Dakotah
She writes in lieu of sleep and walks in dreams
Aching hearts and bleeding bones
the prophets of Dakota soil
When will you bleed?
When will you dream?
Sorrow dies a lonely death on barbed wire fences
Meadowlark prophets sing lonely sagebrush songs
you thought only coyotes sang those songs.
I too am a poet
like my mother
like my father
like my aunts and uncles
We are all the children of Dakota soil
We are all the grain, the product of sweat and tears
We are all poets
We all grow sorrow
12.30.2005
12.29.2005
Epiphany
Time keeps on slipping.......
It's been awhile since I've posted, what with the Christmas season and all, however it is still the twelve days of Christmas. I also have not finished the story of anhydrous ammonia and the railroads that run through my home state. There is more....much more.
I will say that I had an absolutely wonderful Christmas with my wonderful boyfriend and his really nice family. His little cousins are adorable little people who have captured my heart and sorta challenged my notions that small children are all terrors. Kendra and Everett are sweet and well-behaved and love their parents and even come and give ME a hug when they say "goodbye." Observing Jon's entire family actually has challenged my ideas of how families behave. And this is a very very good thing.
My family was sorta shaken the year my Grandma Frankhauser died. I was only seventeen at the time and I've never really talked about how hard it was on my end. But those are stories for another time and another place.
I wish you all a wonderful Epiphany Season.
It's been awhile since I've posted, what with the Christmas season and all, however it is still the twelve days of Christmas. I also have not finished the story of anhydrous ammonia and the railroads that run through my home state. There is more....much more.
I will say that I had an absolutely wonderful Christmas with my wonderful boyfriend and his really nice family. His little cousins are adorable little people who have captured my heart and sorta challenged my notions that small children are all terrors. Kendra and Everett are sweet and well-behaved and love their parents and even come and give ME a hug when they say "goodbye." Observing Jon's entire family actually has challenged my ideas of how families behave. And this is a very very good thing.
My family was sorta shaken the year my Grandma Frankhauser died. I was only seventeen at the time and I've never really talked about how hard it was on my end. But those are stories for another time and another place.
I wish you all a wonderful Epiphany Season.
12.19.2005
A little righteous anger Part 2
As the story ended last time Stephanie and her friends were trapped in a college dorm. Poisonous gases filled the air outside the windows. Many questions remained. Would they be rescued? Would they live to tell the tale? Who would play their characters if this were made into a movie? And of course the question that everyone wants the answer to.. .WHat DO hot college chicks do when threatened by poisonous gas? Many have speculated. Some have suggested pillow fights or asphyxiation fetishes. Good guesses all, but no, the answer is much different and it involves..yes. THE SHOWERS!!! (ooohhh aren't you all tingly inside?)
Doors opened up and down the hall. People were waking up. The RA finally came to our room and said that she'd been told to send everyone to the bathrooms. We were to turn on the showers to put moisture and humidity in the air, breathe through wet washcloths and stay in the bathroom with the door closed until further notice. Al and I lived across from the bathroom. We crowded in along with all the other girls on our side of the 4th floor. Someone brought in a radio in hopes that eventually someone would announce something and we would all know what was going on. But it just played country music. All four showers were running and the air in the bathroom slowly began to feel a little better. I kept the washcloth over my face. At some point my roommate must have inhaled some of the anhydrous air because I remember her coughing uncontrollably. I wanted to help but I didn't know what to do. We all sat on the cold tile floor. Most of us had brought our blankets or pillows and most of us were in our pajamas. I don't remember if there was praying on our side, although Kirstie later said that they were praying in the bathroom on the other side of the 4th floor. I may have said a couple silent prayers. Mostly there was annoyance and confusion. "Why aren't they announcing anything on the radio?" "Damn these stalls are uncomfortable" "I can't take it anymore. I'm going to pee. No one listen, okay?"
The RA came in, then left again. She didn't have any useful news. Then she came back and announced that we were going to the first floor. We should not try to go back to our rooms, just come as we were, (like sheep) and follow her downstairs to the first floor and stay together. I believe there was some confusion as to whether anhydrous gas rises or sinks. Because of some misinformation, the RA's had concluded that anhydrous ammonia being a gas, must rise and therefore we would be safer in the first floor bathrooms. (WRONG!!!!!)
I felt a slight dry burny feeling in the air as we stepped out of the bathroom. We filed down the hall. I was terrified because I didn't know if the RA knew what she was talking about or what was going on. Would we have to go outside? We went through the door into the stairwell. The air was MUCH worse here. I felt a little panicky at the pit of my stomach. What was the RA DOING? Why were we following her orders? The air was definitely worse here and now we would exert ourselves going downstairs. What if we passed out? I could literally feel it getting more painful to breathe as we descended the steps. This was not good. I prayed that the RA's knew things we didn't know and that there would be some sort of help on the first floor...or that the bathrooms there wouldn't be too crowded.
We all stood in the hallway near the main doors on the first floor. We were waiting for further instructions from the RA's. They looked scared. Finally they said that they'd been told that anhydrous gas actually sinks. And so we would all be safer on the 4th floor. Right. So we turned around and filed slowly BACK UP THE FRICKIN' STAIRS. Back to the bathrooms...except I think there were more of us this time. It was crowded in the bathroom and I was sorta fed up with everything. I think by this time we'd all figured out we weren't really going to die. We just had to sit on a stupid cold bathroom floor and wait all night when we'd rather be sleeping in our beds. But the air in our rooms was probably tainted with poisous anhydrous ammonia gas. So we sat on the tile floor wedged in between the bathroom stalls and talked, or complained. Some of us tried to curl up on the floor and go to sleep. It was a LOOOONG night. Around 5:00 a.m. we were given the all clear sign and told we could go back to our rooms and sleep if we wanted. I believe it was about this time that there were finally some sort of announcements on the radio. Now that it was beginning to get a bit lighter and visiblity was a bit better, lots of people were going to the emergency room and it was crowded. I believe they said you should only come if it truly was a life or death emergency.
Al and I went back to our room. I wanted to sleep, but was a bit wound up. Al lay on her bottom bunk and coughed uncontrollably. I stared at her awhile. "Are you going to be okay?" More coughing. Al had mild asthma. "Should I take her to the emergency room?" I thought. "I don't know if it's safe for me to be driving out there yet. I don't know if we can bother the RA's and I don't know if she's bad enough to go to the emergency room if they're already full." She kept coughing. I rewet her washcloth for her and decided she probably wasn't going to die quite yet. She breathed through the washcloth until she fell asleep. I lay in bed and tried to breathe through my washcloth, but eventually it felt smothering and annoying and I tossed it away and tried to sleep. I felt angry and upset and scared and frustrated. I finally fell asleep and when I awoke mid-morning I called my parents and let them know it was all okay. Classes were cancelled for the day and the town was basically shut down because everyone was at home cleaning the residual white powder that the gas had left off of carpets and out of drapes. If they weren't at home cleaning they were in the hospital with major burns to their lung or eye tissue. A few of us remained seemingly unscathed. Cat and Al and Kirstie and I chose to carry on with our plan of a road trip to Moosejaw. We packed our things and left early afternoon with high spirits. I remember stopping for gas on the way out of town and noticing that the women's bathroom in the gas station still held that ammonia smell. We talked and laughed as Al drove. We were escaping the poisonous gas. We even wrote a movie about our experience on the way and Cat may share the details of that movie with you, but probably for a fee.
That is my story. It is anticlimactic, but scary nevertheless. There were others who had experiences MUCH worse than spending the night in a dorm bathroom. Many people fled to the shelter of friends' homes outside of the city. Other people simply drove their cars through the blinding white fog up to the north hill or the south hill where the air was clearer. Deer died. Small birds nesting in trees near the train wreck were asphyxiated immediately. Household pets were affected. Most painful of all was the simple fact that a young healthy man suffocated to death on his front lawn in a trailer court near the deraillment. He'd heard the noise the deraillment made, went outside to see how he could help, and became disoriented by the blinding fog of gas. He wandered around until he collapsed and suffocated laying in the snow. Emergency crews found him in the morning.
Doors opened up and down the hall. People were waking up. The RA finally came to our room and said that she'd been told to send everyone to the bathrooms. We were to turn on the showers to put moisture and humidity in the air, breathe through wet washcloths and stay in the bathroom with the door closed until further notice. Al and I lived across from the bathroom. We crowded in along with all the other girls on our side of the 4th floor. Someone brought in a radio in hopes that eventually someone would announce something and we would all know what was going on. But it just played country music. All four showers were running and the air in the bathroom slowly began to feel a little better. I kept the washcloth over my face. At some point my roommate must have inhaled some of the anhydrous air because I remember her coughing uncontrollably. I wanted to help but I didn't know what to do. We all sat on the cold tile floor. Most of us had brought our blankets or pillows and most of us were in our pajamas. I don't remember if there was praying on our side, although Kirstie later said that they were praying in the bathroom on the other side of the 4th floor. I may have said a couple silent prayers. Mostly there was annoyance and confusion. "Why aren't they announcing anything on the radio?" "Damn these stalls are uncomfortable" "I can't take it anymore. I'm going to pee. No one listen, okay?"
The RA came in, then left again. She didn't have any useful news. Then she came back and announced that we were going to the first floor. We should not try to go back to our rooms, just come as we were, (like sheep) and follow her downstairs to the first floor and stay together. I believe there was some confusion as to whether anhydrous gas rises or sinks. Because of some misinformation, the RA's had concluded that anhydrous ammonia being a gas, must rise and therefore we would be safer in the first floor bathrooms. (WRONG!!!!!)
I felt a slight dry burny feeling in the air as we stepped out of the bathroom. We filed down the hall. I was terrified because I didn't know if the RA knew what she was talking about or what was going on. Would we have to go outside? We went through the door into the stairwell. The air was MUCH worse here. I felt a little panicky at the pit of my stomach. What was the RA DOING? Why were we following her orders? The air was definitely worse here and now we would exert ourselves going downstairs. What if we passed out? I could literally feel it getting more painful to breathe as we descended the steps. This was not good. I prayed that the RA's knew things we didn't know and that there would be some sort of help on the first floor...or that the bathrooms there wouldn't be too crowded.
We all stood in the hallway near the main doors on the first floor. We were waiting for further instructions from the RA's. They looked scared. Finally they said that they'd been told that anhydrous gas actually sinks. And so we would all be safer on the 4th floor. Right. So we turned around and filed slowly BACK UP THE FRICKIN' STAIRS. Back to the bathrooms...except I think there were more of us this time. It was crowded in the bathroom and I was sorta fed up with everything. I think by this time we'd all figured out we weren't really going to die. We just had to sit on a stupid cold bathroom floor and wait all night when we'd rather be sleeping in our beds. But the air in our rooms was probably tainted with poisous anhydrous ammonia gas. So we sat on the tile floor wedged in between the bathroom stalls and talked, or complained. Some of us tried to curl up on the floor and go to sleep. It was a LOOOONG night. Around 5:00 a.m. we were given the all clear sign and told we could go back to our rooms and sleep if we wanted. I believe it was about this time that there were finally some sort of announcements on the radio. Now that it was beginning to get a bit lighter and visiblity was a bit better, lots of people were going to the emergency room and it was crowded. I believe they said you should only come if it truly was a life or death emergency.
Al and I went back to our room. I wanted to sleep, but was a bit wound up. Al lay on her bottom bunk and coughed uncontrollably. I stared at her awhile. "Are you going to be okay?" More coughing. Al had mild asthma. "Should I take her to the emergency room?" I thought. "I don't know if it's safe for me to be driving out there yet. I don't know if we can bother the RA's and I don't know if she's bad enough to go to the emergency room if they're already full." She kept coughing. I rewet her washcloth for her and decided she probably wasn't going to die quite yet. She breathed through the washcloth until she fell asleep. I lay in bed and tried to breathe through my washcloth, but eventually it felt smothering and annoying and I tossed it away and tried to sleep. I felt angry and upset and scared and frustrated. I finally fell asleep and when I awoke mid-morning I called my parents and let them know it was all okay. Classes were cancelled for the day and the town was basically shut down because everyone was at home cleaning the residual white powder that the gas had left off of carpets and out of drapes. If they weren't at home cleaning they were in the hospital with major burns to their lung or eye tissue. A few of us remained seemingly unscathed. Cat and Al and Kirstie and I chose to carry on with our plan of a road trip to Moosejaw. We packed our things and left early afternoon with high spirits. I remember stopping for gas on the way out of town and noticing that the women's bathroom in the gas station still held that ammonia smell. We talked and laughed as Al drove. We were escaping the poisonous gas. We even wrote a movie about our experience on the way and Cat may share the details of that movie with you, but probably for a fee.
That is my story. It is anticlimactic, but scary nevertheless. There were others who had experiences MUCH worse than spending the night in a dorm bathroom. Many people fled to the shelter of friends' homes outside of the city. Other people simply drove their cars through the blinding white fog up to the north hill or the south hill where the air was clearer. Deer died. Small birds nesting in trees near the train wreck were asphyxiated immediately. Household pets were affected. Most painful of all was the simple fact that a young healthy man suffocated to death on his front lawn in a trailer court near the deraillment. He'd heard the noise the deraillment made, went outside to see how he could help, and became disoriented by the blinding fog of gas. He wandered around until he collapsed and suffocated laying in the snow. Emergency crews found him in the morning.
12.16.2005
Dried earthworms
We now interrupt your regularly (un)scheduled blogging for a post about dried earthworms!
When my mother was a high-school science teacher in a small town in central North Dakota, she got the idea that her advanced biology class should bake earthworm cake as a class project. She had her students collect earthworms after it rained one day. They brought them to class, dried them and ground them. Then, they baked applesauce earthworm cake........and took it around to share with the other teachers in the building!!!! AFTER the teachers had eaten the "applesauce surprise cake," mom shared with them....over the intercom mind you, that the "secret ingredient" had indeed been dried earthworms. They are a good source of protein.
(Love ya mom. Sorry 'bout sharing your little secrets via blog. I think it makes a good story. You keep writing.)
When my mother was a high-school science teacher in a small town in central North Dakota, she got the idea that her advanced biology class should bake earthworm cake as a class project. She had her students collect earthworms after it rained one day. They brought them to class, dried them and ground them. Then, they baked applesauce earthworm cake........and took it around to share with the other teachers in the building!!!! AFTER the teachers had eaten the "applesauce surprise cake," mom shared with them....over the intercom mind you, that the "secret ingredient" had indeed been dried earthworms. They are a good source of protein.
(Love ya mom. Sorry 'bout sharing your little secrets via blog. I think it makes a good story. You keep writing.)
12.15.2005
A little righteous anger
I concluded today that the Canadaian Pacific Railway company is, or at least was, run by self-absorbed bastards concerned only for their own profit. You may or may not be familiar with the anhydrous ammonia spill that occured in Minot, ND on Jan 18, 2002. Here are a few articles to bring you up to speed. My version of the story is this:
Anhydrous ammonia is a noxious gas that is used by farmers to fertilize fields. It is transported in large white cylindrical tanks and farmers apply it to their fields in the spring. It fixes nitrogen into the soil and "makes plants grow better." (Apologies to those North Dakotan farmers reading this...I'm trying to write for a diverse audience.) Anhydrous ammonia or "anhydrous" as farmers call it, is deadly if inhaled and will suck ALL the moisture out of anything it comes in contact with. Soil that has been treated with andyrous does not have earthworms in it because....why? Yes. They have been dehydrated. *mmm...yummy...dried earthworms. Find them in your local healthfood store....or my mother's Advanced Biology class...but that's another story*
In January of 2002 CP Rail was transporting thousands of gallons of anhydrous ammonia from Alberta to Minnesota on train tracks that ran directly through the Mouse River Valley. The city of Minot, where I went to college, is located in the Mouse River Valley, situated right along the Souris River. (The college campus is just blocks from the river.) Bear in mind also that the soil in North Dakota freezes and heaves in the winter. This causes highways and railroad tracks to buckle and heave as well. Apparently some irresponsible moron hired by CP Rail was not maintaining the railroad tracks just west of Minot because the frost caused them to heave and when the train carrying thousands of gallons of "death gas" came along, it derailled, causing the tanks of anhydrous ammonia to rupture, spewing thousands and thousands of gallons of gas into the air. Apparently this gas sinks and because Minot is in a valley and because the air was too cold for the gas to vaporize quickly the gas sank into the river valley and sat there.
So, this all happened at around 1:00 in the morning. It was the day before my 20th birthday and I was sleeping peacefully in my dorm room. It was Friday and I had class and then my roommate Al and I and Cat and K. from the dorm were going to drive to Moosejaw Saskatchewan to spend the weekend with Cat's parents.
Around 2:00 am I was awoken by a loud knock on the dorm room door. I was bleary with sleep and couldn't figure out who the hell was knocking...but it was 2:00 in the morning so it must be important. It was Jill from down the hall and she said something about her mom calling her and a trucker or someone having an accident and that there was poisonous gas in the air outside. I was supposed to wake Alycia up and we should call the people we knew and make sure they were safe.
I was completely confused. "poisonous gas?" WTF? It was 2:00 in the morning, I wanted to be asleep and I wanted this to go away so I could go sleep. But the air felt drier than normal and my skin felt tight. Breathing sorta hurt. This was frickin' wierd.
Jill said that her mom had told her to wet a washcloth and put it over her mouth. I got a washcloth out of my drawer, wet it and put it over my mouth. I may have gotten one for my roommate too, I don't remember. Breathing really WAS easier with the wet washcloth.
I took an experimental breath without the washcloth and it hurt. I could feel my skin getting "tighter." I sat on my top bunk for a moment, breathing through the wet washcloth, trying to figure out what was going on. And it slowly sank in. There truly was poisonous gas outside. It would take hours for them rescue us. I couldn't go outside because there was more gas out there than in my dorm room. And how was anyone supposed to rescue us if rescuing us meant going out of their safe homes into the poisonous gas? I was going to die. That's all there was to it. 20 years old and it was over. The gas might slowly seep in through the windows and suffocate us all. Fine...we were all going to die, no one would rescue us.....there wasn't shit I could do about it, so I might as well go into "survival mode" and just see how this all played out. People in the dorm were going to panic...Al was going to panic...Jill was already calling people she cared about in Minot to see if they were okay. Al called people. I think I called my parents and let them know what was going on. We turned on the radio to see if we could hear some announcement or emergency broadcast system warning. There was nothing...only country music. I now understand that the radio station was owned by Clear Channel broadcasting, a major corporation that owns most of the U.S. airwaves. There were no Emergency Broadcasting warnings because A. the DJ was not in the studio, rather he had been replaced by a computer for the night. (And I KNOW they do this because my frind Jarrett worked for that same radio station and I've seen him recording the "computerized DJ voice") B. Clear Channel did not test their emergency broadcasting system like they should have and even though they tried to broadcast a warning the system was broken. Minot has tornado sirens and I'd heard them testing them. THOSE didn't even go off. There was NOTHING. We were all confused.
WERE we going to die? WOULD we be rescued? DID WE NEED RESCUING? Why weren't they telling us ANYTHING?........
And now back to your regularly schedulled programming. Next time on "A little righteous anger" Stephanie shares with you the REST OF THE STORY. Were she and her friends rescued? Is the Canadian Pacific Railway company truly run by bastards? What DO hot college chicks do when threatened by poisonous gas? All this and more...next time on..."A Little Righteous Anger."
Anhydrous ammonia is a noxious gas that is used by farmers to fertilize fields. It is transported in large white cylindrical tanks and farmers apply it to their fields in the spring. It fixes nitrogen into the soil and "makes plants grow better." (Apologies to those North Dakotan farmers reading this...I'm trying to write for a diverse audience.) Anhydrous ammonia or "anhydrous" as farmers call it, is deadly if inhaled and will suck ALL the moisture out of anything it comes in contact with. Soil that has been treated with andyrous does not have earthworms in it because....why? Yes. They have been dehydrated. *mmm...yummy...dried earthworms. Find them in your local healthfood store....or my mother's Advanced Biology class...but that's another story*
In January of 2002 CP Rail was transporting thousands of gallons of anhydrous ammonia from Alberta to Minnesota on train tracks that ran directly through the Mouse River Valley. The city of Minot, where I went to college, is located in the Mouse River Valley, situated right along the Souris River. (The college campus is just blocks from the river.) Bear in mind also that the soil in North Dakota freezes and heaves in the winter. This causes highways and railroad tracks to buckle and heave as well. Apparently some irresponsible moron hired by CP Rail was not maintaining the railroad tracks just west of Minot because the frost caused them to heave and when the train carrying thousands of gallons of "death gas" came along, it derailled, causing the tanks of anhydrous ammonia to rupture, spewing thousands and thousands of gallons of gas into the air. Apparently this gas sinks and because Minot is in a valley and because the air was too cold for the gas to vaporize quickly the gas sank into the river valley and sat there.
So, this all happened at around 1:00 in the morning. It was the day before my 20th birthday and I was sleeping peacefully in my dorm room. It was Friday and I had class and then my roommate Al and I and Cat and K. from the dorm were going to drive to Moosejaw Saskatchewan to spend the weekend with Cat's parents.
Around 2:00 am I was awoken by a loud knock on the dorm room door. I was bleary with sleep and couldn't figure out who the hell was knocking...but it was 2:00 in the morning so it must be important. It was Jill from down the hall and she said something about her mom calling her and a trucker or someone having an accident and that there was poisonous gas in the air outside. I was supposed to wake Alycia up and we should call the people we knew and make sure they were safe.
I was completely confused. "poisonous gas?" WTF? It was 2:00 in the morning, I wanted to be asleep and I wanted this to go away so I could go sleep. But the air felt drier than normal and my skin felt tight. Breathing sorta hurt. This was frickin' wierd.
Jill said that her mom had told her to wet a washcloth and put it over her mouth. I got a washcloth out of my drawer, wet it and put it over my mouth. I may have gotten one for my roommate too, I don't remember. Breathing really WAS easier with the wet washcloth.
I took an experimental breath without the washcloth and it hurt. I could feel my skin getting "tighter." I sat on my top bunk for a moment, breathing through the wet washcloth, trying to figure out what was going on. And it slowly sank in. There truly was poisonous gas outside. It would take hours for them rescue us. I couldn't go outside because there was more gas out there than in my dorm room. And how was anyone supposed to rescue us if rescuing us meant going out of their safe homes into the poisonous gas? I was going to die. That's all there was to it. 20 years old and it was over. The gas might slowly seep in through the windows and suffocate us all. Fine...we were all going to die, no one would rescue us.....there wasn't shit I could do about it, so I might as well go into "survival mode" and just see how this all played out. People in the dorm were going to panic...Al was going to panic...Jill was already calling people she cared about in Minot to see if they were okay. Al called people. I think I called my parents and let them know what was going on. We turned on the radio to see if we could hear some announcement or emergency broadcast system warning. There was nothing...only country music. I now understand that the radio station was owned by Clear Channel broadcasting, a major corporation that owns most of the U.S. airwaves. There were no Emergency Broadcasting warnings because A. the DJ was not in the studio, rather he had been replaced by a computer for the night. (And I KNOW they do this because my frind Jarrett worked for that same radio station and I've seen him recording the "computerized DJ voice") B. Clear Channel did not test their emergency broadcasting system like they should have and even though they tried to broadcast a warning the system was broken. Minot has tornado sirens and I'd heard them testing them. THOSE didn't even go off. There was NOTHING. We were all confused.
WERE we going to die? WOULD we be rescued? DID WE NEED RESCUING? Why weren't they telling us ANYTHING?........
And now back to your regularly schedulled programming. Next time on "A little righteous anger" Stephanie shares with you the REST OF THE STORY. Were she and her friends rescued? Is the Canadian Pacific Railway company truly run by bastards? What DO hot college chicks do when threatened by poisonous gas? All this and more...next time on..."A Little Righteous Anger."
12.14.2005
M.I.A.
The Christmas season is insanely busy. I noticed a definite hurriedness in the people I saw at the Riverpark Square Mall today. I went there to get the account number and routing number for the new checking account I opened. Why did I open a new checking account? Because I got a part-time seasonal job at a really cool outdoor clothing and equipment company based here in Spokane. All this means really is that I've learned a lot about a variety of people in the last week and a half and I've had less time for things like blogging. Hopefully this hasn't left those of you who actually check this thing regularly feeling abandonedl. I know that feeling and it's unpleasant. I started my junior year of college feeling abandoned because my boyfriend, my Lutheran Campus pastor and my private piano instructor had all left at the exact same time. Those were three important men in my life at the time.
In short, blogging takes very little time and I won't abandon you all entirely. But my posts may be a bit less frequent from now on. Hang in there and I'll catch ya'll on the flip side!!!
In short, blogging takes very little time and I won't abandon you all entirely. But my posts may be a bit less frequent from now on. Hang in there and I'll catch ya'll on the flip side!!!
12.04.2005
geography lesson
I love North and South Dakota because they are "home"....but I don't necessarily want to live there right now. I've always secretly loved the entire portion of the United States that is west of the Mississippi River: Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon, Nevada, California, New Mexico, Arizona, Colorado, and Utah. I like the Rocky Mountains and I know that most of the good hiking can be found in these states. Western North and South Dakota have some beautiful country too. And I like central North Dakota because that is home. But the entire rest of the midwest and the south really don't interest me much. There is nothing that draws me there. I would like to visit Maine and a few New England states someday. Florida was alright and I liked the Atlantic ocean and swampy forest. And I wouldn't mind visiting Boston again and visiting New York. New York is culturally diverse and interesting enough that I could probably even live there because I would be distracted from the fact that I would be surrounded by concrete and steel and people and would eventually feel sorta "trapped." But the entire East Coast as a whole doesn't attract me because it's too crowded with people and I've been told Easterners are sorta unfriendly. And then there's a person from the East Coast who I dated for four and a half years and who was sometimes (in my mid-western opinion) rather blunt and rude. That strengthens my suspicions that Easterners are culturally different from Mid-westerners and Westerners.
I still feel most comfortable in "the west."
I still feel most comfortable in "the west."
12.03.2005
The Importance of Reading
I found this article online. It points out that small children's brains develop intellectually, mentally and emotionally and are healthier if small children are read to. In fact this article says that some pediatricians actually prescribe reading to children along with regular check-up's and vaccinations. Apparently my mother already knew this. (She's pretty darn smart.) She started reading to me before I was born I think. She and dad continued reading to me after I was born. At the age of four I decided I was tired of being read to and wanted to understand for myself what the heck those funny symbols on the page meant. Mom, being a teacher, made flash cards for me that said things like "The cat sat on the mat." or "The cat sat on the hat." or "The hat is flat." She also gave me old "Dick and Jane" books. I picked up reading really quickly and by the time I started kindergarten I was reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder "Little House on the Prairie" series. And I still like to read.
12.02.2005
Recipes
There are some rather good cooks living here at Westminster House. And we have a nice collection of recipe books. But apparently someone decided it would be fun to create their own recipe because I found this on the table this morning:
Recipe for Disaster
1. 1 qt. Bourbon
2. 1 qt. rum
3. 12 pack Guinness Extra Cold
4. big thing of Bailey's
5. 6 pack of Mackinjack
6. 6 pack of Moose Drool
7. red, red wine
8. Weapon's to fend off those damn zombies
9. Haagen Daaz (Strawberrry Cheesecake, etc.)
10. Ben and Jerry's (Phish Food, et. al.)
11. Other food
The recipe doesn't really have any directions, so I don't know how one would mix and stir or how long it should be baked. However there are two notes added to the bottom.
In response to #8:
"B. suggests a quality shotgun and an axe (see: every zombie movie ever made.) Halbeards make for excellent zombie population reduction tools as well."
also:
"C., on a visit, adds LP's of questionable tase as per Shaun of the Dead"
Right. My sentiments EXACTLY.
Recipe for Disaster
1. 1 qt. Bourbon
2. 1 qt. rum
3. 12 pack Guinness Extra Cold
4. big thing of Bailey's
5. 6 pack of Mackinjack
6. 6 pack of Moose Drool
7. red, red wine
8. Weapon's to fend off those damn zombies
9. Haagen Daaz (Strawberrry Cheesecake, etc.)
10. Ben and Jerry's (Phish Food, et. al.)
11. Other food
The recipe doesn't really have any directions, so I don't know how one would mix and stir or how long it should be baked. However there are two notes added to the bottom.
In response to #8:
"B. suggests a quality shotgun and an axe (see: every zombie movie ever made.) Halbeards make for excellent zombie population reduction tools as well."
also:
"C., on a visit, adds LP's of questionable tase as per Shaun of the Dead"
Right. My sentiments EXACTLY.
12.01.2005
Musta Maus
My mother is a very caring person and dotes on all the cats that adopt her. The latest additions to her family have been four inky black kittens that were born last April. One of them is named Musta Maus. Musta is the Finnish word for "black" and the kitty is inky black. "Maus" is the German word for mouse and the kitty has a face that looks like a mouse. Musta Maus!! If I find a scanner I'll share photos of the four "Inkspots."
11.29.2005
Did I say "Urban?"
Starbucks closed...so I've moved to the martini bar around the corner. Did I mention that I like this town?
The transformation is complete.
I am sitting in Starbucks downtown, sipping a tall pumpkin spice latte, wearing a fair-trade wool sweater, Calvin Klein jeans, second-hand Birks, hennaed hair, and typing on my laptop. I probably no longer look like a rural North Dakotan, rather an urban Inland-Northwesterner. And essentially, that is what I now am.
And although I love my home, this is what I've wanted since the first time I visited Spokane at the age of seven. I've longed for the Northwest for a long time. I grew up loving the plains, but adoring Ponderosa pine trees (because of what they represented to me: Washington and my cousins), I've always loved all things Northwestern, liberal, independent, and coffee-house related. I dreamed of writing songs and playing them on my guitar in some little coffee house filled with guys with long hair and short-haired women, multi-colored chairs, art on the wall and an espresso machine whirring in the background. I wanted to get Mehndi tattoos on my hands and feet (I have the leftover henna paste from my hair in the fridge waiting until I have the time.) I've always loved hiking and held a special place in my heart for the Rocky Mountains. (Yes, I realize I'm a bit west of them now.) "Grassroots," "left-wing" "organic" "green" "hippie" and "granola" have always been, and still are, good words in my mind. My trips to Washington throughout my life have always left me feeling refreshed and renewed with an inner sense of "Oh yeah. I'm NOT the only one in the world who thinks the way I do. Being liberal isn't a sin after all!!!" I've wanted to move out here for as long as I can remember and now that I'm in Spokane, I hope to stay awhile...and maybe eventually go even further west! (Spokane is a great city to live in...but Seattle is even bigger and more "left"....quite literally left if you're looking at a map. ) I am in the Northwest and it is good. I have been assimilated.
And although I love my home, this is what I've wanted since the first time I visited Spokane at the age of seven. I've longed for the Northwest for a long time. I grew up loving the plains, but adoring Ponderosa pine trees (because of what they represented to me: Washington and my cousins), I've always loved all things Northwestern, liberal, independent, and coffee-house related. I dreamed of writing songs and playing them on my guitar in some little coffee house filled with guys with long hair and short-haired women, multi-colored chairs, art on the wall and an espresso machine whirring in the background. I wanted to get Mehndi tattoos on my hands and feet (I have the leftover henna paste from my hair in the fridge waiting until I have the time.) I've always loved hiking and held a special place in my heart for the Rocky Mountains. (Yes, I realize I'm a bit west of them now.) "Grassroots," "left-wing" "organic" "green" "hippie" and "granola" have always been, and still are, good words in my mind. My trips to Washington throughout my life have always left me feeling refreshed and renewed with an inner sense of "Oh yeah. I'm NOT the only one in the world who thinks the way I do. Being liberal isn't a sin after all!!!" I've wanted to move out here for as long as I can remember and now that I'm in Spokane, I hope to stay awhile...and maybe eventually go even further west! (Spokane is a great city to live in...but Seattle is even bigger and more "left"....quite literally left if you're looking at a map. ) I am in the Northwest and it is good. I have been assimilated.
11.28.2005
A Good Day
Yesterday was a good day. Here's why:
- It was Jon's and my "monthiversary" or one-month anniversary. I still adore him....
- Jon and I rode the carousel in Riverfront Park with Bill and Lynn (Jon's friend from high school and his wife) and Ali (another of Jon's friends from high school.) It was fun.
- Then we ate at Cyrus O'Leary's and wandered downtown for a bit. I found two good used books at Auntie's bookstore (Berlin: City of Stones by Jason Lutes, and Dakota by Kathleen Norris).
- We went to Merlyn's and looked around for a bit, then went to the Fair Trade show at the Community Building for some Christmas shopping. I walked into Global Folk Art and Lisa was working alone on a busy Sunday so she asked me to cover for her for five minutes while she took a quick break. I also took the opportunity to pay for my Christmas present from my mother. It's a blue hooded zip-front wool sweater imported from Nepal that I've had my eye on at Global Folk Art for awhile. It's warm, practical, pretty....perfect. I'll wear it for a long time.
- Jon and I hung out at his apartment and read the books we'd purchased, then walked back downtown to the AMC in Riverpark Square and went to Walk the Line. It's about the life of Johnny Cash and is VERY good. It is among the best love stories of this century. (Jon thought so as well.)
11.27.2005
Google Earth
Jon showed me Google Earth and it was so cool I had to download it to my computer. It's satellite imagery of the entire earth, including a feature where you can zoom in and see buildings and streets. So far I've found my parent's farm, the street where I stayed in Berlin (I couldn't quite find the apartment building), the Goethe Institute in Berlin, the street where the hostel was that I stayed at in Amsterdam, and the city of Oulu, Finland. What a cool toy!!!
11.23.2005
A Fair Trade Christmas
It's that time of year again. Advent began on Sunday and it's time to start thinking of Christmas presents for all your loved ones. I was able to do a lot my Christmas shopping (and my mother's) at the Jubilee Craft Sale on Friday and I'm doing a little more at Global Folk Art today. My goal this year is to buy only fair trade Christmas gifts. What I can't buy I'll try to make myself!! If you're starting to think about Christmas shopping, please allow me to make a few suggestions.
- Friday, November 25 is the day after Thanksgiving and a major Christmas shopping day. It is also the annual Buy Nothing Day. If you can, try to refrain from buying anything on this day. You have 30 other days between then and Christmas on which to buy things and besides the stores will all be crowded that day anyway!
- Buy Fair Trade as much as you can. If you live in the Spokane area, I suggest Global Folk Art (35. W Main Ave.) as an excellent place for Christmas shopping. There is also a fair trade show in the Community Building (35. W Main Ave.) this Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Ganesh Himal, a Spokane based fair trade company that imports things from Nepal will be there, as well as several other local fair trade merchants. Spokane is also home to Moonflower Enterprises, fair trade importers who import beautiful Mayan handicrafts from Guatemala. (Their names are Felipe and Maria and they're really nice.)
- Try to find Fair Trade shops where you live. If you're not sure if a product is fair trade or not, ask if the store or importer is a member of the Fair Trade Federation. Some people may use fair trade practices, which means they pay the artisan who made the product a fair wage, but may not be part of the Fair Trade Federation. Confused? Just ask who made the product you're about to buy and who imported it.
- For those of you who can't find a fair trade store near you, there are plenty of online places to shop fair trade. Some good places: Ten Thousand Villages, Serrv International, and Jesus Wears Fair Trade as well as many others.
11.22.2005
Hot Damn!!
Thanks to the Spokane Hot Zone I can take my laptop with me downtown and connect to the interenet almost anywhere. I'm at Global Folk Art volunteering right now.
11.19.2005
The Frankhauser Phenomenon
The Frankhauser Phenomenon is a phenomenon by which anyone in Spokane who I am introduced to who is a member of First Presbyterian Church or who is involved in peace and justice and discovers that I am related to "the Frankhausers" immediately treats me with familiarity. This is slightly surreal. The immediate comment is usually, "Oh, you LOOK like a Frankhauser." (You may judge for yourself if this is true or not by looking at the picture on Katie's blog or the photos on Frankhauser.com and comparing them to my photos here on my blog.) While there may be some family resemblence, I know that the Frankhauser phenomenon is largely something in people's heads when they tell me I look like Aunt Mary! (Uncle John is my mom's brother, there is no blood shared between Mary and I.) Katie and I were also told yesterday that we have the same eyes! Her eyes are brown, mine are blue and I'm also positive that I get my eyes from my dad!
11.16.2005
11.13.2005
Logos puppets
These are two of our puppets performing in one of our Logos puppet shows. Note the very professional puppet stage created from a table turned on end and covered with a sheet. The puppet on the right that appears to be looking at the ceiling is mine. I hadn't yet learned the fine points of puppeteering...like making your puppet look at the audience instead of the ceiling.
Thoughts on a Rainy Sunday
It's 7:30 am and outside my window rain is dripping from a gray sky. Ellie, our house cat is purring upside down on the comforter beside me and music is wafting in from Jessica's room down the hall.
The odors of the curry Brandon cooked last night still linger in the hallway outside my door. We've finished Logos and Homework Helpers for the fall season. I have chosen to simply let teaching piano serve as my part-time job, eliminating the urgent need to find a job. This leaves me with some unscheduled time on my hands. Fall is here. I have no where to go and no where urgent to be. No plane tickets home, and no classes to attend. I've got plans that will get me comfortably through the next two years I think. I've settled and landed here and it seems my main "job" at the moment is to simply live and breathe and learn and love. It's time now to just "be."
The odors of the curry Brandon cooked last night still linger in the hallway outside my door. We've finished Logos and Homework Helpers for the fall season. I have chosen to simply let teaching piano serve as my part-time job, eliminating the urgent need to find a job. This leaves me with some unscheduled time on my hands. Fall is here. I have no where to go and no where urgent to be. No plane tickets home, and no classes to attend. I've got plans that will get me comfortably through the next two years I think. I've settled and landed here and it seems my main "job" at the moment is to simply live and breathe and learn and love. It's time now to just "be."
11.12.2005
Oh Yeah!!!!!
My laptop arrived today...via UPS...shipped from the Farmer's Union Cenex station in Velva, North Dakota.
I have a laptop...and a wireless connection. I have MSN messenger again.
I feel connected to you all again..finally.
And I have tools now to do really cool stuff, like edit photos, create websites and powerpoint presentations, burn DVDs. ohhh the possibilities are endless. Look out World!!
I have a laptop...and a wireless connection. I have MSN messenger again.
I feel connected to you all again..finally.
And I have tools now to do really cool stuff, like edit photos, create websites and powerpoint presentations, burn DVDs. ohhh the possibilities are endless. Look out World!!
11.11.2005
MXTEATRO
This is the website for a theater ensemble in Mexico. My friend Maria, who I met at the Goethe Institute in Berlin, last winter, is the artistic director.
11.10.2005
piano links
This could be a reason to eventually get an MP3 player.
Aha...there's a Frederic Chopin Society in Warsaw.
...but I still don't know exactly how I'm supposed to play that measure on the last page of his "funeral march" (Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor)...and that's the reason I logged onto the internet in the first place.
Edun
You too, (U2) can be concientious, green and sexy to boot!!
Here are some of the expensive sexy clothes with Bono's label, Edun.
Here are some of the expensive sexy clothes with Bono's label, Edun.
11.09.2005
IESG #1 - Chapped Lips
Winter is coming and in dry climates like Northeastern Washington and North Dakota have, ones lips tend to chap. Here's what to do about it:
- Take a terrycloth washcloth and hold it under warm water until it is warm and moist.
- Hold the warm, moist washcloth against your lips for several seconds. This softens the dry, chapped skin clinging to your lips.
- Use the washcloth to buff the chapped outer layer of skin off of your lips.
- Pat dry and apply a moisturizing lip balm liberally. I recommend Chapstick, or Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm.
- Remember to carry the lip balm with you so you can reapply as needed throughout the day.
This information may be especially useful if you know someone you might want to kiss!!!
Warning: Lip balm can be HIGHLY ADDICTIVE!!!! Learn more here..
The Introvert's Everything Survival Guide
Based loosely on the Worst Case Scenario Survival Handbook, this will be a sporadic, but semi-regular installment on my blog. It will include my thoughts and ideas on surviving life and things I've learned in my 23 short years on this planet. Hopefully this will include ideas on everything from healing chapped lips to getting places on the German Rail system, to butchering a chicken, to creating a compost pile, to dealing with crowds of people. It will NOT include information on how to wrestle free from an alligator or escape from a sinking car. (Although if I ever should have those experiences, I'll certainly share the details with you.) Some may find this information useful, some may not. Hopefully at the very least you'll find it somewhat entertaining.
Adult missioner
Not only am I an adult, but as of Sunday I am now officially a Missioner here at Westminster House. "Missioner" is simply Presbyterian-ese for "missionary."
At the age of 23, I am a missionary. How the hell did that happen?
Editor's Note, November 23, 2005: I was reading through my journal today and found this brief entry from August 5 2004. "....God, I think I want to be a missionary for You."
Right. So that's how the hell it happened. In the future I'll be more careful when I tell God what I think.
At the age of 23, I am a missionary. How the hell did that happen?
Editor's Note, November 23, 2005: I was reading through my journal today and found this brief entry from August 5 2004. "....God, I think I want to be a missionary for You."
Right. So that's how the hell it happened. In the future I'll be more careful when I tell God what I think.
11.08.2005
Adulthood
Somewhere between there and here it seems, I've grown up. I'm an adult.
When did this happen? How did this happen?
Here is a bulleted list of evidence to support my hypothesis that I am now an official grown-up adult person. (But never a "grown-up!" Grown-ups are those boring people who've forgotten the joy of life's simple things and who cannot tell a hat from the inside of a boa constrictor.)
- I can communicate comfortably on a deeper-than-surface level with other people my own age.
- I am responsible for my own finances. I earn my own money and I keep a careful budget and pay attention to where that money goes.
- I live about 1000 miles from my parents and the place of my birth and although I still love my parents I am perfectly alright with living far away.
- People around me seem to view me as responsible and trust me with things...like their children.
- I feel fairly comfortable and relatively confident driving in Spokane a city that has traffic and even a freeway.
- I see other people value my thoughts and ideas and therefore I value them myself, enough so that I share them with you and the people around me.
- I am no longer mortified at the thought of going shopping. (Although I am still concientious about reflecting my ideals and values in the way I spend my money.) I may even begin developing a very latent fashion sense.
- I've been utterly alone and relied on myself and I know that I can do that again if I need to.
- I had my hair cut and styled today (for the second time) by Carrie at Bella Designs Hair Salon, downtown. It didn't terrify me to let her try something a little different and make my hair "flicky." And it didn't bother me to pay what I paid for that haircut because I know she is a trained professional and because I know that strangers reactions to me are subtly influenced by my appearance. In other words, I now have a hairstylist!!!
- I just purchased my very first laptop!
- I am beginning to see my mother as a friend and I hope that is mutual.
- I am dating a man who is well-educated and intelligent and works in an office downtown. I met up with him for lunch one day. (But I'm pretty sure Jon would recognize an elephant inside of a boa costrictor.)
So, there lies the evidence. I keep myself fed and clothed, and clean and dry. I do my laundry and clean my room on occasion. And I try to keep an eye out to help those around me as well. Somehow, on this perilous journey called life, I've reached the next level. I made it. I am an adult.
11.06.2005
The Moderator has a blog
This is a link to the Rick Ufford Chase's blog.
Jon and Katie both think he's pretty amazing, and I'm looking forward to meeting him at breakfast tomorrow morning.
Jon and Katie both think he's pretty amazing, and I'm looking forward to meeting him at breakfast tomorrow morning.
11.05.2005
Smash!!!
This is an excerpt from an e-mail I sent my mom.....
I'm finding a few things that I still own that I received from M. One of them is my computer. Since I'm getting this laptop I won't need that computer anymore...and it's kind of a crappy computer. It died once and M. accidently revived it, because he was angry with it for dying and since it was no longer useful and because he was angry with it, he struck the computer with a hatchet and then made a blowtorch by holding a lighter in front of an aerosol can and torched it....and the computer came back to life. Bizarre. So, what I'm doing is cleaning all the files I want to keep off of the computer and then, I want to take it to a bridge that my housemate knows of and drop if off of the bridge and watch it smash on the highway below. (This will all be done carefully with people posted down the highway to ensure that it doesn't accidentally get dropped on a passing car...and the pieces will be cleaned up when I'm done. )
We're sharing lifestories with each other during our house family time, so I told my housemates my entire life story, including the part about burying my engagement ring in Montana. As I told my story, the absurdity of some of the things I've done struck me and it was really funny...and they laughed too. It was a good experience. So my housemates understand why it would really fun to drop M's computer off of a bridge...and they think it's a fun idea too. (I may have someone salvage useful parts off the computer before I drop it.)
I'm finding a few things that I still own that I received from M. One of them is my computer. Since I'm getting this laptop I won't need that computer anymore...and it's kind of a crappy computer. It died once and M. accidently revived it, because he was angry with it for dying and since it was no longer useful and because he was angry with it, he struck the computer with a hatchet and then made a blowtorch by holding a lighter in front of an aerosol can and torched it....and the computer came back to life. Bizarre. So, what I'm doing is cleaning all the files I want to keep off of the computer and then, I want to take it to a bridge that my housemate knows of and drop if off of the bridge and watch it smash on the highway below. (This will all be done carefully with people posted down the highway to ensure that it doesn't accidentally get dropped on a passing car...and the pieces will be cleaned up when I'm done. )
We're sharing lifestories with each other during our house family time, so I told my housemates my entire life story, including the part about burying my engagement ring in Montana. As I told my story, the absurdity of some of the things I've done struck me and it was really funny...and they laughed too. It was a good experience. So my housemates understand why it would really fun to drop M's computer off of a bridge...and they think it's a fun idea too. (I may have someone salvage useful parts off the computer before I drop it.)
11.04.2005
Rick Ufford Chase
I should probably mention that this Sunday I and the other three people who live here in Westminster House are being commissioned as part of the Sunday morning service. This is cool. What's even cooler is that we've worked the commissioning into what we call "Missioner Sunday" which means that the missioners of Westminster House are responsible for leading the entire worship service at Westminster Presbyterian Church on Sunday. Jason is preaching the sermon, Jessica is doing announcements and call to worship and Brandon and I are in charge of all the music, including a really fun special number. And Don, Sandy and the moderator of the general assembly of the Presbyterian church, Rick Ufford Chase will be in charge of the commissioning. That is amazing!!
Storytelling
I am amazed day by day by the stories I discover here in West Central Spokane. My internal writer says "You must write these stories down. Perhaps you could have a book someday." I was just paging through an old Westminster House scrapbook and I discovered I am not the first person to realize these stories must be told. Many missioners before me have journalled and shared the stories they have discovered here and those stories are saved in the scrapbooks. It is amazing to live in a house so full of love. Looking through old scrapbooks and meeting the amazing people who have lived in Westminster House through the years I am so inspired. There are truly wonderful amazing people in this world and many of them have lived in this house. I can almost feel the love they've left behind in the carpets...in the walls...in the kitchen...on the dining room table that has been signed by every single person who has lived in Westminster House. God is in this place.
11.01.2005
pondering
It was a really intense weekend. The reality of what it means to live in Wesminster House and minister in this neighborhood hit me last night full force. I have many things I want to write about ...thoughts on poverty, community building, the true meaning of loving and serving those around you and the vast enormous-ness of God. I want to share my thoughts on all these things because I want the greater community of people I know and care about (and people who read this blog) to understand this place I'm living in and to understand and learn, as I am learning, about poverty..and community...and love.
For now I will simply say that my dear friend Lisa came to Spokane to visit me this weekend. We had a wonderful time together talking, exploring downtown Spokane, going to Greenbluff and walking through a cornmaze with Jon and Brandon and Vergy and some of Jon's friends, and seeing firsthand some of the ministries in the West Central neighborhood. I am thankful that she took time off from school to make the trip out here and I feel blessed to have such a wonderful friend.
At the same time, I was able to take Jon and Lisa out to my Aunt and Uncle's house for supper. Lisa liked them and they liked her, but what was also wonderful was the opportunity to introduce Jon to them as my boyfriend. (John's response was "And? Tell me something I don't already know"...that's the problem with having an uncle who is perceptive.)
Being the odd people that we are, and seeing as how family gatherings could get confusing with THREE John's in the family now, Jon has the new nickname "TOJ"...or "The Other Jon"
Welcome to the family...TOJ.
For now I will simply say that my dear friend Lisa came to Spokane to visit me this weekend. We had a wonderful time together talking, exploring downtown Spokane, going to Greenbluff and walking through a cornmaze with Jon and Brandon and Vergy and some of Jon's friends, and seeing firsthand some of the ministries in the West Central neighborhood. I am thankful that she took time off from school to make the trip out here and I feel blessed to have such a wonderful friend.
At the same time, I was able to take Jon and Lisa out to my Aunt and Uncle's house for supper. Lisa liked them and they liked her, but what was also wonderful was the opportunity to introduce Jon to them as my boyfriend. (John's response was "And? Tell me something I don't already know"...that's the problem with having an uncle who is perceptive.)
Being the odd people that we are, and seeing as how family gatherings could get confusing with THREE John's in the family now, Jon has the new nickname "TOJ"...or "The Other Jon"
Welcome to the family...TOJ.
10.29.2005
lack of power
I came home last night to a dark house. The power to the light switches and electrical outlets in our house is out. We have heat and a running fridge and stove and a phone, but if you want to read anything you have to sit by the window or light a candle. It was cozy in my room with candles flickering last night. But lack of power also means the computer doesn't work which means I had to wait a few hours...to post my next post...........
10.27.2005
Puppets and miracles
Mom, I hope you’re reading this post because I want you to know that you played a part in what I call a small miracle.
Oddly enough this miracle was birthed many years ago in a story my mother found in Highlights for Children magazine. The story was called "Why Crow Crows" and although it revolved around farm animals and a noisy crow, the central theme was accepting those who are sometimes hard to accept. My creative mother took this story, wrote it into a puppet show script, created stick puppets and recruited my father and myself to perform this puppet show for her Sunday school class and for our church. They loved it. So mom decided to create another puppet script using the same puppets. This puppet show was based on the story of the Prodigal Son found in Luke 15:11-32. Since we were re-using the stick puppets, she titled it "The Prodigal Crow" (the prodigal son was a crow, the father an owl, and the obedient son a chick…our other farm animal stick puppets had either retired from their acting careers or signed lucrative contracts with Walt Disney).
Fast forward to the present….or actually last Friday morning. The members of our house were discussing the program for our final day of Logos for this six-week session. Logos, as I may have mentioned before is a once-weekly after school children’s ministry program….in theory anyway. In reality it’s organized chaos. Combine a bunch of tough little kids from a poor neighborhood with a bunch of kind and loving adult volunteers who desperately want to minister to these kids and change their lives, but have all we can do to get the kids to just sit down and listen to us, and pour all these people into the sanctuary of a little church in Spokane’s West Central Neighborhood and you get Logos!!
We’d been planning to tell the kids either the story of the lost coin or the lost sheep through puppets, but someone decided that would be too hard and suggested we tell the story of the Prodigal Son instead. I thought of the puppet script my mother had written long ago and said "I think my mom wrote a puppet script about the Prodigal Son. I’ll e-mail her and ask for it." Mom e-mailed the script. I edited it so that "crow, chick and owl" read "Bob, Joe, and Father." The narrator became Jesus, because we have a Jesus puppet. We substituted "You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog" for the song "La Bamba" as dance music in the part where the prodigal squanders his money on wild living (although CCR’s "Fortunate Son" would’ve been the best fit there). We rehearsed twice before Logos started. I played the narrator/Jesus puppet part. Vergy, the girlfriend of one of my housemates, and an incredibly good puppeteer, played Bob, the prodigal son. Brandon, and Jessica (Westminster House missioners, like me) played the parts of the Father and Joe, the obedient son.
The kids arrived at Logos and tumbled off the bus full of the usual energy and insanity. One small group refused to play the games at game time and insisted that they like to eat people. Two other boys kept running behind the shed no matter how many times I told them "please don’t go back there. It’s Game Time, go play games!!" I led Music Time and it was much the same. There was some singing going on, but a lot of kids ran around. A row of fifth and sixth grade boys in the front pew hurled insults at me as I played my guitar and sang. I felt a pang of disappointment as I thought of our cool puppet show and that half the kids probably wouldn’t even hear it because they’d be talking and goofing around. Music Time ended. Jason (another Westminster House missioner) read the story of the Prodigal Son from the Children’s Bible. We puppeteers silently arranged ourselves behind the puppet stage and Jason announced "And now it’s time…for.. a…. PUPPET SHOWW!!"
I raised my narrator/Jesus puppet above the stage and twisted my wrist to make him look around for a moment. I couldn’t see any of the kids from behind the puppet stage, but I realized that for the first time that entire evening this group of kids was silent. They were so silent you could hear a pin drop. We did the entire puppet show and all I heard was laughter at the funny parts and an occasional whisper. When we finished and said "THE END!" I heard thunderous, ecstatic applause! This noisy, raucous, belligerent group of children was not only captivated by our puppet show, but they applauded at the end! I didn’t know these children could be that quiet! I am awed, and stunned and totally amazed. And I am thankful to my mother for sharing with us the puppet script she wrote for my Sunday School class many years ago.
Oddly enough this miracle was birthed many years ago in a story my mother found in Highlights for Children magazine. The story was called "Why Crow Crows" and although it revolved around farm animals and a noisy crow, the central theme was accepting those who are sometimes hard to accept. My creative mother took this story, wrote it into a puppet show script, created stick puppets and recruited my father and myself to perform this puppet show for her Sunday school class and for our church. They loved it. So mom decided to create another puppet script using the same puppets. This puppet show was based on the story of the Prodigal Son found in Luke 15:11-32. Since we were re-using the stick puppets, she titled it "The Prodigal Crow" (the prodigal son was a crow, the father an owl, and the obedient son a chick…our other farm animal stick puppets had either retired from their acting careers or signed lucrative contracts with Walt Disney).
Fast forward to the present….or actually last Friday morning. The members of our house were discussing the program for our final day of Logos for this six-week session. Logos, as I may have mentioned before is a once-weekly after school children’s ministry program….in theory anyway. In reality it’s organized chaos. Combine a bunch of tough little kids from a poor neighborhood with a bunch of kind and loving adult volunteers who desperately want to minister to these kids and change their lives, but have all we can do to get the kids to just sit down and listen to us, and pour all these people into the sanctuary of a little church in Spokane’s West Central Neighborhood and you get Logos!!
We’d been planning to tell the kids either the story of the lost coin or the lost sheep through puppets, but someone decided that would be too hard and suggested we tell the story of the Prodigal Son instead. I thought of the puppet script my mother had written long ago and said "I think my mom wrote a puppet script about the Prodigal Son. I’ll e-mail her and ask for it." Mom e-mailed the script. I edited it so that "crow, chick and owl" read "Bob, Joe, and Father." The narrator became Jesus, because we have a Jesus puppet. We substituted "You Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog" for the song "La Bamba" as dance music in the part where the prodigal squanders his money on wild living (although CCR’s "Fortunate Son" would’ve been the best fit there). We rehearsed twice before Logos started. I played the narrator/Jesus puppet part. Vergy, the girlfriend of one of my housemates, and an incredibly good puppeteer, played Bob, the prodigal son. Brandon, and Jessica (Westminster House missioners, like me) played the parts of the Father and Joe, the obedient son.
The kids arrived at Logos and tumbled off the bus full of the usual energy and insanity. One small group refused to play the games at game time and insisted that they like to eat people. Two other boys kept running behind the shed no matter how many times I told them "please don’t go back there. It’s Game Time, go play games!!" I led Music Time and it was much the same. There was some singing going on, but a lot of kids ran around. A row of fifth and sixth grade boys in the front pew hurled insults at me as I played my guitar and sang. I felt a pang of disappointment as I thought of our cool puppet show and that half the kids probably wouldn’t even hear it because they’d be talking and goofing around. Music Time ended. Jason (another Westminster House missioner) read the story of the Prodigal Son from the Children’s Bible. We puppeteers silently arranged ourselves behind the puppet stage and Jason announced "And now it’s time…for.. a…. PUPPET SHOWW!!"
I raised my narrator/Jesus puppet above the stage and twisted my wrist to make him look around for a moment. I couldn’t see any of the kids from behind the puppet stage, but I realized that for the first time that entire evening this group of kids was silent. They were so silent you could hear a pin drop. We did the entire puppet show and all I heard was laughter at the funny parts and an occasional whisper. When we finished and said "THE END!" I heard thunderous, ecstatic applause! This noisy, raucous, belligerent group of children was not only captivated by our puppet show, but they applauded at the end! I didn’t know these children could be that quiet! I am awed, and stunned and totally amazed. And I am thankful to my mother for sharing with us the puppet script she wrote for my Sunday School class many years ago.
10.26.2005
10.19.2005
Beer and Theology
Last night I was part of what may have been the coolest Bible study I've ever attended. For old times sake and to see some old friends I attended the Tuesday night gathering and worship of Lutheran Campus Ministries at Minot State University.
In many ways LCM was like family to me while I was at MSU. It was there that I could find the few other "Christian rebels" on campus, the people who, like me, professed faith in Christ, but also harbored the blasphemous notion that gay and lesbian people are not going to burn in hell for all eternity, but rather should be accepted as they are, accepted into the body of Christ and perhaps even *gasp* ...be allowed to be ministers!!! Or the equally blasphemous and perplexing idea that being a Christian is not really about prosyletizing to the "sinners" and "unsaved " on campus, or about raising your hands in worship and looking holy (Although if that's truly how you experience your Creator, more power to you.) but rather it's about serving one another, fighting for justice, working for peace and living the Gospel daily. Imagine that!
So I got together with some of these really cool people last night. We worshiped together and ate supper and conversation and laughter ensued. Then I turned to Pastor Tim and politely suggested that we head over to the The Blue Rider* and continue the evening there with the weekly Bible study. Hearty approval from all sides! Afterall, what could be more fun than beer and theology? Martin Luther would be proud.
There at the Blue Rider, our thoughts lubricated with Moose Drool, Guinness and Heffeweisse, we read Job 29-31 which launched us into a lively discussion on social justice, treating the poor with dignity, the wrongness of the right wing fundamentalist theology that claims that natural disasters and disease epidemics are really just God's judgement and a little bit about Job himself. It was truly a good time. To those of you who were there, "you rock!," it was great to hang out again and here's to Beer and Theology (let's see what Campus Crusade and Pacesetters think of us now!!!)
*For those reading this who've never been to Minot, The Blue Rider is an art/cowboy bar tucked away in a dark corner of downtown. It's owned by Walter Piehl, an art professor at Minot Sate University, who is also a bit of a cowboy. It's quiet, smoke-free and frequented by an interesting mix of college professors, well-dressed professional types and cowboy and farmer types. The bar's name comes from the title of a painting "The Blue Rider" or "Der Blaue Reiter" by the German Expressionist painter Wassily Kandinsky, Walter Piehl's favorite artist. (or so I'm told.) The walls are covered with prints and originals by various artists. It's the only bar I know of, anywhere, that has German Expressionist Art (Franz Marc anc Paul Klee) hung in the women's bathroom!!
In many ways LCM was like family to me while I was at MSU. It was there that I could find the few other "Christian rebels" on campus, the people who, like me, professed faith in Christ, but also harbored the blasphemous notion that gay and lesbian people are not going to burn in hell for all eternity, but rather should be accepted as they are, accepted into the body of Christ and perhaps even *gasp* ...be allowed to be ministers!!! Or the equally blasphemous and perplexing idea that being a Christian is not really about prosyletizing to the "sinners" and "unsaved " on campus, or about raising your hands in worship and looking holy (Although if that's truly how you experience your Creator, more power to you.) but rather it's about serving one another, fighting for justice, working for peace and living the Gospel daily. Imagine that!
So I got together with some of these really cool people last night. We worshiped together and ate supper and conversation and laughter ensued. Then I turned to Pastor Tim and politely suggested that we head over to the The Blue Rider* and continue the evening there with the weekly Bible study. Hearty approval from all sides! Afterall, what could be more fun than beer and theology? Martin Luther would be proud.
There at the Blue Rider, our thoughts lubricated with Moose Drool, Guinness and Heffeweisse, we read Job 29-31 which launched us into a lively discussion on social justice, treating the poor with dignity, the wrongness of the right wing fundamentalist theology that claims that natural disasters and disease epidemics are really just God's judgement and a little bit about Job himself. It was truly a good time. To those of you who were there, "you rock!," it was great to hang out again and here's to Beer and Theology (let's see what Campus Crusade and Pacesetters think of us now!!!)
*For those reading this who've never been to Minot, The Blue Rider is an art/cowboy bar tucked away in a dark corner of downtown. It's owned by Walter Piehl, an art professor at Minot Sate University, who is also a bit of a cowboy. It's quiet, smoke-free and frequented by an interesting mix of college professors, well-dressed professional types and cowboy and farmer types. The bar's name comes from the title of a painting "The Blue Rider" or "Der Blaue Reiter" by the German Expressionist painter Wassily Kandinsky, Walter Piehl's favorite artist. (or so I'm told.) The walls are covered with prints and originals by various artists. It's the only bar I know of, anywhere, that has German Expressionist Art (Franz Marc anc Paul Klee) hung in the women's bathroom!!
10.17.2005
Musical Vegetables
This is just too cool for words. It's music you can eat!! (click the "English" icon to view the webpage in English)
The Dakota Nation
Original Seven Council Fires of the Great Dakotah Nation (commonly known as the Sioux)
- Tetonwan - "Dwellers on the Plains"
- Yanktonais -"Ihanktonwana" or "Little Dwellers at the End"
- Yankton - "Ihanktonwan or Dwellers at the End"
- Mdewakantonwan - "Spirit Lake People" (but not necessarily the people who live on the Spirit Lake Reservation)
- Wahpekute - "Shooters Among the Leaves"
- Wahpetonwan - "Dwellers Among the Leaves"
- Sisssetonwan - "People of the Fish Ground"
These seven council fires are known collectively as the Great Dakota Nation. There are three different languages spoken by the Dakota people: Lakota, Nakota and Dakota.
Lakota is the language spoken by the Tetonwan. Those speaking Lakota are also divided into seven subnations.
- Oglala (The people on Pine Ridge...I think)
- Hunkpapa
- Minicoujou
- Brule (the people of the Burnt Thigh)
- Sansarc (French word meaning "Without bows")
- Blackfoot (NOT the same as the "Blackfeet" which live in Montana)
- Two-kettle
Those speaking Nakota are the Yanktonais and the Yankton.
The Mdewakantonwan, Wahpekute, Wahpetonwan, and Sissetonwan all speak Dakota
The people on the Spirit Lake Reservation are mainly Sissetons and Wahpetons (Sissetonwan and Wahpetonwan)
Patelson's music address
Joseph Patelson Music House Ltd.
160 West 56th Street
New York, NY 10019
telephone 212-582-5840
fax: 212-246-5633
Dealers in new and used music
(good place to find obscure musical scores)
There! Now I can throw away that scrap of paper that I've been carrying forever.
160 West 56th Street
New York, NY 10019
telephone 212-582-5840
fax: 212-246-5633
Dealers in new and used music
(good place to find obscure musical scores)
There! Now I can throw away that scrap of paper that I've been carrying forever.
10.16.2005
"My Best Friend's Wedding" or "Take my advice, just elope!"
It's hard to put into words the joy and stress of the past two days. Let me first set the stage.
Alycia and I have been best friends since freshman orientation at college. We've shared two apartments (one the size of most peoples's living room) and a dorm room. We're like sisters, so much so that we refer to each other as "my sister." We've laughed a lot together, shared secrets and cried together. We've prayed together and comiserated together over men. It was Alycia's shoulder that I sobbed into after I broke off my engagement. Together we've daydreamed about who we might marry someday and we'd both agreed to have the other as bridesmaid in our respective weddings whenever that day might come.
Brian, Alycia's fiance, officially proposed this past July. She asked me to be maid of honor. I knew I'd be living in Washington, but of course I accepted. Never mind the 20 hour train ride from Spokane to North Dakota, how could I possibly NOT come back for my "sister's" wedding. I wanted to be here to share in the joy and beauty of her special day.
The wedding was held at FaHoCha Bible camp where Alycia and Brian met while working as summer camp counselors. It was a beautiful fall day today, sunny and breezy, and the ceremony was beside the lake. Alycia looked absolutely radiant and elegant and beautiful and two tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked down the aisle on her father's arm. I don't know what expression my face conveyed but I felt a tangled flurry of emotion: wonder at the beauty of love, overwhelming joy that this beautiful day had finally come for Alycia and I could be there to share in it, terror that I might drop the ring in the grass, or trip walking down the aisle or do anything that might make the ceremony less than absolutely perfect. (Plus I was shivering in my sleeveless dress. Despite the sun the breeze was chilly.) The ceremony was perfect. It was beautiful and eveything I'd hoped for Alycia and I hope it was everything she'd hoped for as well.
However in the grand scheme of things, the ceremony was a small part of the event that was Alycia's wedding. There was decorating and ironing table cloths and cleaning and setting up tables and steaming the dress and a rehearsal followed by a dinner and so many pictures before the wedding. Planning a wedding involoves a myriad of little details that I would normally deem inconsequential. I tend to absorb the emotions of those close to me and I 've absorbed lots of Alycia's stress this weekend. As far as I could tell the best man was absorbing equal amounts of Brian's stress. (He, however was self-medicateding with the help of a hip flask filled with something potent and frequent nicotine breaks...maybe I should try that if I'm ever asked to be maid of honor again. ....nah, bridessmaid dresses don't come with pockets. I'd have to hide the flask in my bra.)
All in all the wedding was beautiful. I got to see some friends I haven't seen in a long time, and I met some new friends. I even survived giving my toast at the reception. Although I'm strongly considering taking Alycia's advice and just eloping (in the event that I do meet that special person I want to spend the rest of my life with.)
Alycia and I have been best friends since freshman orientation at college. We've shared two apartments (one the size of most peoples's living room) and a dorm room. We're like sisters, so much so that we refer to each other as "my sister." We've laughed a lot together, shared secrets and cried together. We've prayed together and comiserated together over men. It was Alycia's shoulder that I sobbed into after I broke off my engagement. Together we've daydreamed about who we might marry someday and we'd both agreed to have the other as bridesmaid in our respective weddings whenever that day might come.
Brian, Alycia's fiance, officially proposed this past July. She asked me to be maid of honor. I knew I'd be living in Washington, but of course I accepted. Never mind the 20 hour train ride from Spokane to North Dakota, how could I possibly NOT come back for my "sister's" wedding. I wanted to be here to share in the joy and beauty of her special day.
The wedding was held at FaHoCha Bible camp where Alycia and Brian met while working as summer camp counselors. It was a beautiful fall day today, sunny and breezy, and the ceremony was beside the lake. Alycia looked absolutely radiant and elegant and beautiful and two tears rolled down her cheeks as she walked down the aisle on her father's arm. I don't know what expression my face conveyed but I felt a tangled flurry of emotion: wonder at the beauty of love, overwhelming joy that this beautiful day had finally come for Alycia and I could be there to share in it, terror that I might drop the ring in the grass, or trip walking down the aisle or do anything that might make the ceremony less than absolutely perfect. (Plus I was shivering in my sleeveless dress. Despite the sun the breeze was chilly.) The ceremony was perfect. It was beautiful and eveything I'd hoped for Alycia and I hope it was everything she'd hoped for as well.
However in the grand scheme of things, the ceremony was a small part of the event that was Alycia's wedding. There was decorating and ironing table cloths and cleaning and setting up tables and steaming the dress and a rehearsal followed by a dinner and so many pictures before the wedding. Planning a wedding involoves a myriad of little details that I would normally deem inconsequential. I tend to absorb the emotions of those close to me and I 've absorbed lots of Alycia's stress this weekend. As far as I could tell the best man was absorbing equal amounts of Brian's stress. (He, however was self-medicateding with the help of a hip flask filled with something potent and frequent nicotine breaks...maybe I should try that if I'm ever asked to be maid of honor again. ....nah, bridessmaid dresses don't come with pockets. I'd have to hide the flask in my bra.)
All in all the wedding was beautiful. I got to see some friends I haven't seen in a long time, and I met some new friends. I even survived giving my toast at the reception. Although I'm strongly considering taking Alycia's advice and just eloping (in the event that I do meet that special person I want to spend the rest of my life with.)
10.13.2005
2000 dead
2000 Americans have now died in Iraq. There was a silent vigil here in Spokane today to commemorate those deaths. War is wrong. War is sin.
In other news, I finished and sent the resume and cover letter with half an hour to spare. I'm applying for a position as "Living Wage Project Coordinator" for the Peace and Justice Action League of Spokane.
Now, I go off to North Dakota, where treeless spaces, a wedding, and family and friends await me.
In other news, I finished and sent the resume and cover letter with half an hour to spare. I'm applying for a position as "Living Wage Project Coordinator" for the Peace and Justice Action League of Spokane.
Now, I go off to North Dakota, where treeless spaces, a wedding, and family and friends await me.
Tired
I leave on a train for North Dakota in aproximately 2 hours. I am currently rewriting my resume and writing a cover letter to apply for a job. The deadline to apply for this job is tomorrow. It seems like there should have been a more ideal time to write a resume and cover letter. Why am I doing it NOW??? Procrastination is a horrible horrible thing.
Man I'm tired.
Logos was today. The kids were absolutely insane. INSANE!!! Some of them are great kids. But there are a few who don't listen to a word anyone says, who fight, swear, are disruptive and actually are dangerous to the safety of the other kids. I've actually worked with children for quite awhile now and I've NEVER had an experience quite like tonight.
I want to go somewhere quiet and sleep for a long time.
Tomorrow's adventure is 20 hours on a train. Yay.
Man I'm tired.
Logos was today. The kids were absolutely insane. INSANE!!! Some of them are great kids. But there are a few who don't listen to a word anyone says, who fight, swear, are disruptive and actually are dangerous to the safety of the other kids. I've actually worked with children for quite awhile now and I've NEVER had an experience quite like tonight.
I want to go somewhere quiet and sleep for a long time.
Tomorrow's adventure is 20 hours on a train. Yay.
10.07.2005
Minimum wage
Washington state has the highest minimum wage in the nation: $7.35 /hour
That's a good thing, I think, at least for those who live here.
Most states, including North Dakota, go by the federal standard wage of $5.15 /hour
Some states, such as Tennessee have no minimum wage laws!!! That's preposterous!!! It's just another chance for rich coroporate executives to line their pockets while exploiting the people at the bottom of the ladder.
One alternative is a living wage. Read more about the living wage here.
That's a good thing, I think, at least for those who live here.
Most states, including North Dakota, go by the federal standard wage of $5.15 /hour
Some states, such as Tennessee have no minimum wage laws!!! That's preposterous!!! It's just another chance for rich coroporate executives to line their pockets while exploiting the people at the bottom of the ladder.
One alternative is a living wage. Read more about the living wage here.
Commitments
I'm starting to wonder if I've waded a little too far into the waters of busy-ness again. There are so many things I'm interested in and I like being involved and meeting new people and there is so much here to get involved in. The ministry of Westminster House requires a good deal of time by itself. We run a once-weekly after-school program called Logos, a twice weekly tutoring program called "Homework Helpers" and then there are meetings and just hanging out with kids. Besides this, I'm looking for a job, and finding lots of volunteer opportunities. I'm often asking myself "What day is it, and what have I committed myself to today? (And am I where I'm supposed to be and what have I forgotten to do?)" New adventures and projects are good, but I forget that I'm only one person and I can only do so much in the 24 hours that each day has. So, what have I committed myself to? And is this possible or am I completely out of my mind?
- Logos: My housemates and I plan this program together. We create a short puppet show based on a Bible story, and perform it for the kids. I'm also in charge of leading about 10 minutes of music. There is a game time at the beginning, small group time after the puppet show where we discuss the Bible story in small groups (I spend most of my small group time trying to coerce them to just sit still for pete's sake. "Don't eat the offering envelope!! The church needs that....please don't sit on the back of the pew...wait! Where are you going? No, don't hit him! Aghghghg!!" ) Altogether I'm at the church from 3:00 until 6:30 on Wednesdays. (3 1/2 hrs/week, plus planning and prep)
- Homework Helpers (helping kids with homework and journalling with them. We also have snack and game time. I'm in charge of preparing snacks. (Tuesdays and Thursdays, 3:00 - 4:30, that's 3 hrs/week
- Pianist for Westminster church "praise choir" "Practice" is Wednesdays after Logos for an hour, plus 1/2 hour "practice" on Sunday mornings. I'd like to do more with the praise choir because I know we could be better. (1 1/2 hrs/week)
- volunteering at Global Folk Art (Spokane's only not-for-profit, fair trade store) once or twice a week. I've never really worked retail before, but I really like it. I ring people up at the till, answer the phone, arrange displays, chat with customers, whatever needs to be done. (4-7 hrs/week)
- looking for a job (mighty discouraging and that's all I'm saying)
- teaching piano lessons. I've got two students right now. (2 hrs/week, plus prep time)
- Shalom book club (reading a book and meeting once a month to discuss it
- a church musicians reading group (much like the Shalom book club)
- twice weekly Biblestudy with my housemates
- Westminster house family time
- once a week mentoring time with Paige, one of the board members
- Board meeting once a month, morning meetings with Don and Sandy twice a month, session meeting once a month
- writing for the Anuak Justice website
- teaching a group piano class at the West Central Community center
The last two projects are still getting going. And I'm sure they'll take plenty of time. Plus there's fun stuff to do, like movies and playing Ultimate Frisbee on Sunday nights.
10.05.2005
Anuak Justice
In December of 2003, over 400 innocent people were massacred. These people were Anuak, a tribe of peaceful people living in the Gambella region of southwestern Ethiopia, near the border of Ethiopia and Sudan. Who were the perpetrators of this massacre? The Ethiopian military. The Anuak people have been and still are victims of genocide and horrific crimes against humanity and although the Ethiopian government won't admit this outright, the reasoning behind these atrocities boils down to the simple fact that there is oil beneath the land where the Anuak lived. You've most likely not heard a word about any of this because the mainstream media doesn't print stuff like that. (If you want to know more, take some time to read www.anuakjustice.org)
Many of the Anuak people have fled from their homeland and some have come to the US. There is a large Anuak population in Minnesota and also many Anuak here in Spokane. It was through the Anuak here in Spokane that some folks, including my aunt and uncle, from First Presbyterian church became aware of the massacre in 2003 literally as the massacre was occurring. Desperate Anuak people in Gambella called their relatives in Spokane and Minnesota as their families were being dragged out of their houses, beaten, and shot. I can only imagine how horrifying and helpless it must have felt to hear the gunshots and tears coming through the telephone. The Anuak in Spokane turned to their friends at First Presbyterian for help. Through the efforts of these people and others the Anuak Justice Council was developed. It exists to unite the Anuak in the US, to inform the world about the situation in Gambella and to advocate for the rights of these people before world governments. Please, please check out the website as you will learn more there than I can possibly explain in this entry. And pray for the Anuak people.
Many of the Anuak people have fled from their homeland and some have come to the US. There is a large Anuak population in Minnesota and also many Anuak here in Spokane. It was through the Anuak here in Spokane that some folks, including my aunt and uncle, from First Presbyterian church became aware of the massacre in 2003 literally as the massacre was occurring. Desperate Anuak people in Gambella called their relatives in Spokane and Minnesota as their families were being dragged out of their houses, beaten, and shot. I can only imagine how horrifying and helpless it must have felt to hear the gunshots and tears coming through the telephone. The Anuak in Spokane turned to their friends at First Presbyterian for help. Through the efforts of these people and others the Anuak Justice Council was developed. It exists to unite the Anuak in the US, to inform the world about the situation in Gambella and to advocate for the rights of these people before world governments. Please, please check out the website as you will learn more there than I can possibly explain in this entry. And pray for the Anuak people.
10.04.2005
The McGill Report
In case you may have forgotten, this article is yet another reminder that we do live in an unjust world. Pray for the Anuak, please. I'm interviewing Obang Metho today (mentioned in the article). more later.
Ninja on my doorstep
Today I answered my doorbell and found a five foot ninja complete with black plastic sword standing on the front step. (Man, that's just what I was hoping for today, too! I mean really, how many of YOU have been visited by a ninja?)
It was Daniel, the kid who lives across the street. He was going around "trying to scare people" (his words) I think he's supposed to be in school. Oh well, I don't ask questions, I just live here, right?
Other than greeting ninjas my day has been quiet and has included:
It was Daniel, the kid who lives across the street. He was going around "trying to scare people" (his words) I think he's supposed to be in school. Oh well, I don't ask questions, I just live here, right?
Other than greeting ninjas my day has been quiet and has included:
- a two-hour house meeting with Pastor Sandy and Don,
- creating a piano studio policy
- trying (and failling) to get the printers to work in our house office,
- a trip to Costco to buy house groceries (in massive quantites) with my housemate Jessica
- unloading groceries in the rain
- walking to the community center to print my piano studio policy because the printers here don't work
10.01.2005
Fall drifts in like leaves from the trees
Fall is settling gently around us like a quilt, or like the crimson and gold leaves drifting from the trees. There is a maple on the corner that looks as if it's on fire. I took the old bike in the garage out for a ride this morning. The air felt thick and almost warm and the sky hung heavy with clouds.
It's just a few blocks from Westminster House to the Spokane river. I rode down to the water and I stopped and stood awhile staring at the water and listening to the ripples lapping the shore. Someone had built a bonfire there by the water's edge and the ring of rocks sat, cold and abandoned, cradling the charred remains of love letters. I wonder who wrote those letters and why they burned them.
My life here is slowly arranging itself. I'm learning my way around Spokane. I'm getting to know my housemates. I'm finding a few piano students. I'm beginning to feel a part of this community.
My housemates and I have Bible study together two mornings a week. We've begun reading the book of Nehemiah. This book recounts how the prophet Nehemiah organized and led the people in rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, years after they'd been torn down by invaders. We discuss how we can apply what we're reading to what we're doing here in West Central Spokane. We're not literally rebuilding a wall. We're working to build community in this place.
It's just a few blocks from Westminster House to the Spokane river. I rode down to the water and I stopped and stood awhile staring at the water and listening to the ripples lapping the shore. Someone had built a bonfire there by the water's edge and the ring of rocks sat, cold and abandoned, cradling the charred remains of love letters. I wonder who wrote those letters and why they burned them.
My life here is slowly arranging itself. I'm learning my way around Spokane. I'm getting to know my housemates. I'm finding a few piano students. I'm beginning to feel a part of this community.
My housemates and I have Bible study together two mornings a week. We've begun reading the book of Nehemiah. This book recounts how the prophet Nehemiah organized and led the people in rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, years after they'd been torn down by invaders. We discuss how we can apply what we're reading to what we're doing here in West Central Spokane. We're not literally rebuilding a wall. We're working to build community in this place.
9.23.2005
What I've been up to.
a few things I've experienced in the past few weeks, in no particular order:
- Meetings, meetings meetings! Namely a Presbytery meeting and a session meeting. Just when I thought I had the Lutheran and Methodist churchs figured out. Now it's the Presbyterian church.
- tours of the ministries of West Central neighborhood. There are so many, but still there is so much poverty here. This world is unjust. What are we going to do about it?
- a spelling bee...in a bar. There is a really cool bar in downtown Spokane called "The B-side" I went to support my housemate but I ended up entering myself...and took fourth. Mom and Dad, your college tuition dollars were not wasted because I can spell "glockenspiel"...umm, yeah
- The opening of the Monroe Street bridge!
- Volunteering at Global Folk Art, Spokane's only fair-trade non-profit store
- Hiking with my housemate and some new friends at Priest Lake, Idaho
- glow in the dark, night Ultimate Frisbee under the full moon. (with cool red and green glowing headbands.)
- getting lost numerous times on Spokane's one way streets
9.09.2005
busy
Still here, still looking for a job, don't have internet, the library's closing, that's all. But I feel optimistic.
9.04.2005
I'm here!
I'm in Spokane and I'm loving it so far. The house is great, the neighborhood kids are fun and I'm getting involved in the church and community. I have a piano student already. It's going to be a growing stretching learning year and I'll be quite busy.
I love the mountains and the trees here.
I love the mountains and the trees here.
8.26.2005
It's just a few days until I hit the road. I leave in four days. I have four short little days to pack and say goodbyes to my family. Four days to tie up loose ends. Four days to soak in the sights, sounds and smells of home, the roosters crowing in the cool mornings, the grass resonating with the August songs of crickets and grasshoppers. Pakcing is a process of putting things into boxes, of tying them up and putting them into bags and bundles. But I'm not just packing up my belonings, I"m tying up the loose ends of myself. I'm bundling up and storing away images and memories of home. I'm sticking them back in a safe place in my mind, to be taken out and dusted off when need be, to remind myself of who I am and what I'm about. I'm going to miss the smell of fresh turned earth in spring, the bright fields of yellow-haloed sunflowers expectantly facing eastward, the way the sunset turns wheat fields to soft gold. I'm going to miss the sunrise painting the lake ripples waxey pink and navy blue. I'm going to miss the quiet.
8.25.2005
Go west young woman!!
As I did last summer, I started this summer with some inner apprehension over Sidewalk Sonday School I didn't voice it much, but it was there. But we were well-recieved everywhere we went, met some wonderful people, braved heat, wind, rain, and cold, and only had two automotive failures. Overall it was a successful summer.
Now summer is careening to a close and I am preparing for another transition, a westward move. At the end of August I'm moving to Spokane Washington to be a part of the community and mission of Westminster House. Westminster House is owned by the Westminster Presbyterian church and is located in Spokane's West Central district, a neighborhood that has seen some decline in it's years. It is a neighborhood populated both by families on welfare and more affluent families who have moved to the neighborhood recently to fix up some older houses in the area. Westminster House is described by Sandy Brocoway, Pastor of Westminster Presbyterian as "a beacon of safety for neighborhood children, a place offering Bible study and a place where young adults live while engaging in neighborhood mission." (I got that from an article in "The Fig Tree" which I linked to under "Westminster Presbyterian church") I will be living there with three other young people, who I have never met. Together we will attempt to create this safe haven for local kids, and run after-school programs for the kids. I hope to teach piano lessons as part of my ministry.
I must end here as I must go and put the four inky -black kittens to bed in the barn now. Many apologies for not writing more regularly.
Now summer is careening to a close and I am preparing for another transition, a westward move. At the end of August I'm moving to Spokane Washington to be a part of the community and mission of Westminster House. Westminster House is owned by the Westminster Presbyterian church and is located in Spokane's West Central district, a neighborhood that has seen some decline in it's years. It is a neighborhood populated both by families on welfare and more affluent families who have moved to the neighborhood recently to fix up some older houses in the area. Westminster House is described by Sandy Brocoway, Pastor of Westminster Presbyterian as "a beacon of safety for neighborhood children, a place offering Bible study and a place where young adults live while engaging in neighborhood mission." (I got that from an article in "The Fig Tree" which I linked to under "Westminster Presbyterian church") I will be living there with three other young people, who I have never met. Together we will attempt to create this safe haven for local kids, and run after-school programs for the kids. I hope to teach piano lessons as part of my ministry.
I must end here as I must go and put the four inky -black kittens to bed in the barn now. Many apologies for not writing more regularly.
7.05.2005
Preaching
Summer whizzes by alarmingly quickly. The 4th is almost gone and tomorrow begins yet another week of puppeteering, hyperactive kids and more antics from G and G (my two fellow team members)... Oy.
I spent a large chunk of my four-day break preparing sermons. Oh yes!
I gave my second sermon yesterday in church, and despite my apprehensions it was well-received, as was the first sermon, which I gave a week earlier. In fact, I’ll be preaching a third sermon next Sunday and then another at the little Baptist church my aunt attends. (The oldest Ukrainian Baptist church in the United States, incidentally.)
How did this happen? I took a lay speaker training course in April mostly on a last minute whim with a vague idea that taking that course would somehow equip me to help my struggling home church. Never in a million years did I imagine that the pastor would resign suddenly and that I’d be asked to fill in for one..then two...then three Sundays. I feel as if I were launched from a catapult and landed startled and wide-eyed behind a pulpit. And yet, it feels good. It feels right. It’s....FUN!
Even though it consumes my Saturdays, I enjoy creating the bulletin and I enjoy writing the sermons. The first sermon is titled "Freedom through Forgiveness" I recounted the story found in Genesis of Joseph forgiving his twelve brothers who had thrown him into a well and sold him into slavery. Using large rocks to symbolize the weight of grudges and a willing volunteer wearing a backpack, I tried to illustrate that we must forgive one another because God forgave us and forgiveness brings freedom and peace.
The second sermon is titled "Our Daily Bread." I used the story, found in 1 Kings 17 of the widow in Zarephath who shared with the prophet Elijah, the last of her oil and flour. Yet that oil and flour did not run out. The point was that when we trust God to provide for our needs, God can use us to provide for the needs of others. Sermons three and four are still brewing in my head, like good coffee.
I spent a large chunk of my four-day break preparing sermons. Oh yes!
I gave my second sermon yesterday in church, and despite my apprehensions it was well-received, as was the first sermon, which I gave a week earlier. In fact, I’ll be preaching a third sermon next Sunday and then another at the little Baptist church my aunt attends. (The oldest Ukrainian Baptist church in the United States, incidentally.)
How did this happen? I took a lay speaker training course in April mostly on a last minute whim with a vague idea that taking that course would somehow equip me to help my struggling home church. Never in a million years did I imagine that the pastor would resign suddenly and that I’d be asked to fill in for one..then two...then three Sundays. I feel as if I were launched from a catapult and landed startled and wide-eyed behind a pulpit. And yet, it feels good. It feels right. It’s....FUN!
Even though it consumes my Saturdays, I enjoy creating the bulletin and I enjoy writing the sermons. The first sermon is titled "Freedom through Forgiveness" I recounted the story found in Genesis of Joseph forgiving his twelve brothers who had thrown him into a well and sold him into slavery. Using large rocks to symbolize the weight of grudges and a willing volunteer wearing a backpack, I tried to illustrate that we must forgive one another because God forgave us and forgiveness brings freedom and peace.
The second sermon is titled "Our Daily Bread." I used the story, found in 1 Kings 17 of the widow in Zarephath who shared with the prophet Elijah, the last of her oil and flour. Yet that oil and flour did not run out. The point was that when we trust God to provide for our needs, God can use us to provide for the needs of others. Sermons three and four are still brewing in my head, like good coffee.
6.18.2005
Pranks and revenge
I have some pranks and revenge against Glen backlogged from last year. Since I'm the lone female on the team this year I expect I'll have to do my plotting solo. Last year my "henchwomen" and I filled his shoes with water and stringed his room among other things. (childish, yes but fun nonetheless) Since then I've been victim to numerous water-drenchings and various forms of embarassment. I need to find something creative and devious and humorous; some sort of revenge. Does anyone reading this have any suggestions? No suggestion is too outlandish.All ideas are much appreciated.
Waterballoons and sunshine
We did a double ministry this week. From 1:30 to 3:30 we were in "Central ND Town A." Then we drove 15 miles to town B where we had supper, set up the trailler/stage and sound system and led the ministry again from 6:30 until 8:30. Then we drove back to our host families in town A.
I spent most of my day sopping wet. We played water games with the kids at Sidewalk Sonday School today. Fortunately it was sunny and windy; good weather for a water fight.
The first week is always a bit tricky. We're still developing the skits and games that we'll use at SWSS this summer to teach kids various Bible stories. Fortunately both our ministries this week were small towns with few kids. The kids that came were well-behaved for the most part and the adults that came were forgiving of our lack of organization. There is always often one child in a ministry who will prove very challenging. That child in town A was "Riley" (names have been changed), age 5, who would pipe up in the middle of a song or story and say loudly "It's time to do something else now! We should play a game!" Then there was the child in Town B who didn't want to play any group games. He just wanted to pretend he was the Green Goblin from Spiderman.
One of the high points of the week was Glen taking all the kids outside to wheedle a free box of ice-cream treats from the Schwan's man as he made his deliveries next to our ministry site.
Our third team member this year plays guitar also. It's nice to have another guitarist. It also is trickier because I can't just fake my way through songs and learn them as I go (which is what I did last year.)
I spent most of my day sopping wet. We played water games with the kids at Sidewalk Sonday School today. Fortunately it was sunny and windy; good weather for a water fight.
The first week is always a bit tricky. We're still developing the skits and games that we'll use at SWSS this summer to teach kids various Bible stories. Fortunately both our ministries this week were small towns with few kids. The kids that came were well-behaved for the most part and the adults that came were forgiving of our lack of organization. There is always often one child in a ministry who will prove very challenging. That child in town A was "Riley" (names have been changed), age 5, who would pipe up in the middle of a song or story and say loudly "It's time to do something else now! We should play a game!" Then there was the child in Town B who didn't want to play any group games. He just wanted to pretend he was the Green Goblin from Spiderman.
One of the high points of the week was Glen taking all the kids outside to wheedle a free box of ice-cream treats from the Schwan's man as he made his deliveries next to our ministry site.
Our third team member this year plays guitar also. It's nice to have another guitarist. It also is trickier because I can't just fake my way through songs and learn them as I go (which is what I did last year.)
6.13.2005
"They want me to do what?!"
A couple months ago I took a short seminar on lay ministry in the Methodist church. During the course of a Friday evening and most of Saturday we all gave a very brief sermon and learned how to put together a worship service. I've put little thoughtinto sermons since then and I honestly have only attended church once in the past eight weeks or so. (In my defense, service starts at 8:30 a.m.) Now due to sudden unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances my little hometown Methodist church is without a pastor and guess who they want to fill the pulpit? Yup. Yours truly. I have nothing written and only a week to prepare, but it's a good opportunity to hone my public speaking skills aand help my local church so I agreed.
At the same time Sidewalk Sonday School begins tomorrow. Ten solid weeks of tearing around the Dakotas with a trailer painted with rainbows and plastered with decals of scary-looking children. Ten weeks of "Jesus loves me" and Bible stories and strange gray puppets with their eyeballs in their mouth and "Octopus, Octopus, may we cross your ocean?" and cookies and kool-aid (and kids hyped up on cookies and koolaid) and lopsided crafts and prayers for long-deceased grandparents and assorted livestock. Ten weeks of kids having a wonderful time. Last summer I survived everything from vehicle breakdowns to sound system failures to complete and utter mortification at the hands of a coworker. I believe I can handle anything the next ten weeks has to dish out.Bring on the summer!. Bring on the children! And let the games begin!!
At the same time Sidewalk Sonday School begins tomorrow. Ten solid weeks of tearing around the Dakotas with a trailer painted with rainbows and plastered with decals of scary-looking children. Ten weeks of "Jesus loves me" and Bible stories and strange gray puppets with their eyeballs in their mouth and "Octopus, Octopus, may we cross your ocean?" and cookies and kool-aid (and kids hyped up on cookies and koolaid) and lopsided crafts and prayers for long-deceased grandparents and assorted livestock. Ten weeks of kids having a wonderful time. Last summer I survived everything from vehicle breakdowns to sound system failures to complete and utter mortification at the hands of a coworker. I believe I can handle anything the next ten weeks has to dish out.Bring on the summer!. Bring on the children! And let the games begin!!
6.10.2005
Traffic
My foray eastward has ended and we’ve all come out unscathed. My purpose in this venture was three-fold. First , to spend time with a good friend in St. Cloud, second, transport Glen to Benson, MN where he visited one of his many aging, distant relatives (I actually dropped him off in Alexandria) and third, to go to Minneapolis and gain some much needed experience driving on roads with real traffic.
It may seem strange to drive all the way to Minneapolis to get experience driving, however, I learned to drive in the middle of a field and most of my driving has been on flat, straight gravel roads and two-lane highways with little to no traffic. It is quite possible to drive ten or twenty miles and not see another vehicle on the road and I’m often tempted to tie the steering wheel in place with a bit of string, place a brick on the accelerator and indulge in a good book. The roads really are that flat and straight in places!!
My experiences with city traffic have been mostly of sitting white-knuckled and wide-eyed in the passenger seat, bracing my foot against an imaginary brake in the floor board as Mike sailed down the freeway at high speed with traffic on all four sides. Mike was unfazed even by the signs that read “Warning: Aggressive driver high crash area ahead.” Those signs reinforced my conviction that if humans had been intended to travel at such high speed in such close proximity to one another, God would have made us of something much less fragile than flesh and bone. I was terrified of traffic. But sooner or later we must all face our fears, so off I went to Minneapolis.
And how did it go? I'm still alive....and I'll tell more later.
It may seem strange to drive all the way to Minneapolis to get experience driving, however, I learned to drive in the middle of a field and most of my driving has been on flat, straight gravel roads and two-lane highways with little to no traffic. It is quite possible to drive ten or twenty miles and not see another vehicle on the road and I’m often tempted to tie the steering wheel in place with a bit of string, place a brick on the accelerator and indulge in a good book. The roads really are that flat and straight in places!!
My experiences with city traffic have been mostly of sitting white-knuckled and wide-eyed in the passenger seat, bracing my foot against an imaginary brake in the floor board as Mike sailed down the freeway at high speed with traffic on all four sides. Mike was unfazed even by the signs that read “Warning: Aggressive driver high crash area ahead.” Those signs reinforced my conviction that if humans had been intended to travel at such high speed in such close proximity to one another, God would have made us of something much less fragile than flesh and bone. I was terrified of traffic. But sooner or later we must all face our fears, so off I went to Minneapolis.
And how did it go? I'm still alive....and I'll tell more later.
6.06.2005
Road trip!
I left Sunday morning, and drove and drove and drove. Glen came along part way and I dropped him off in Alexandria. This post comes from the campus of St. Cloud State University, where I'm currently visiting a friend. Today's agenda: exploring downtown St. Cloud. Tomorrow? onward to Minneapolis where we hope to take in the Walker Art Center and sculpture garden, Whole Foods Market and other adventures downtown Minneapolis has to offer.
4.15.2005
We need counselors!!
We are still in need of male counselors for the summer camping season here at Camp of the Cross. Do you enjoy working with kids and sharing your faith with them? Would you enjoy living in a scenic natural setting by a lake? How about getting paid to play outside, go swimming, sing songs, worship God outdoors, be in skits and generally just have fun?! We even have a waterslide!!!!! (AND a replica of the Statue of Liberty made out of tin-foil!!)
Honestly, camp counselling can be a ton of work, but it is some of the most rewarding, fun work you'll ever do!! If you would consider being a camp counselor at Camp of the Cross, or if you know someone who would, post a reply, or e-mail me at freespirit_82@hotmail.com or check out the
We especially need guys!!! (And we do take people for only a few weeks of the summer if you're interested but can't work the entire summer.) Give it some thought!
Honestly, camp counselling can be a ton of work, but it is some of the most rewarding, fun work you'll ever do!! If you would consider being a camp counselor at Camp of the Cross, or if you know someone who would, post a reply, or e-mail me at freespirit_82@hotmail.com or check out the
We especially need guys!!! (And we do take people for only a few weeks of the summer if you're interested but can't work the entire summer.) Give it some thought!
The roar of the sea
I stepped out my door into a roaring sound this morning. It took me a moment to realize it was the crash of waves from the lake. The wind is blowing like crazy. The ice melted last weekend and the lake is alive again!! I'd forgotten how much I love the lake until this morning. It's nice to be able to live and work in such a beautiful setting.
Now that the lake has thawed, the camp is coming alive too. The grass is growing greener and new volunteers are popping up everyday!
Now that the lake has thawed, the camp is coming alive too. The grass is growing greener and new volunteers are popping up everyday!
4.13.2005
Fun and games
"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
Thus reads the inscription on the base of the Statue of Liberty. Torch held high, she has proudly stood in New York's harbor for years, greeting weary travellers. Thanks to our efforts at staff night last night there is a tin foil covered mass in the shape of Lady Liberty waiting to greet one of our weary travellers. A staff member here at camp returns from a trip to New York tonight. We spent our staff evening yesterday constructing the Statue of Liberty out of an old plant stand, a pool stick, newspaper, a pair of old coveralls, a sleeping bag, cardboard and lots and lots of tin foil. You could say we constructed her from "the wretched refuse of our teeming shores." It was fun and she is a thing of beauty.
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
Thus reads the inscription on the base of the Statue of Liberty. Torch held high, she has proudly stood in New York's harbor for years, greeting weary travellers. Thanks to our efforts at staff night last night there is a tin foil covered mass in the shape of Lady Liberty waiting to greet one of our weary travellers. A staff member here at camp returns from a trip to New York tonight. We spent our staff evening yesterday constructing the Statue of Liberty out of an old plant stand, a pool stick, newspaper, a pair of old coveralls, a sleeping bag, cardboard and lots and lots of tin foil. You could say we constructed her from "the wretched refuse of our teeming shores." It was fun and she is a thing of beauty.
4.02.2005
"sigh..."
"For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation." - Rainer Maria Rilke
I saw this quote in the "Student Guide to Collegiate Challenge, Habitat for Humanity International" (Collegiate Challenge is one of the best spring break activities I can think of!!! I did it three of the five years of my college career and had a blast.)
Anyway, this quote is extremely relevant this week, not that I can discuss all the reasons why...I wish I could.
I saw this quote in the "Student Guide to Collegiate Challenge, Habitat for Humanity International" (
Anyway, this quote is extremely relevant this week, not that I can discuss all the reasons why...I wish I could.
3.27.2005
Do justice, love mercy....
How true this is!! (in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way) This is an issue I've long struggled with and I think something closer to the truth is found in Micah 6:8 What is God's will? Do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.
3.20.2005
Artistic Creations
Thirty-six ladies stamping and scrapbooking. This weekend our retreat is called "Artistic Creations" -- a weekend for women (and men if they're inclined) to get away from home and stamp cards and bookmarks or work on their scrapbooks while staying in our cozy heated cabins, fellowshipping with friends, enjoying delicious meals and having worship time together around the fireplace in the lodge. They're having a wonderful time. I, however, am exhausted. I spent the day washing mountains of dishes, helping bake breads and stuffing twice-baked potatoes.
3.15.2005
Sidewalk Sonday School
It's the middle of the night and I should be in bed, but I just wanted to say that we FINALLY put together the curriculum for Sidewalk Sonday School. Done, finished, finito!!! Hurrah! Yes, I am going back to the madness of Sidewalk Sonday School once again this summer. Why? The only reason I can come up with is "for the kids". I don't know why but despite the myriad automotive breakdowns, the hilariously lame puppet shows we put on, (and the kids always begged for more!), the sound system that never worked right, the long days we put in and secret tears I shed when no one was looking, my memories of last summer are infused with a sense of peace. It's as if God's hand was covering us every mile from Webster to Grafton, to McClusky to Hot Springs. And so I've chosen to go back. We're learning about Jesus this summer and Glen has promised more wierd and wacky puppet voices. God help us all! (and I know God will.)
2.27.2005
uneasiness
So I'm kinda in charge of leading the worship tomorrow before the Annual meeting. My last post "Pray!" is basically my intro to the summer's theme that I'll give as part of worship....not much for a sermon, but then it's only supposed to be a five to ten minute worship. Throw in a couple songs, a greeting and a blessing, and there you go!!!......ahh who'm I kidding? I'm basically doing this off the cuff...which I know I should not do, but at this point it's a bit late. pray for me!!
2.25.2005
PRAY!
“Lord, teach us to Pray!” These are the words of Jesus‘ twelve disciples in Luke 11. PRAY! That is the theme for our upcoming summer program at Camp of the Cross. As Jesus taught His disciples to pray, we will teach campers that prayer isn’t just something you say before meals. It is both a conversation with God and time for reflection. It is a journey and a way of life. Through exciting skits, games, fun activities and discussions campers will learn about different aspects of prayer: praising God joyfully and thanking God for all our gifts, asking God for our needs, persisting when its seems like there’s no answer and most importantly listening to what God has to say to us.
2.23.2005
like a river
I'm feeling somewhat more peaceful lately. I'm not sure why because I'm still buried under a mountain of projects that I really don't know how to do and more appear every day. Maybe it's prayer, or maybe it's mercy. It's grace. Whatever it is, there's a voice at my core whispering "It's alright. It's going to be okay."
2.21.2005
quilts and questions
My apologies to those of you who read this. It's been awhile, I know. But if you were wondering, yes, I am still alive. I survived my first retreat without Amy and Carrie. Forty women were here quilting from Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon. Every table in the camp was covered with fabric, and sewing machines whirred and hummed day and night. They made some beautiful quilts...but still, I have a hard time seeing the point in cutting apart fabric just to sew it back together and cut it apart and sew it together again. I appreciate that they do it...but I probably won't ever be a quilter.
2.17.2005
Chocolate Fantasy
Even though Valentine's Day is already past, I thought I'd share this story which took place about three years ago. The YWCA hosts an annual "Chocolate Fantasy" Valentines Day buffet. For around $7.50 you can gorge yourself on a buffet of bon-bons, brownies, cupcakes, cookies and other goodies. There is also a contest where people bring in their chocolate creations to be judged by a panel of prestigious community members. The mayor, for example, is often asked tojudge. One year Glen and I decided to attend this event. However, instead of paying the $7.50, we showed up early, walked confidently in the door and announced "Hello we're here to judge." Not one person questioned us! They simply handed us judging sheets and directed us to a table filled with goodies. We tasted them all and chose our favorites. Hey, my tastebud work just as well as the mayors! We judged the annual Chocolate Fantasy Chocolate bake off AND got our pictures taken with the mayor AND got as much chocolate as we wanted for free!!!
1.30.2005
another lazy Sunday
The quilter's guild has finished their weekend of fun and fabric here at Camp of the Cross. The Women's Weekend Away, where women came to be pampered and relax is also over and it's Sunday again. Time to relax, renew, refresh, restore. And start all over with another busy week!!
1.23.2005
sliding in the mud of self doubt
Funny that I live in a place intended to foster community and yet I just want to hide in a corner with a book. My introverted tendencies seem to get stronger by the day. The rest of the staff here is burned out, down to core. This is a retreat center, yet where does the staff go when they need to get away? They need to retreat from retreating. I'm the fresh new face on staff. I should be the glue that holds us all together, the community builder and peace maker for a community designed to help people build relationships. I should be picking up the slack and helping the overburdened carry their weight. And yet I'm screwing up at every turn. My pitiful attempt at community building failled miserably. You see, this community is in transition and as with any transition there are a few bumps along the way. I should be good at transitioning by now. Afterall I've been in transition for roughly a year. It was just over a year ago that I buried all my neatly laid plans and a silver engagement ring beneath a rock somewhere in the wide open empties of Montana. I stood on that hilltop on that windy January day, arms outstretched, I could see forever and I was so sure I was going to fly. But on the way back down to solid ground I slid and fell in the slippery Montana clay. I washed those jeans but the mud of self-doubt is harder to wash away. I've been trying to fly ever since, but that mud is just weighing me down.
1.15.2005
...and I've never been to Boston in the fall!!
The title of my post has absolutely nothing to do with anything, it just happens to be what's stuck in my head at the moment. That's because I convinced Carrie and Amy, my cohorts here at Camp of the Cross that we should undertake the mission of becoming "Pirates that do Something!!" They were pretty excited about it. We're all easily amused and due to the sub-arctic temperatures here, most of the retreats scheduled for this weekend were called off. There hasn't been much happening out here by the lake. However I have accomplished a few odds and ends the past few days, such as cleaning and inventorying the Canteen and cleaning the Craft Shack. We've been doing a little woodworking too. Larry and Pauline moved a house onto the property and will be moving into that, so Amy and Carrie are moving into Larry and Pauline's old house, but first we're refinishing the doors and woodwork.
1.13.2005
one down, a million to go
Well, I did it. I just e-mailled an application to the Urban Servant Corps to Rev. Barb Martens. Maybe I'll be accepted maybe I won't. I guess we'll see.
1.12.2005
sometimes ya just gotta go camping
I can now say I've been camping in January...even if it was in a tent in Matt's basement. But hey, there weren't any mosquitoes and we didn't even need to put the rain fly up. And now I guess I sort of am camping, or actually just living and working at a camp. My first day of "work" included cleaning cabins, attending Joshua Crowder's first birthday party and creating, um.."potato art" on a wall of Larry and Pauline's house. There's a line in "We are the Pirates that don't do Anything", a Veggie Tales song, that goes "..and I've never thrown my mashed potatoes up against a wall!"
Well, that line no longer rings true for me. Now I just have to paint some daisies on a big red rubber ball, lick a spark plug, sniff a stink bug and go to Boston in the fall and I'll be well on my way to be being a Pirate that does stuff!! Anyway, there's plenty to do here at the camp. We have four different retreat groups this weekend. I'm in charge of finding games, stories, lessons, songs, etc to keep a group of various aged youth occupied for an hour and a half next weekend and later on this winter I get to organize a retreat for returning National Guard members and their families!! Busy busy busy busy busy.
Well, that line no longer rings true for me. Now I just have to paint some daisies on a big red rubber ball, lick a spark plug, sniff a stink bug and go to Boston in the fall and I'll be well on my way to be being a Pirate that does stuff!! Anyway, there's plenty to do here at the camp. We have four different retreat groups this weekend. I'm in charge of finding games, stories, lessons, songs, etc to keep a group of various aged youth occupied for an hour and a half next weekend and later on this winter I get to organize a retreat for returning National Guard members and their families!! Busy busy busy busy busy.
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