dual personalities

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“Enter his gates with thanksgiving and into his courts with praise”*

by chuckofish

I love four-day weekends! There is enough time to do what you need to do, and a little time left over at the end to get one’s head in order for the new week.

Our weekend was super-fun and full of family. We pulled off the Thanksgiving feast without a major flaw.

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We fit ten adults and two wee babes at the table.

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We mixed and matched our china and crystal to  make it work. The food was all ready at the same time and was yummy. The beer and wine flowed freely.

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The wee babes were as entertaining as usual.

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So many skills.

IMG_9711.jpegBut, of course, what would a holiday be without an emergency call for some broken appliance or downed system?

IMG_1811.JPGThe thermostat broke and we had no heat, so that had to be fixed on Thanksgiving morning! Later in the weekend our washing machine broke and that one is pending. C’est la vie.

On Friday, daughter #1 and I brought up a lot of Christmas stuff from the basement. We decorated the mantel.

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IMG_2981.JPGWe also  had lunch with our best buds at our favorite restaurant Cafe Osage.

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IMG_9456.JPGAnd we did a little local shopping on Small Business Saturday.

Screen Shot 2017-11-26 at 12.52.23 PM.pngWe even sat outside and drank a beer on the patio–it was that warm–and listened to the symphony of leaf blowers in the neighborhood! Anyway, it was a glorious weekend combining friends, family, shopping, cooking, walking outside, decorating, movie-watching–all our favorite things.

Now it is Monday and time to face the music of another work week. Onward and upward.

*Psalm 100:4

Are you ready?

by chuckofish

Well, that week certainly flew by! We had our first snow of the year — a hint of things to come, but not enough to cause travel problems for anyone.

Son #2 joined us for most of the week, and the four of us had a wonderful time catching up. Alas, I failed to take pictures. We missed our youngest, but knew he was having a blast at my dual personality’s house, so did not worry. In fact, he had a great visit. He told me he couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so much. The wee twins captured Tim’s heart and he knew he’d been accepted when the little bud spat up on him. A fun time was had by all!

Meanwhile, back in the North Country, this dual personality took advantage of all the masculine muscle available to do some much needed tidying up. I rented a UHAUL storage unit!

It’s very reasonably priced, brand new, and very well organized. Into this lovely space son #2 and I moved the first of many loads of detritus that threaten to overwhelm my house.  We have an attic, but some things need climate control, and it gets really cold up there.

Children’s books, son #2’s collection of laser discs (don’t ask), stuffed animals, son #1’s kitchen stuff, various amplifiers and speakers belonging to son #3, our record collection, and additional odds and ends. I can’t tell you what a difference it makes. You can see the floor in Tim’s closet! And the family room no longer looks like garage band heaven. I feel renewed!

I’m almost ready to start thinking about Christmas. I even did a little online shopping yesterday. However, before I really get going, I need to spend a little time contemplating what the season is really about. Henry Van Dyke understood:

Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and desires of little children; to remember the weaknesses and loneliness of people who are growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and to ask yourself if you love them enough; to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear on their hearts; to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make a grave for your ugly thoughts and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open? Are you willing to do these things for a day? Then you are ready to keep Christmas!

Wonderful things are in store! It’s time to get ready.

 

Love your life

by chuckofish

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Tuesday when I was driving home it happened to be just the right time to experience those few moments known as “the Golden Hour” –when the sun is just at the point on the horizon that the light is redder and softer than usual. At this time of year, it hits the golden and orange leaves of the trees and turns them into molten gold.

Anyway, I was trying to stay on the road while looking east at the trees and not burst into tears. Does this happen to you? Happily I made it safely to the grocery store where I then got a look at an amazing sunset right there in the parking lot. The horizon was a blazing orange under a ceiling of clouds. Amazing!

Then I went in and bought my food. The most incredible stuff goes on around us all the time!

I have quoted this before, but it bears repeating:

“However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are. It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults even in paradise. Love your life, poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant, thrilling, glorious hours, even in a poorhouse. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the almshouse as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there, and have as cheering thoughts, as in a palace.”
―Henry David Thoreau, Walden 

Happy Thanksgiving!

(The painting is by Albert Bierstadt, 1886)

Come, ye thankful people, come

by chuckofish

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Today I am taking a half day at work, followed by a 4-day weekend. Huzzah.

My nephew Tim is driving in today from Crawfordsville, Indiana, and so is daughter #1 from Columbia. I will be in the kitchen cooking–terra incognita, for sure. But maybe we will have a dance party.

8f6180883df0ad438082a92665a38151--vintage-thanksgiving-thanksgiving-dinners.jpgAs you are celebrating Thanksgiving with your family and friends tomorrow, keep in mind what Joyce Meyer says: “Go home, and let all your relatives off the potter’s wheel. You are not the potter!”

Relax. Have a great day. Watch Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)

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or Miracle on 34th Street (1947).

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Count your blessings. Life is good.

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Don’t look so surprised!

Glorious things of thee are spoken,
Zion, city of our God!
He, whose Word cannot be broken,
Formed thee for His own abode;
On the Rock of Ages founded,
What can shake thy sure repose?
With salvation’s walls surrounded,
Thou mayst smile at all thy foes.

–John Newton, Anglican Hymn

If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven

by chuckofish

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If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,

Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,

Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content:—

The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,

And they that from the zenith dart their beams,

(Visible though they be to half the earth,

Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)

Are yet of no diviner origin,

No purer essence, than the one that burns,

Like an untended watch-fire on the ridge

Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem

Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,

Among the branches of the leafless trees.

All are the undying offspring of one Sire:

Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,

Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.

–William Wordsworth, 1832

The wee babes would probably prefer to shine in place contentedly at home, but their adoring parents are always dragging them hither and yon to experience LIFE. Sunday night they went to see the Christmas lights at the Anheuser-Busch Brewery.

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Little Lottie was, per usual, not impressed. The little bud was more game,

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but, yikes, it was cold out there! I’m sure we did the same thing ourselves back in the day. ‘Tis the season after all…

Personally, I am looking forward to watching the Macy’s Parade from the comfort of my couch.

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Daughter #1 will join us this year. For 5 years she watched the famous parade from various windows on the UWS or on the actual street. Indeed, when she would walk home late Wednesday night after her show aired, she saw the giant balloons gathered on Central Park West.  Life is decidedly less glamorous back in flyover country, but mimosas will be served.

Tonight I shop for the feast. Huzzah.

“Fling wide the portals of your heart; make it a temple, set apart”*

by chuckofish

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Thanksgiving is upon us. If you were out shopping at all this weekend, you know that Christmas is upon us. I made the mistake of going to Target, which was very crowded, and then going to Home Goods, which was crazy! Well, I managed to find gold tapers, so all was not lost.

The OM and I went out to dinner on Saturday night with some old friends. When we got home we watched a terrible movie–Guy Ritchie’s King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017). Charlie Hunnam couldn’t save this CG insanity which reportedly cost $175 million to make. Why, Lord, why?

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The double feature of two funny movies–The Great Outdoors and Uncle Buck, which we watched on Friday night, was much better. At least there was a discernible story in each.

The rest of the weekend I cleaned a lot at home in anticipation of multiple guests later this week. I ran over to the boy’s house after church to see the wee babes, whom I had not seen for two weeks! They are as brilliant as ever, but I didn’t take any pictures.

The OM made soup on Sunday night. (It’s that time of year again.) I washed the dishes.

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It’s a short work week! Enjoy it.

*Hymn #436, George Weissel (1590-1633)

Saturday sleuthing

by chuckofish

As you know, I’ve been going through boxes of old papers and letters whenever I can find the time. In my latest foray into the past, I found this business card:

It brings back some good memories. Back in the early 1960s we had a large black and white TV in a nice Maple case that looked more or less like this.

Its insides were full of complex tubes and wires.

Periodically, when one of those little glass tubes needed replacing, some fuse blew, or one of the more delicate knobs required fine tuning, we called Danny, the owner of the business card shown above. He would come right away and fix the machine.

Danny’s visits always thrilled this little dual personality. From his first appearance when I was three or four (?), we became fast friends. Danny always seemed like a kind of magician to me. While my father couldn’t make heads or tails of all that circuitry, Danny understood it all! More important than his technical expertise, he was an incredibly cheerful, friendly and tolerant guy, who never seemed to mind that I hung around watching what he did and chattering incessantly. I probably drove him crazy, but he never let on. His acceptance meant a lot to me. Alas, time flies. We got another TV and rarely needed to call a repairman, and I grew self-conscious anyway. Gone was the outgoing chatterbox of yore.

Finding the business card brought all of that back to me. I was chagrined to discover no last name on the card, but I did look up the address. It’s a nice little house in nice suburb and it happens to be for sale.

My sleuthing discovered that a Daniel W. Witt and his family once lived there. He’s now 92 — could he be our Danny? I don’t know, but if I did identify him correctly and someone close to him ever finds this post, I’d like to say thank you for being kind to a silly little girl way back when.

Isn’t the internet wonderful?

 

 

 

Friday? Oh hell yes

by chuckofish

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The end of another week. After a big work event today, I will be ready for a low-key weekend and a tall glass of wine tonight.

As it is November and we are approaching Thanksgiving with alarming rapidity, I have been thinking about gratitude.  I am grateful for and proud of my scholarly academic relatives, including daughter #2 who just had her first scholarly article published in a scholarly journal: “Sentimentalism and Secularism in Pierre” in Leviathan: A Journal of Melville Studies. (I cannot even spell “sentimentalism”…spellcheck corrected me.)

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She has been working diligently to finish her dissertation and we are praying hard for her. She won’t be home for Thanksgiving, but we’ll be thinking of  her and looking forward to seeing her at Christmas.

I am also grateful for Dierbergs Market which will be cooking our Thanksgiving turkey for us.

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I’m sure they will do a heck of a job. I will be doing my best to rustle up my cheesy potato casserole and open a can of cranberry sauceee99e6f9-eb1a-430d-a68d-0558cefba577_1.402270de716c2fe121299c317d2d79cc

and pop some crescent rolls in the oven.

Screen Shot 2017-11-17 at 6.27.35 AMI will be counting on others to bring the rest. I am grateful for the ten adults who are coming and for the two wee babes who will join us at the table.

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Did someone say cranberry sauce?

So this weekend I will be readying the house for overnight guests (daughter #1 and my nephew Tim from Indiana) and the dining room for the feast.  I am grateful for the opportunity to do this. Time to get out the china and the crystal and the festive tablecloth. Time to iron the napkins and arrange the centerpiece.

I am looking forward to our annual viewing of Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987) on Thanksgiving, so tonight my movie pick is for something else from the John Candy/Steve Martin oeuvre: Uncle Buck (1989) or The Great Outdoors (1988); Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid (1982)–something along those lines that will help us get in the holiday state of mind.

Also, this obit for a flyover collector was interesting.

Have a great weekend!

Society never advances

by chuckofish

“Society never advances. It recedes as fast on one side as it gains on the other. It undergoes continual changes; it is barbarous, it is civilized, it is christianized, it is rich, it is scientific; but this change is not amelioration. For every thing that is given, something is taken. Society acquires new arts, and loses old instincts. …The civilized man has built a coach, but has lost the use of his feet. He is supported on crutches, but lacks so much support of muscle. He has a fine Geneva watch, but he fails of the skill to tell the hour by the sun. A Greenwich nautical almanac he has, and so being sure of the information when he wants it, the man in the street does not know a star in the sky. The solstice he does not observe; the equinox he knows as little; and the whole bright calendar of the year is without a dial in his mind. His note-books impair his memory; his libraries overload his wit; the insurance-office increases the number of accidents; and it may be a question whether machinery does not encumber; whether we have not lost by refinement some energy, by a Christianity entrenched in establishments and forms, some vigor of wild virtue. For every Stoic was a Stoic; but in Christendom where is the Christian?”

–Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

What would old Emerson think of the age of computers and artificial intelligence…with self-driving cars and drones that bomb people and places on the other side of the world…

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Discuss among yourselves.

Thoughts and (more) prayers

by chuckofish

Do you need a little mid-week pick-me-up? Mandisa will lift your spirits! Don’t be embarrassed–sing along!

Here’s a thought for today from Frederick Buechner:

“God speaks to us, I would say, much more often than we realize or than we choose to realize. Before the sun sets every evening, he speaks to each of us in an intensely personal and unmistakable way. His message is not written out in starlight, which in the long run would make no difference; rather it is written out for each of us in the humdrum, helter-skelter events of each day; it is a message that in the long run might just make all the difference. Who knows what he will say to me today or to you today or into the midst of what kind of unlikely moment he will choose to say it. Not knowing is what makes today a holy mystery as every day is a holy mystery. But I believe that there are some things that by and large God is always saying to each of us. Each of us, for instance, carries around inside himself, I believe, a certain emptiness—a sense that something is missing, a restlessness, the deep feeling that somehow all is not right inside his skin. Psychologists sometimes call it anxiety, theologians sometimes call it estrangement, but whatever you call it, I doubt that there are many who do not recognize the experience itself, especially no one of our age, which has been variously termed the age of anxiety, the lost generation, the beat generation, the lonely crowd. Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness, and I believe that this in itself is a word from God, that this is the sound that God’s voice makes in a world that has explained him away. In such a world, I suspect that maybe God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him. But he also speaks to us about ourselves, about what he wants us to do and what he wants us to become; and this is the area where I believe that we know so much more about him than we admit even to ourselves, where people hear God speak even if they do not believe in him. A face comes toward us down the street. Do we raise our eyes or do we keep them lowered, passing by in silence? Somebody says something about somebody else, and what he says happens to be not only cruel but also funny, and everybody laughs. Do we laugh too, or do we speak the truth? When a friend has hurt us, do we take pleasure in hating him, because hate has its pleasures as well as love, or do we try to build back some flimsy little bridge? Sometimes when we are alone, thoughts come swarming into our heads like bees—some of them destructive, ugly, self-defeating thoughts, some of them creative and glad. Which thoughts do we choose to think then, as much as we have the choice? Will we be brave today or a coward today? Not in some big way probably but in some little foolish way, yet brave still. Will we be honest today or a liar? Just some little pint-sized honesty, but honest still. Will we be a friend or cold as ice today? All the absurd little meetings, decisions, inner skirmishes that go to make up our days. It all adds up to very little, and yet it all adds up to very much. Our days are full of nonsense, and yet not, because it is precisely into the nonsense of our days that God speaks to us words of great significance—not words that are written in the stars but words that are written into the raw stuff and nonsense of our days, which are not nonsense just because God speaks into the midst of them. And the words that he says, to each of us differently, are be brave…be merciful…feed my lambs…press on toward the goal.”

And here’s a prayer for today:

“Much as we wish, not one of us can bring back yesterday or shape tomorrow. Only today is ours, and it will not be ours for long, and once it is gone it will never in all time be ours again. Thou only knowest what it holds in store for us, yet even we know something of what it will hold. The chance to speak the truth, to show mercy, to ease another’s burden. The chance to resist evil, to remember all the good times and good people of our past, to be brave, to be strong, to be glad.”

–Frederick Buechner, The Hungering Dark

And did you know that November is Prematurity Awareness Month? The wee babes are literally poster kids for it!

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