Celebrating:
My dear friend, Ann. She was born on this day and so I am grateful for this day, especially much. We met about seven years ago at a worship/music meeting at the church where we had both recently started attending regularly. I remember her really cool haircut, her awesome t-shirt that said "Mind the Gap" and her laugh. She has the most marvelous laugh. She remembers the braids I wore in my hair, my hoop earrings and what she calls my "wide, pretty smile." We were destined to be the nearest and dearest of allies, and no one knew but God. I think that's quietly astounding, knowing what I know now. We say a high-pitched (annoying to anyone in earshot) "hellooooooOOOOooooooo!!!" whenever one calls the other, we trade counsel, we smoke cigars together (and she forgives me when I don't feel like it), we vent our frustrations via e-mails, we talk out the stuff of life until there are no more words. We wonder together about God, suffering, hope, love and marriage, wacky birds we hear in the pear tree at midnight (which we eventually determine to be the voice of God). We aim to become house mates in a commune one of these years when life has slowed and our desires for gardening, coffee-drinking and pontification have overcome all the others. There will be a sun dappled courtyard and a resident cat (probably Billy), I will cook soul-satisfying meals, paint and whistle ditties, she will wipe counters, write poetry and read aloud in the evenings, and mom will be there too -- she'll be the sous-chef, decorator and flower- and herb-expert. We don't know where the men will be -- because we definitely like men -- but it's just that they'll be of secondary importance in this scenario. Ann moved to Indiana last summer and so now we just love each other from afar. It's working out pretty well.
Praising the heavens for:
Ruthie Sayles' successful surgery and the visible cloud of faithfulness that has surrounded her entire journey. To read more updates and to feel the very warmth of God's hand, you may visither blog.
Listening to:
The dulcet, lulling, occasionally groovy sounds of Kings of Convenience. The pair hail from Norway and I must admit, I do love hearing that unmistakable twinge of Scandinavia in their pronunciation. Having lived in that region for several months way back in 2001 (!?wow), it is always fun to hear that particular dialect pop up as my iPod carries on. There's also something about the humor I find in the track titled "I'd Rather Dance With You (Than Talk With You)." I mean, let's just tell it like it is. Awesome. And the song at the very end of this album, Riot On an Empty Street, features guest vocalist Feist (or are they her guests?...) and always makes me rewind. It's called "The Build Up." It languishes quietly, rhythmically, at the start and then it....guess what.....it builds. Up.
The spinning top
Made a sound
Like a train
Across the valley
Fading
Oh so quiet
But constant 'til it passed
Over the ridge
Into the distances
Written on your ticket
To remind you where to stop
And when to get off
Wearing:
Really. Bright. Colors. At least seven people have remarked on it today, so I must have made an impression. What's so colorful about a limey-yellow and white skirt with a tomato red top and matching, pulsing red-orange slippers? What's the big deal, kids? I just like to coordinate with the seasons, that's all.
Praying:
For my sister to hear good news about a recent interview. Come on God, something's got to knock loose soon, here. Like, really.
Dreaming of:
Loving: The "Underwater Wonderworlds" my second graders created today. They're terrific.
Charlie. He had a really cool "battle scene" going between the fish and the shark. He brought this awesomeness to the drying rack and I asked him where the battle scene went and he said "I got a little out of control." I love it.
My dear friend, Ann. She was born on this day and so I am grateful for this day, especially much. We met about seven years ago at a worship/music meeting at the church where we had both recently started attending regularly. I remember her really cool haircut, her awesome t-shirt that said "Mind the Gap" and her laugh. She has the most marvelous laugh. She remembers the braids I wore in my hair, my hoop earrings and what she calls my "wide, pretty smile." We were destined to be the nearest and dearest of allies, and no one knew but God. I think that's quietly astounding, knowing what I know now. We say a high-pitched (annoying to anyone in earshot) "hellooooooOOOOooooooo!!!" whenever one calls the other, we trade counsel, we smoke cigars together (and she forgives me when I don't feel like it), we vent our frustrations via e-mails, we talk out the stuff of life until there are no more words. We wonder together about God, suffering, hope, love and marriage, wacky birds we hear in the pear tree at midnight (which we eventually determine to be the voice of God). We aim to become house mates in a commune one of these years when life has slowed and our desires for gardening, coffee-drinking and pontification have overcome all the others. There will be a sun dappled courtyard and a resident cat (probably Billy), I will cook soul-satisfying meals, paint and whistle ditties, she will wipe counters, write poetry and read aloud in the evenings, and mom will be there too -- she'll be the sous-chef, decorator and flower- and herb-expert. We don't know where the men will be -- because we definitely like men -- but it's just that they'll be of secondary importance in this scenario. Ann moved to Indiana last summer and so now we just love each other from afar. It's working out pretty well.
Praising the heavens for:
Ruthie Sayles' successful surgery and the visible cloud of faithfulness that has surrounded her entire journey. To read more updates and to feel the very warmth of God's hand, you may visither blog.
Listening to:
The dulcet, lulling, occasionally groovy sounds of Kings of Convenience. The pair hail from Norway and I must admit, I do love hearing that unmistakable twinge of Scandinavia in their pronunciation. Having lived in that region for several months way back in 2001 (!?wow), it is always fun to hear that particular dialect pop up as my iPod carries on. There's also something about the humor I find in the track titled "I'd Rather Dance With You (Than Talk With You)." I mean, let's just tell it like it is. Awesome. And the song at the very end of this album, Riot On an Empty Street, features guest vocalist Feist (or are they her guests?...) and always makes me rewind. It's called "The Build Up." It languishes quietly, rhythmically, at the start and then it....guess what.....it builds. Up.
The spinning top
Made a sound
Like a train
Across the valley
Fading
Oh so quiet
But constant 'til it passed
Over the ridge
Into the distances
Written on your ticket
To remind you where to stop
And when to get off
Wearing:
Really. Bright. Colors. At least seven people have remarked on it today, so I must have made an impression. What's so colorful about a limey-yellow and white skirt with a tomato red top and matching, pulsing red-orange slippers? What's the big deal, kids? I just like to coordinate with the seasons, that's all.
Praying:
For my sister to hear good news about a recent interview. Come on God, something's got to knock loose soon, here. Like, really.
Dreaming of:
Loving: The "Underwater Wonderworlds" my second graders created today. They're terrific.
Charlie. He had a really cool "battle scene" going between the fish and the shark. He brought this awesomeness to the drying rack and I asked him where the battle scene went and he said "I got a little out of control." I love it.
