invading our parents' bedroom and playing "airplane," balancing in the air on their feet, obstacle courses set up for birthday parties, baking cookies, and so much more. Wish I was home to upload a picture of that house!

2) Do you ever dream about places you used to live?

If you mean dream while sleeping, then the answer is yes. I dream occasionally about the first house of my childhood (see above), but I have dreamt with some frequency about the first house I owned. I suppose there are lots of reasons for that! If you mean daydream, then the answer is also yes. I remember with deep affection and some longing my first home in Tennessee. It had a great yard for the dogs, for one thing, but it had other things to commend it, and I miss it.  

3) If you could bring back one person from your past to sit at your dinner table, who would you choose?

Great question! After some thought I think I'll say my late friend, Kathy. She died five and a half years ago, and I thought at the time of her death that we had resolved some tensions in our relationship. Some things that have transpired since her death--or more accurately, haven't transpired--lead me to believe that full reconciliation did not take place. I carry a lingering sadness about that, and I would like an opportunity to do whatever I can to correct that.

4) What's your favorite room in your current living space?

I don't have a favorite room in my home at the moment. When I finally repaint the living room and make some modest changes there, it will probably be that space. It's where my husband and I hang out, where we relax, and where I am able to read and do hand-sewing. At the moment the room is chaos. I guess I do have a favorite room!

5) Is there an object or an item where you live now that represents home? If not, can you think of one from your childhood?

Hands down, the fireplace and mantel (see above!).I associate it with Christmas, birthdays, and family or friends gathered around it. It's a place of community and celebration, warmth and comfort. The common thread of what makes it special to me is that it is a place of gathering with people I love.

thankful thursday

A pause to reflect is a good thing in a busy week. And so...

This morning I'm thankful for a new 'do! It's actually new as of a month ago (and no, I don't have a picture, yet!) but it was in desperate need of tidying up, so I took care of that yesterday. MUCH happier with the new shape and the attention to detail given by the stylist. I will try to get pictures soon.

I'm thankful that it is finally feeling like fall around here. Cool nights, pleasant days, and clear, crisp skies. Ahhhhh.

I'm thankful for my nephew, Jesse, whose birthday is today. When he was born 21 years ago his maternal grandmother was moved that he was born on "the holiest of days," which, in that year, was Yom Kippur. On the Christian calendar, today is the feast of St. Michael and All Angels, so Jesse is doubly blessed with holiness. Mazel tov, Jesse!

I'm saying on the front end of a new adventure that I'm thankful to start zumba tonight. I hate exercise, but I just can't take the pudge anymore. Or the snug pants. Or the way I look in pictures (it's not an accident that there aren't any pictures of the new haircut). I will probably pass out five minutes into the program because I have so little stamina, but I am determined to give this a try. Twice a week. Yes, I am. Those sayings on pinterest about going slow is still lapping anyone on the couch have finally gotten to me. Take that, fat!

I am thankful for a good place to work. We have some great students, and I have some good colleagues with whom to share the mission of the school and some laughs as we try our best to support that mission.

I am also thankful for my assistant, with whom I laugh daily. Guffaw, even. Sometimes we get going to such an extent that students out in the lounge part of the office look up from their studies.

I am thankful for Pinterest. I know you couldn't tell that the site has practically changed my life, but I find so much inspiration there for various ideas and projects. One such project is actually half implemented!

I'm thankful for friends I've never met who stop by here to see what's happening. One of the things that's tough about keeping up with this blog is that I have lots to say when I'm in the car and hearing stories on the radio. I reflect on what I hear and want to write right then. Alas, by the time I'm at work or get home, that moment is but a memory. One of these days, however, I might just hold on to one of those thoughts and get it down on paper so I can recall it when I get to the keyboard.

Anyway, thanks for stopping by. I appreciate your visit, and I appreciate you!

today's smile

This picture deserves a caption. What say you? Sarcasm is fair game.

formative phrases

Whether we think of them as rules, wisdom, or advice, most of us can probably recall a list of such items that our parents or elders recited to help shape our manners and even, perhaps, our worldview. My father had three favorites that were repeated at meals: chew with your mouth closed, put your napkin on your lap, and keep your elbows off the table.

It was with some delight that I came across this list on Pinterest espousing those same bits of ettiquette, with a few others thrown in. With less regularity we also heard the good counsel to sit up straight and refrain from playing with our food. We learned early on to ask to be excused from the table, and I never did manage to eat my vegetables.

What's interesting to me as I hear these instructive bits in my head is that images of where these meals took place pop into my mind. The triad of fatherly advice puts me at the kitchen table at the home to which we moved when I was 9. I'm sure Dad used those words earlier, but for whatever reason I trapped them in my memory at a particular time in that particular place. I have no doubt that the chewing and elbow portions were directed to my brothers. I can't say one way or the other if I might have been guilty of breaking the napkin code.

I'm absolutely grateful for stumbling across the cornerstones and staples of other peoples lives to evoke my own. I'm not good at recalling memories out of the blue. For me a "memory keyword" is necessary to go delving into my brain to return with a slice of my earlier life to remember or share.

How about you? Are there phrases of advice and counsel that have followed you from childhood? Is your memory like mine, needing a catalyst to release its riches, or do you have stories to relate that don't require evocation? Do tell!

friday five: what do you seek?

At RevGals Jan is inspired by a few verses from Psalm 105:3-4:

. . . let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
Seek the Lord and his strength;
seek his presence continually.

Seeking is rejoicing. Rejoicing comes from the seeking, NOT the end of glory, heaven, enlightenment, or whatever. Seeking is the journey--RIGHT NOW!

So for this Friday Five the following list reflects what I am seeking.

1) My first response is to say TIME! Since returning to the conventional schedule of work I don't have the same freedom or flexibility with time I had for, oh, the last twenty years! It's an adjustment, with a capital A. Much as I miss the freedom and flexibility, however, time isn't really what I seek. The wherewithal to use my time more effectively is what I seek. Is wherewithal something one can seek? Well, this is my Friday five, so I say "yes!"

2) I seek a return to the depth of God's presence that I once experienced. I've shared before how God's apparent disregard for going to war in Iraq really messed with my prayer life, and nothing has been the same since. I miss that intimacy.

3) I seek friends. My life has become increasingly isolated in the relationship department. I'm trying to look at my  part in the loneliness that I feel, and though I can take some responsibility for it, the rest remains a mystery. It's increasingly painful.

4) I seek God's intervention in a number of arenas: my own life (see #2, above); the hearts of so-called Christians whose espoused beliefs reflect nothing of the gospel; the US congress; the global economy; and my dog's bladder habits. 

5) I seek the courage to make some changes in my life. Overcoming the inertia that keeps me from exercising would be a great place to start. I really hate to exercise, and I need/want to lose 50 pounds. 

Bonus) I seek healing for the pain and brokenness of the world.

Second Bonus) I'm desperate for inspiration for a Halloween costume.

this kiss is worth a thousand words

You all know I'm nutso about dogs, and not just my own. I'm a big fan of Dog Bless You, a facebook page that celebrates all dogs, but in particular champions service dogs to soldiers who suffer from PTSD. Dog Bless You also connects dog and soldier supporters to organizations that support our wounded warriors through service dogs, and shares wonderful, heartwarming dog stories. This is one of them. The writeup was found on animalslook.com.  

This photograph shows a red Doberman kissing an exhausted fireman. He had just saved her from a fire in her house, rescuing her by carrying her out of the house into her front yard, while he continued to fight the fire. She is pregnant. The firefighter was afraid of her at first, because he had never been around a Doberman before. When he finally got done putting the fire out, he sat down to catch his breath and rest. A photographer from the Charlotte, North Carolina newspaper, "The Observer," noticed this red Doberman in the distance looking at the fireman. He saw her walking straight toward the fireman and wondered what she was going to do. As he raised his camera, she came up to the tired man who had saved her life and the lives of her babies, and kissed him, when the photographer snapped this shot.

I'm collecting some dog photos and stories that will appear here from time to time. Be warned, and have your hankies ready.

Woof!

I'm still here, are you?

I realize I have been a spotty blogger since becoming part of a more conventional workforce, but I can't tell if anyone is still visiting here (except for my mother).  If no one is reading the blog I'll fold it up and tuck it away, but if my less frequent posts matter to anyone, please let me know. I DO have things to say, but if no one is reading them there's not much point in spending the time to put them out there.

Please just let me know.

Thanks, and have a stellar day!

halloween, anyone?

Ken and I have a costume party to attend next month, and I've been trying to think of interesting costume ideas. Ken seems determined to go as Andrew Jackson (we are in the Jackson state, after all), but I'm not interested in going as Rachel Jackson, Andy's beloved. She was about two feet shorter than Andrew, for one thing...

Anyway, I found these photos on Pinterest, and they tempt me. What do you think?

This totally cracks me up.

As does this

I would be going as Mary without her chimney-sweeping other half if I wore this.

Ideas? Votes? Let me know what you suggest!

Once upon a time I wrote meditations based on the Daily Office Lectionary (Wednesdays) and sent them out via email to a list of subscribers. What follows is what I wrote on September 12, 2001. It seems fitting to revive it as a measure of reflection on the work that lay ahead, and where we are now.

“If there is any encouragement in Christ, any incentive of love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.” (Phil. 2:1).

There is no better time to embrace Paul’s words than in the aftermath of national devastation. When shock and disbelief yield to raw emotion, it is natural for anger, fear and vengeance to step front and center to demand attention. And they will. As we discover our own connections to victims of this tragedy, our pain will burrow deeply into the crevices created by the impact of Tuesday’s events. As stories emerge from the wreckage of the World Trade Center and Pentagon, and photographs and video footage imprint themselves into our vulnerable psyches, the desire for justice will burn deeper and deeper within our individual and collective souls.

The temptation will be to assuage our outrage and mitigate our grief with the time honored response of an eye for an eye. We claim that it is human nature to seek vengeance, and it is, but it is also human nature to feel compassion. At a time when our faith has been rocked on its foundation, the encouragement of Christ is what steadies us and keeps us centered. When anger flares it is the love of Christ that transcends the desire to act or speak impulsively. When fear rises from the core of our being it is participation in the spirit that transforms our disabilities into bold actions for good.

To be in Christ is to seek his mind and reflect his love. In the coming days and weeks we have the opportunity to make choices that will demonstrate whether or not we have sought to be in full accord with our savior, and to share in the depth of his love. How we respond to that opportunity will be the measure of our faith. Daily we will be tested, and daily we must pray for the wisdom and courage to follow the example of Christ. It will not be easy, but living in the shadow of the cross has never been easy.

When my community of faith gathered Tuesday night for prayer and worship, the following verse of one of the hymns we sang spoke to our heartache. It reminds us succinctly that we are made in the image of God, and that the single most important aspect of our creation is that we share in his love:

God is love, and love enfolds us, all the world in one embrace: 

with unfailing grasp God holds us, every child of every race. 
And when human hearts are breaking under sorrow’s iron rod,

then we find that self-same aching deep within the heart of God.

As we live within the heart of God we serve those whom we have lost. For the sake of their memory and the glory of God, we honor them best when we act in love.

presidium

Let me introduce you to some awesome college students. Yes, the ones appearing in the picture above. The student leadership retreat known as Presidium came to its rockin' conclusion Tuesday, and my small group "Family" took a moment to pose with our Family banner. We were the Beezz Neezz.


The students I got to know represented a fraternity, two soroities, the Equestrian Team+, the Swing Dance Club, Best Buddies (mentoring young people with disabilities), a campus ministry, the Penhellenic Council +(for any non-Greek folks out there, this is sorority-related), a computer club, the sociology club, and our student leader and facilitator.


We had three days full of presentations, motivation, small group discussions, games and lots of food. Throughout Presidium anyone could have copped an attitude resulting from heat, clashes in personalities and differences in opinion, but this group of student leaders were amazingly mature, listened intently (well, except when they weren't scrolling through their phones), and contributed thoughtfully to conversations and discussions. I came away from the retreat appreciative of these very fine representatives of this next generation of leaders and count myself fortunate to work with them.

And now, we're bracing ourselves for the start of school (Saturday) and 26,000+ students on campus.  Let the semester begin!

Sunday miscellaney

I'm offering miscellaneous thoughts this morning since I will be away from my computer for Monday's round.

Today I am heading off for a university-wide student organization leadership retreat. As part of the administrative team of the Center for Student Involvement and Leadership I will spend the next three days with 150 college students. Yay! You heard my cloaked enthusiasm there, right? Of course you did. But seriously, it wouldn't be so bad except that this event is being held at a 4-H camp. Which translates outdoors. In August. In Tennessee. I got very excited when I clicked on a weather icon on a new toolbar on my computer and the highs for Monday and Tuesday were in the 70's. Imagine a sudden improvement in my outlook accompanied by arched eyebrows. Then I noticed that the reading was for somewhere in Ohio. Slump. No such luck here. 90's. I'm packing my best attitude along with my ball cap. Go Blue!

In the good old days--that would be two months ago when free time wasn't limited to weekends (I LOVE weekends!)--it wouldn't feel like the end of the world to lose power in the middle of an online project. Or to spend hours on said project only to discover that it would not work out in the manner I had hoped and it would be necessary to abandon it (in that particular incarnation). I don't despair, but I do wish I could catch a break.

I really hate it when one of the online photo production sites finally offers the sale I've been waiting for but it expires the day I return from being out of town working with college kids. Note to self: start that project anyway so that when the next sale comes I'll be ready for it!

I had a dream last night that included far too many dog containment issues for my comfort. BUT! A part of last night's dreaming also included a difficult, yet triumphant, reconciliation with a friend who dropped out of my life previously. I'm not sure if that's a sign of real possibility or a sign that some healing has taken place. It was the best part of the dream, I can tell you that.

One of the nice things about my new work environment is that I wear regular clothes, as opposed to donning a mostly black and white themed wardrobe. Think accessories! I had a jewelry party the other night that was really fun because I get to pick out all sorts of fun stuff that I can actually wear. Can't wait for those lovelies to arrive!

Anyone need any Pampered Chef? I've got a show going until the end of the month and I'm offering everyone ten percent off, and regular shipping to my out-of-town and -state friends! Discounts taken when I process the order. You can go here to take a look at what you might need (or want). There is a fabulous deal on our grill pan and press being sold as a set this month only. With the additional ten percent off you save $49, plus you qualify for the free guest special (one of our color-coated knives), adding another $15 value to your order. This would make a great gift if it's something you don't need for yourself. Just sayin'! Feel free to share this with your friends who enjoy cooking or love Pampered Chef products.

I'm still working on getting into the scheduling groove of my life's new rhythm. Blogging and reading blogs have been a challenge, but I miss the connection (or what I perceive as such), so I am going to hang in there and try to keep at this effort. I am grateful to those of you who are also hanging in there with me.

Off to pack. Have a great few days until we read again!

out of the blue

Something I listened to on the radio driving home from work yesterday must have been the nudge that dislodged an ancient memory.  There I was, minding my own business and obeying the speed limit (well, more or less) when a song popped into my head. Not just any song, mind you, but a song that I heard when I was 14 and enjoying an extended visit with cousins who lived in Lausanne,  Switzerland (above). I was there for six weeks (how nice for me!), so the song had, at most, that length of time to be heard and make an impression. It did. I bought the 45. Never mind that I didn't understand a word of it at the time. 

And then, there I was behind the wheel bursting into song. In french. I was actually able to recall most of the first verse by the time I got home, and I continued to sing it to myself in an effort to retrieve more of it.  I couldn't let it go. The record itself is long gone, the victim of a vinyl purge when my mother moved many years ago. I prayed that I would find it on YouTube. Ah, thank you, Internet for delivering to me Non, non, Rien n'a Change, by Les Poppys!

My first delight was that I could listen to it again and confirm the phrases that my memory offered up to me. The second, more surprising gift is the lyrics. The song came out in 1971. Sung by a boys choir, the appeal for peace is poignant. 

According to Wikipedia the record sold 1.2 million copies, was a number one hit in Holland and was in the Dutch Top 40 for 25 weeks. It's amazing what you can find on Wikipedia.

There are a number of videos of the song, one of which includes the English subtitles, but this one is less chaotic visually. I hope you find it as engaging as I did then, and do still.

 

Here are the words in English.

This is the story of a cease-fire I asked for
This is the story of a sun I had hoped for 
This is the story of a love I thought was alive 
This is the story of a beautiful day 
That as a small child I wished 
would be very happy for the whole planet

I wished, I hoped that peace would reign 
On this Christmas Eve 
But everything continued  
But everything continued
But everything continued
 
(Chorus 2 times) 
No, no, nothing has changed 
Everything, everything continued  
Hey! Hey!  

Hey! Hey!
 
Yet many people sang with us 
Many people got down on their knees  
To pray, yes pray 
To pray, yes pray 
But every day I watched TV  
and even on Christmas Eve 
Guns and cannons  
I cried, yes I cried 
I cried  
Who could explain to me ...
 
(Chorus)
I think about the child surrounded by soldiers  
I think of the child asking why  
All the time, yes all the time  
All the time, yes all the time 
I think of that 
But I shouldn't 
All these things do not concern me 
And yet, and yet 
I sing, I sing ...
 
(Chorus)

This is the story of a cease-fire I asked for
This is the story of a sun I had hoped for 
This is the story of a love I thought was alive 
This is the story of a beautiful day 
That as a small child I wished 

would be very happy for the whole planet

I wished, I hoped that peace would reign 

On this Christmas Eve 

But everything continued  

But everything continued

But everything continued

friday five: on the road again!

(love this graphic that Jan posted at RevGals!)

Ah, road trips. Those words are music to my ears! Jan at RevGals has just been on an extensive road trip with her husband and invites us to share some of our own roadie stories. So many from which to choose!

1) I'll start with a general review of childhood travels. Each spring my family spent our school vacation at Melrose, the family tree farm that regular readers know is a staple of my life! We traveled from Connecticut to South Carolina (and back, of course), periodically detouring for stops at historic places of interest. Among those were Williamsburg, Charlottesville, Gettysburg, Valley Forge, and so on. It was a great way to introduce us to American History in a way that "stuck:" beyond reading about it or hearing teacher lectures. An anecdote that I recall: on one such trip it was the first leg of the journey, and we were trying to cover a certain distance before stopping for the night. I was at a stage of childhood where viewfinders were a form of entertainment, and sitting in the rear of the family station wagon I was able to look through the viewfinder as we passed cars on the highway, using the beams from headlights as a source of light. We weren't passing enough cars to satisfy me, so I called to my dad at the wheel, "go faster Daddy!" Apparently he did, because not only was I a happy camper with my viewfinder, but we also got pulled over for speeding.

 2) Fast forward to the age of 30. A friend of mine was getting married in Scotland that summer, and I decided that it was past time for a return visit to that country where I had spent a semester in college. I flew over to surprise Betsey at her wedding. I spent a week traveling on my own, revelling in the countryside (and sheep) that I love so much, go where I wanted, when I wanted, with the freedom to stop for pictures, linger at vistas, and get my fill of gift shops. It was heaven, and a particularly empowering trip as I traveled solo.

The wedding was in St. Andrews (see photo), and I think I will always carry in my mind the look on my friend Betsey's face when she saw me there in the small chapel where she and her beloved tied their knot. When Betsey and her newly minted husband turned to greet the small congregation of well-wishers and begin their trek out of the church, she gave me a wink and a huge smile and thrust her bouquet into my hands. In the photo you will see how well the colors of the bouquet match my dress (heh). I am posing with Betsey's daughter.

One other not-so-insignificant note about that trip. Betsey's priest traveled to Scotland also to perform the ceremony. The short version of the story is that we began dating shortly after our return to the US, and on the occasion when I first went to hear him preach, I experienced a spiritual conversion that led to my ordination.  Life hasn't been the same since!

3) I moved to St. Louis is 1995 to accept a call at a church there. The Diocese of Missouri offered Fresh Start to clergy new to the diocese and in new cures. Four of the members of that class that fall were women, and we quickly dubbed ourselves the "clergy babes." We ranged in age from 30 to 60. We were an odd but fun mix of women, and we decided that as newcomers to that part of the Midwest we should venture forth together to explore the region. We planned a road trip to Memphis (about four hours south?) and had an adventurous couple of days sampling barbecue, listening to Jazz, and locking ourselves out of the car.

4) It was while living in St. Louis that I met my dear friend Kathy, who became my traveling buddy and partner in all sorts of innocent crime. We took a number of trips together, the farthest afield being a two-week sojourn through northern California (we had the BEST time!). We also enjoyed visits to members of my parish who spent their summers in northern Michigan. The first time we made that trip we made a number of stops along the way on our return: a farmer's market, craft shop, and outlet shops in Michigan City, IN. I'll just say that we did our part to aid the economy of Michigan City on that trip. There's a great picture of the car overflowing with our packages and purchases that barely left room for us to squeeze in, but here is the photo of me sitting on the steps at my driveway after unloading the car when we reached our destination. I am a master packer, so things have already been consolidated in bags in this picture. I don't look like it was a joyous trip (it was midnight), but it was one of our best.

5) My husband and I made a big (and fun) road trip east the first summer that we were together. We left Tennessee and headed to Connecticut, where our first stop was to see, and for Ken to meet, my family. We spent a great afternoon kayaking with my brother and his family, had dinners and visits with my dad and younger brother, and spent several days with my Mom on Cape Cod where she was on vacation. We traveled to New Hampshire to see Ken's sister and brother-in-law and enjoyed a fabulous drive up the coast of Maine, then made a stop in New York City on our return to Tennessee. There we visited Ground Zero, went to the top of the Empire State Building and the USS Intrepid and Museum,  and had the best ever pastrami sandwich at a restaurant across the street from the train station in Morris Plains, NJ, where we spent the night. Great trip.

And that's a wrap for today. I'll leave you with this picture from a white-water adventure trip Kathy and I enjoyed on the Ocoee River in East Tennessee. We're int he front.