Well, we’re down to the wire now. After nearly nineteen years, I am set to retire tomorrow from my flyover university. Today I’m taking my big ol’ iMac in to my old office, where I haven’t worked for a year and nearly a half. It is all kind of surreal. But I am happy and relieved. I prefer not to think of this as the end of something, but as the beginning of something.
I do not have a bucket list (except for going to Oklahoma City and Monument Valley) so I have no “plans” for my retirement beyond organizing my books. People always ask. I think what I am looking forward to is the “no plans” aspect.
I’ll finally finish my elephant which I began two years ago! Plus, I will have more time to devote to my blogposts, so expect to see some changes here.
Here’s a little John Greenleaf Whittier…
And present gratitude Insures the future’s good, And for the things I see I trust the things to be;
That in the paths untrod, And the long days of God, My feet shall still be led, My heart be comforted.
And a little Bob Dylan…
Strap yourself To the tree with roots You ain’t goin’ nowhere
There are a lot of covers of this song, but I have to love this version from Josh and Carson…
How was your weekend? Daughter #1 came home on Friday afternoon and we convinced the OM to take us out to dinner. We sat inside at Amigo’s and had a margarita and quesadillas while he ate enough for three people. We girded our loins for the following day when we babysat the wee twins for a full 4 1/2 hours. (This may not sound like a long time–but multiply everything by 2 and you might get an idea of the chaos.)
We had fun playing,
FaceTiming with Cousin Katie (waving furiously),
eating lunch, playing some more,
A “roll”-over accident–get it?–the kid is a laugh riot.
and finally, camping out in the tv room to watch Disney’s Tarzan (their new favorite),
We also put together our large 49-piece puzzle map of the U.S.A.
This led to a discussion of geography and the wee laddie corrected me when I foolishly said there are 5 continents. “There are 7 continents,” he said and then he sang me a little song naming them. Miss Lottiebelle is a chatterbox with something to say about everything, but he comes in with the zingers.
After the movie, we went outside, despite the fact that it was drizzling, because we had reached our limit of inside antics. We threw the frisbee around, played a little field hockey, checked out the ants under the Hosta, sat in the back of the Cooper, and blew bubbles. The boy picked them up right on schedule and we retired inside to clean up the living room and drink a bottle of Rosé while listening to angsty tunes from the 2000s.
On Sunday we went to church where we reassured ourselves with Romans 8:
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. 29 For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. 30 And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified.
31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?
As it turned out, the boy didn’t go into work, so the babes did not come over after all. Daughter #1 headed back to mid-Mo and I headed to bed, where I read and talked on the phone and napped. I think I am recovered sufficiently to work today.
And here are Josh and Carson with another cover from 1973.
Who didn’t get the memo? JK, there was no memo, which is even funnier.
Today I am standing in for daughter #1, who drove all over Missouri yesterday, after driving us around all weekend. I know she was exhausted when she finally rolled into Jeff City late yesterday afternoon, having made a side-trip to Springfield (to film a video) on the way home.
I too went back to work (in my upstairs office at home) and tried to get my mind off everyone leaving by concentrating on other things. Likewise daughter #2 is recovering from her trip home with her bright-eyed and very energetic baby. Life barrels on.
“Jean was visited by one of her rare moments of happiness, one of those moments when the goodness of God was so real to her that it was like taste and scent; the rough strong taste of honey in the comb and the scent of water. Her thoughts of God had a homeliness that at times seemed shocking, in spite of their power, which could rescue her from terror or evil with an ease that astonished her.”
― Elizabeth Goudge, The Scent of Water
This article by John Piper about angels interested me. “So, all angels serve the good of all Christians all the time. They are agents, as it were, of Romans 8:28, making everything work together for good under God’s providence.” As a matter of fact, I call on angels every day, especially when my children are driving around the state and flying on planes. Does that surprise you?
Willie Nelson will celebrate his eighty-eighth birthday tomorrow. Here is one of my favorite recordings of his, a duet with Emmylou Harris from 1990.
Have a great Wednesday. I thank God that his mercies are new to me every morning and that his grace is sufficient for all situations that I may encounter. Peace to you.
The 1970s is not my favorite decade. Although it is the decade of my long lost youth and beauty, I view those years with some horror and a bit of loathing. Lately, however, I have been revisiting the decade and finding comfort and, yes, even some joy in it.
Last weekend when daughter #1 and I recovered from one long bout of babysitting with a margarita at Club Taco, we listened with pleasure to the 1970s playlist being piped in. It wasn’t just the booze. I enjoyed hearing Don McLean, the Eagles, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Bob Seger, the Who, Fleetwood Mac, even the Bee Gees, and so on.
Besides listening to music from yon olden days, I have to admit that I have been watching reruns of Adam-12, a show I wouldn’t have been caught dead watching as a teenager when it was first on TV (my father was a big fan) but with which I am now quite taken. In fact I watch it every weeknight instead of the evening news.
It looks like I’m not the only fan out there:
Love the Coldplay mood music
As you know I’ve also been watching Starsky and Hutch and Banacek from the 1970s. Where is all this nostalgia coming from (and where is it going) you ask. I couldn’t really say. But there is comfort to be found in the adventures of old Pete Malloy and Jim Reed and comfort is what I’m looking for I guess.
Don’t judge me, but I think this guy is next on the list.
Maybe the point is, when you get to be my age, you don’t care if it is cool to do something. And I can’t always be reading the Psalms.
P.S. I also like these kiddos doing covers of music from the 1970s.
I had a busy day at work on Monday–four Zoom meetings! So I don’t have a whole lot to share today. Meanwhile the grass is getting greener and the leaf blowers and lawn mowers are back with a vengeance.
Yesterday was Nebraska Day and this article was very interesting about classic movie stars who were born in Nebraska. It is a very impressive list–especially compared to Missouri. But, hey, we have Scott Bakula.
This article makes some good points. “Remote, virtual, disembodied fellowship simply isn’t enough.” We are all getting too comfortable with not seeing people.
We’ll “tip our hats an’ raise our glass of cold, cold beer” to the late, great Merle Haggard (1937–2016) on his the birthday today. (April 6 is also the day he died.) And I like this rendition of one of my favorites, Mama Tried, by Reina del Cid and Toni Lindgren:
When the California State University, Bakersfield, awarded Haggard the honorary degree of Doctor of Fine Arts in 2013, Haggard stepped to the podium and said, “Thank you. It’s nice to be noticed.” Classic Hag.
So enjoy your Tuesday and channel some positive Walt Whitman attitude.
Why, who makes much of a miracle? As to me I know of nothing else but miracles, Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan, Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, Or stand under trees in the woods, Or talk by day with any one I love, or sleep in the bed at night with any one I love, Or sit at table at dinner with the rest, Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car, Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon, Or animals feeding in the fields, Or birds, or the wonderfulness of insects in the air, Or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring; These with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles, The whole referring, yet each distinct and in its place.
To me every hour of the light and dark is a miracle, Every cubic inch of space is a miracle, Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the same, Every foot of the interior swarms with the same.
To me the sea is a continual miracle, The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion of the waves—the ships with men in them, What stranger miracles are there?
We took the train, as planned, to Jeff City on Thursday and got our 2nd vaccine shots on Friday morning at the HY-VEE. Everything was blooming in JC…
…and the river was high.
After saying ‘hey’ to old friends,
…and rewarding ourselves with a Chick-fil-A breakfast, daughter #1 drove us home. I took a nap.
We took it easy for the rest of the weekend, but the wee babes came over on Sunday. We blew bubbles on the driveway…
…and read the liner notes on some cool LPs we got at an estate sale…
and played with some more vintage wooden toys we unearthed in the basement…
…and only one boo-boo resulted.
Good times.
Here’s Paul Zahl’s list of movies to watch on TCM in April. Once again he hits the nail on the head.
Sir Laurence Oliver’s Henry V was produced in England in 1943 with morale in mind. Somehow it has never dated. (I prefer it to the Kenneth Branagh version for all kinds of reasons.). And the music, by Sir William Walton — well, one can remember almost every note.
He is my soul brother.
Have a good Monday! And here’s something from Josh Turner and Carson McKee who always make me smile.
I had a very busy week at work and I hardly left the house. No trips to the recycling center or the Post Office to break up the monotony. I poked around in my yard from time to time, cutting daffodils, but it rained a lot, so I really didn’t go outside much. Our lives have been reduced to a very small scale indeed. If it weren’t for Zoom meetings, who would I see but the OM?
(Yes, I am grateful he is here!)
Thankfully I get to FaceTime with this precious babe who is taking after her namesake and dressing in my favorite neutral–leopard print. She is clearly feeling the vibe. (I think I need a jumpsuit!)
This weekend I plan to clean up the Florida Room in anticipation of warmer weather and being able to move all my houseplants out there soon. And I hope the wee babes will find time to come over and wreck havoc at our house. Life would be way too neat and tidy without them.
I’ll watch a movie from my Lenten List, because Easter is coming sooner than you think–two weeks! Maybe I’ll watch La vita è bella (1997) although it is a hard one, because the little fellow in it really reminds me of another little fellow I know.
But we need to watch, lest we forget what can actually happen. People who openly talk about re-education camps and deprogramming don’t seem to be able to make those connections.
Well, I’m feeling like some Ben Folds. How about you?
Yes, life barrels on like a runaway train. It won’t be too long until I am packing up my stuff in the office I haven’t been to in a year. And that’s okay with me.
“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances”
*Frank Loesser, “Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition”
David Zahl used this Norman Rockwell painting “Lift Up Thine Eyes” (1957) as a sermon illustration this week and I thought I’d share it too. Rockwell depicts New Yorkers with hunched shoulders and downcast eyes passing St. Thomas Church on Fifth Avenue and 53rd Street. They are not looking up at the beauty around them or at the message on the church sign or at their fellow man. Nowadays he would no doubt illustrate people with eyes locked on their cell phones, oblivious to their surroundings and their fellow man. But the sign on the Episcopal Church wouldn’t quote scripture–it would probably say, “All are welcome here” and fly a rainbow flag. And the church would still be empty.
We didn’t get much snow, but the temperature plunged. It was 7 degrees when I checked on Sunday morning.
It was the kind of weekend where you were content to sit by the fire…
and/or cuddle under a blanket.
On Saturday I did venture out to an estate sale at a very modest house in my flyover town, a house which I would normally skip. However, the pictures online of the interior of the house revealed a lot of nice things, including a mysterious array of early 1960s high-end children’s clothing. There were Steiff animals, needlepoint canvases, worked and unworked, and other signs of cultural familiarity.
When I got there my interest was piqued…
and when I found these M.I. blazers, I knew the house had belonged to someone I knew long ago.
Indeed, it all came together and I remembered reading that this woman, who was in the class below me all during my growing up years at school, had died a month or so ago. Well, estate sales can become very creepy when you realize you knew the person(s) who lived there. This happens more than you might think, mostly because I know a lot of older people because of my work. However, a surprising number of my contemporaries have departed this mortal coil, and that does start one thinking.
“Come now, you who say, ‘Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit’—yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” (James 4:13-14)
Well, I bought a book–I already have a copy, but I always pick up out-of-print treasures like this when I get the chance.
Sigh. All this has caused me to feel a certain nostalgia for the wretched 1970s!
P.S. While looking on Youtube for the GD version of this song, I found this cover by some talented youngsters–I love these guys! Jack-A-Roe (or Jack Monroe) is a traditional English folksong which has been recorded by Bob Dylan and Joan Baez, among others. Time goes by, but things stay the same, right?
Have a great week, starting with today–Monday! Look up! Pray for the day ahead. Pray that you might bring glory to God, in thought, word and deed. Thank God that his mercies are new every morning. Thank God that his grace is sufficient for all situations that you may encounter.
It was a dark, rainy, windy weekend. Every time I went out–and I did go out–it was miserable. C’est la vie.
So I got a lot done inside. I vacuumed. I tidied up. I cleaned out drawers. I needlepointed. All while listening to Beethoven! You see, we had a special program at my flyover institute on Friday celebrating Beethoven’s 250th birthday (in 2020 actually) and it was very interesting. Besides the fact that we screwed up a lot in our Zoom presentation (the music), it was kind of mind-blowing. Anyway, it inspired me and I highly recommend listening to some Beethoven. It really elevates one’s daily chores. (Just google Youtube Beethoven.)
Of course, listening to the seventh symphony, I couldn’t help thinking of the great scene in The King’s Speech (2010).
And daughter #1 reminded me of this:
We had quite a record collection when I was growing up. My DP and I loved to listen to classical music and dance around the living room when we were little girls. Sometimes we fake conducted while standing on the canister vacuum cleaner. Our brother and our mother used to quiz each other–you know, play a snippet and see how long it took before they could identify the piece and the composer. Our brother got to be too cool for that and moved on to more contemporary fare, but we still liked to play the old records. In fact, I still prefer listening to records to going to hear the symphony play. Even when I was much younger, sitting in Powell Hall always put me to sleep. If that makes me low-brow, so be it.
The wee babes came over on Sunday night with their parents for dinner and a frolic…
…and a wee bit of quiet time.
Good times. I’m not ready for Monday or, really, for a new month, but I’ll persevere. With a little help from Beethoven.
We are now in the last week of January! Time slips by even though we don’t do much.
On Friday night the wee babes and their parents came over for pizza. Daughter #1 arrived in town in time to join in the fun. While the adults gabbed, the wee laddie set up a Beanie Baby school with his favorite Collie as teacher. (Is that the cutest thing or what?) School must be on his mind and I guess he likes it!
In other news daughter #1 found this handmade mid-century child’s apron for me at a mid-MO antique mall.
How much do you love that fabric?
On Saturday I had the pleasure of daughter #1’s company while running a few errands. Gone are the days when we could enjoy lunch out, but we did get take-out margaritas from Club Taco to bring home and drink in front of a crackling fire.
The Bob Dylan sing-along started early and the music flowed far into the night. (The OM remained engrossed in his iPad.)
It was a good weekend. So onward and upward, remembering that today is the feast day of the conversion of Saint Paul on the road to Damascus.
Great painting–but please note that there is no mention of a horse in the scripture. Saul/Paul was on foot.
I repeat: Let no one take me for a fool. But if you do, then tolerate me just as you would a fool, so that I may do a little boasting. 17 In this self-confident boasting I am not talking as the Lord would, but as a fool. 18 Since many are boasting in the way the world does, I too will boast. 19 You gladly put up with fools since you are so wise! 20 In fact, you even put up with anyone who enslaves you or exploits you or takes advantage of you or puts on airs or slaps you in the face. 21 To my shame I admit that we were too weak for that!
Whatever anyone else dares to boast about—I am speaking as a fool—I also dare to boast about. 22 Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they Abraham’s descendants? So am I. 23 Are they servants of Christ? (I am out of my mind to talk like this.) I am more. I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. 24 Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. 25 Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, 26 I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my fellow Jews, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. 27 I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. 28 Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. 29 Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?
30 If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. 31 The God and Father of the Lord Jesus, who is to be praised forever, knows that I am not lying.
dual personalities 