rant

I am counting hours.
Before Christmas I fell into a decent seasonal job at a local outwear and outdoor equipment company. I signed on as a call center representative after Christmas. The pay sucks but the employee gear discount is sweet. Then I realized how the corporate world works. I realized how much all the other employees dislike working here. I walked into REI the other day and realized how friendly the employees are and how nice the store is.
I could have continued at this job, but I didn't know a lot about myself and I didn't take the time to learn more about the company and those around me, so I huffily quit under the guise that I would spend more time searching for piano students.

musings

There is something wonderful about clicking the "create" button. What will I create with the clicking of these keys? Will it be worth reading? Will it somehow inform or brighten your day?
I believe in the idea that if I'm taking the time to write something for you, it should be something that will be worth your time to read. I have not always lived up to this idea. Hopefully my ranting about work is at least entertaining, but it is not necessary for you to know the frustrations of trying to please customers who simply cannot be pleased. We live in a society of instant gratification. Sometimes we must just deal with what life dishes out.

Surely you're joking.......

• Fed-ex delivered the package to your NEIGHBOR? Was the driver dyslexic that day?
• Your customer service has REALLY been THAT HORRIBLE? I mean, we get a bit touchy sometimes, but we do try to be polite.
• oh good! you liked the gloves...and you're ordering two more pair? That's not a joke, that's a person I like.
• YOUR dog chewed through your watchband and you're being irritable with ME?! Train your dog!! You expect free expedited shipping? Get over it.

wedding bel.....er.., bagpipes

There was a wedding on Saturday the 11th of February. It involved two of my cousins, my aunt, my uncle and myself, various other people, including my mother, my boyfriend, a lovely social worker from El Salvador, a softball player who made the wedding cake and a photographer from TBN who happened to be a first cousin of the bride. The wedding ceremony itself included a bagpipe, organ and snare drum processional, an operatic bass solo sung by the father of the bride and an oboe solo by her sister. The ceremony ended with a blessing of the couple done by the someone from First Presbyterian in Mendocino, California. He blessed the couples' eyes, ears, mouths, hearts and finished by kneeling on the steps of the dais in front of over 300 people and blessed the couples feet.

The Secret

Every superhero needs a good secret weapon. I'm no superhero, but the closest thing I have to a hero or a weapon is my mother. Here's why:

After earning a degree in biology from Minot State University my mother joined the Peace Corps. She was sent to Ethiopia where she spent two years teaching science in a school in the village of Hosanna, near Addis Ababba. (accent on both first syllables please.) She returned home, experienced culture shock and chose to return to Ethiopia. Unfortunately the Peace Corps program in Ethiopia had disbanded due to unrest in the country. She went to the headmaster of her school in Hosanna and asked for a job. He accepted her back and she spent the next two years there teaching as an independent person living in the Ethiopian culture. When she returned she'd been changed physically and emotionally. This was in the early seventies.
She married my father in June of 1977. I was born in 1982. We lived on a small farm in Central North Dakota. If you look at a map of the US you will see that this is the middle, of the middle, of the middle of nowhere. There is nowhere else on the North American continent that is farther from a major city. Dallas, Seattle, LA and New York City are all on the coasts of our continent. This is the center.
After my mother's experiences in Ethiopia she was somewhat committed to raising her child in such a way that if that child ever became a missionary to a third world country, she would not deal with culture shock. We had an automatic washer and dryer for awhile. Then mom donated them to HavIt, an organization in a nearby small town that provided housing and work for the developmentally challenged.
I know how to wash clothes using an old-fashioned wringer washer. Should you ever wonder how, I will tell you. I will also describe the experience of a 5-year-old who accidentally sticks her little fingers through the wringer with the clothes.
Part of the reason she donated the automatic washer and dryer was that we have iron rich well water on our farm. Our clothes received rust stains. We didn't install a shower until I was in junior high. I developed a rusty sheen on my hair after this installment. It was about this time that she purchased a microwave from the nearby thrift store. She also purchased a new color tv and a vcr. I'd grown up with used black and white televisions that only really got CBS and PBS.
This was also when I first got heat in my upstairs room. Dad got an electric baseboard heater from the local electric company and strung wires up through the wall to put electric heat in my room. Up to this point I'd gotten by with an electric blanket. The temperature drops to negative 30 degrees outdoors in the winter. The average temperature in my room in January without heat was around 50 degrees.

This is how I grew up. This is my life. Please understand and please do not think I was abused in any way. I always knew that my parents loved me. This was the life that they CHOSE.

Books have always had the utmost importance in our family and the walls of my parents home are covered with books still. We did not talk much as we spent winters together in our farm house. We simply curled up with a book and a cat, each in our own seperate room of the house. The wind howled outside and the blizzards raged. And I lost myself somewhere in a book.

random thoughts

Sherman Alexie is from the Spokane area. He's the author of "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven" which is the book that the movie Smoke Signals is based upon. Jim Boyd is also a local, I think. There is a music store here that sells his music. (He is a Native American folk singer.) Smoke Signals has some scenes that were shot here. Also, the movie Bennie and Joon was shot in Peaceful Valley, which is a small neighborhood near the river and under the Maple Street Bridge.

(I tried riding my bike across the Maple Street Bridge at around 8:30 p.m. one evening this past fall. The pedestrian lane is basically a fenced "tunnel" that is suspended over the river next two four lanes of traffic. Halfway across I came across a small bicycle that someone had removed the seat from and left on the concrete walkway. "Why is that there?" I thought. Had someone been accosted and had their bicycle wrecked? THAT was when I looked around and realized I was trapped in a tunnel with no way out and if someone should try to stop me or harm me I was trapped. To my right was a street with traffic and to my left was hundreds of feet of empty space with a swift moving river below. And I couldn't go either direction anyway because there was a chainlink fence on either side of and above me. That was when I started peddling as hard as I could. I shot out of the bridge tunnel, peddled up a small hill and recognized a transient person sitting listening to a radio in the shelter of another bridge. I was out of breath but his presence startled me again and I peddled harder. When I reached Jon's apartment I was breathless and a bit sheepish. I now ride my bike mainly in the daylight, and NEVER across the Maple Street Bridge.)

Monday again

There are days when you pray "Lord, just give me strength."
Today is one of them. This was one of the more amazing and draining weekends of my life. One amazingly beautiful wedding, combined with a horrid cold, my mother being in town and my boyfriend giving two really really great presentations on his trip to Colombia.
We thought the stress was over. Then Sunday evening he checked his e-mail and found this. Pray for Mauricio and Gilberto. If you're activism minded please e-mail me or leave a note in the comments section.

"Do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, for as long as ever you can."

I think that is roughly similar to something some great Christian thinker once said. I've forgotten who.

Life as a Lackey

I want a "smite" button on my keyboard. No fair.
Those of you who are Far Side fans know that only God gets a "smite" button. Oh well.
Why does Dale want Stratos Gloves? Who is Dale anyway? Does he really exist or did someone make up all these test orders?
Why do I have to take up precious brain space with things like the function of the F4 key?
Will I get in trouble for blogging at work?
I should behave.

This is good.

I have an amazing boyfriend.
And good friends
and a job.
And I'm "employed" by a good ministry and live with good people.

This is good.

oh yeah. My family is pretty nice too. They support me.

Just another Manic Monday

I'm sitting at my new "job" waiting to be trained. If they fire me, I may rejoice but in the meantime it's decent money and means I can get really cool outdoor clothing and gear at a reduced price. My day and my week are looking insanely busy, but I can deal with that. I did survive five years of college and campus ministry involvement. And somehow I worked at least an hour of piano practice into 5 out of 7 of my weekdays during my last two years of college. I can handle this too.
But what is their deal? I am being paid to sit here and wait for other people so they can "train" me. (I am not a dog.)
Nevermind the fact that I actually worked here for two weeks during the Christmas season. But I was working random seasonal work then.

community

I like living alone.
I miss the prairie.
stupid community building.
I hate talking to people.
wah wah wah poor me.

hmmmm....

The frustrating thing about having goals and dreams (like an afterschool progam) is that you have to stay put awhile to accomplish them. If I go through with this I'll have to do all my wandering in my head for awhile.

art and music as healing

I have this bizarre notion that perhaps my purpose here is to bring arts and music to the kids of West Central. I started by teaching piano lessons, but I really only have two students, and they are from families that can afford a piano teacher. The ones I want to teach are the kids next door who's mother could never afford it. I have this dream that this will all expand into some sort of art's-centered after school and summer program here. Kids need something creative and contructive to do to occupy their time.
The fine arts can be incredibly healing. Blues musicians deal with feelings of sadness and depression by writing songs. German expressionist painters dealt with the emotional landscape of their time and country by painting strong broad strokes with intense screaming deep colors. A scream of anguish in a painting, so to speak.
I can think of no better way for children to deal with the fact that mom and dad beat them. Or that mom and dad can't afford to pay the rent and the whole family will have to move. If mom and dad can't pay rent, they sure as hell can't afford a child therapist.
I don't know what I'm doing at all. But I have a few tools to start with. I have a collection of keyboards. I have the internet. I have piano training and teaching materials. I have a basic knowledge of crafts and some basic drawing skills. I am surrounded by people who care about children and West Central. I know a woman who is studying children and art therapy, or something similar. And I give a damn about these kids.
Most of all I can do what I really know how to do. Pray...and keep walking.

Introducing a Stranger

If you look to the right of the page you'll see that I have added Kristin to my list of friends' blogs. Unlike all the other blogs listed there Kristin is someone I have never actually met. I discovered her blog last winter when, due to a lack of contact with my peers I spent hours a day reading people's blogs and surfing the internet. I had surfed over to Jessica's blog and was randomly clicking on HER list of blog friends when I discovered Debaucherous and Dishevelled. I was intrigued by the writing style and she was talking about her soon-to-be-born baby. I kept coming back because I wanted to see the promised pictures of this new little human. Her writing style continued to entertain me. A year later, I still wander over to her blog, only now there are regular pictures of the baby and the dog.

Strong Women

• Strong women race Arabian horses into strong North Dakota winds.
• Strong women wash their laundry with old-fashioned wringer washers because they gave the automatic washer and dryer to charity.
• Strong women spend a couple hours after school in the field hauling rocks by hand with their mother.
• Strong women travel half-way across the country in small cars and sleep by the side of the road because they don't want to pay for a motel.
• Strong women haul small square bales through 3 foot snow drifts in sub-zero temperatures with a homemade toboggan so the cattle and horses will have a warm place to sleep.
• Strong women go out and pitch hay to the horse when the wind chill factor is negtive 60 degrees.
• Strong women respect the people around them and do not use them.
• Strong women dig most of a quarter mile of potatoes on their own, then haul them into the yard with the pickup and wash them with the garden hose on the lawn.
• Strong women get up at 6:00 a.m. to walk three miles before work.
• Strong women survive child abuse, divorce, depression, thyroid disease, multiple sclerosis and much more and still live "normal" productive lives.
• Strong women care for their aging parents in their homes.
• Strong women care for other people's ageing parents as well.
• Strong women journal as a form of therapy.
• Strong women learn to bite their tongue rather than using it as a weapon.

tirade

I used to be enraged by men who disrespected and used women. Now I'm disgusted by women who use men. Have I been guilty of that?

I used to despise Walmart and refuse to shop there. Now I realize that they are simply one of many capitalist corporations screwing over the little guys to make a profit. But refusing to shop at Walmart while living surrounded by people who shop there because they can't afford to shop elsewhere would be utterly hypocritical. Especially when I grew up surrounded by people who shop at Wal-mart because they couldn't afford to shop elsewhere.
I believe in supporting local businesses, but I will occasionally spend a dollar or two at Walmart simply so I can say "I understand" to the girls next door. The third grader said to me the other day, "I know Wal-mart is bad for the world, but when your family is like ours, sometimes you have to shop there."
Her mother is 25 and she and her husband are supporting two girls of their own, plus her sisters two children. I no longer have any patience for those whe "refuse to set foot in Wal-mart" yet are not in solidarity with the poor either. That is hypocrisy. I'm sure I've been guilty of hypocrisy myself many time.

My father actually DEFENDED Archer Daniels Midland corporation on the phone the other day. He pointed out that they are simply another capitalism driven corporation that makes a profit by screwing over the poor farmer and that is simply the way this country works. Yes, but my father IS the poor farmer who is being screwed over by ADM.

I want to crawl in a hole, or run and hide in the jungle, but that will never accomplish anything.
I believe it was Gandhi, or maybe someone else who said "We must BE the change we wish to see in the world."

and now, a word from our sponsor

"One of the many advantages of being cool like me, is that you don't get eaten by cannibals!!"
-Brak,
Space Ghost, Coast to Coast

Wanderlust revisited

January is the month of "what if's?" and "what next's?" It seems that every day I learn something new and the world becomes a little broader. Even my little car now feels too small for me. So....what next?
My stint with the Westminster House is over at the end of August 2006. I now have a boyfriend in the mix and I'd rather not spend copious amounts of time far away from him, but I don't want to feel as if I'm trapped in the city of Spokane either.
What next?
Short term staff at Holden Village again?
Another trip to Europe?
Volunteer ministry at The Shelter, a youth hostel in the center of Amsterdam's Red Light District?
Move back to North Dakota for a few weeks?
Bum around, come and go and be ever on the move?
When does Wanderlust end? When does one settle down? And where does one settle down?

I have a magnet that I bought at an art shop in Taos, NM. It has a photo of a rusted VW beetle and it says "If you can't find it where you're at, where will you wander to find it?"

This has always been my moto.

24

If 24 continues as it started it will be much much better than 23 was. Not that 2005 was a horrible year for me, seeing as how the last four months of it involved starting life in a new city, meeting a really great person and falling in love with that person. But 2005 also involved enduring a stressful children's ministry and even more stressful "servant staff" position at a Lutheran Bible camp and retreat center. I began 2005 feeling enormously depressed. I was depressed to the point where I hated getting out of bed in the mornings and didn't want to speak to any human being because I was convinced I had nothing of value to say to anyone. My body showed physical symptoms of this as well, but I was in central North Dakota, had little money and didn't know who to talk to.

Since I've moved away, I've found people who seem to value me as a human simply because I exist and I started talking with someone who has a PhD in psychology. I've also recently discovered that bearing the weight of that much stress can quite literally destroy your back. I've started intensive therapy sessions with a chiropractor here in town. Hopefully three daily therapy sessions with head and shoulder weights and cervical traction will strenghthen my spine and restore my back and neck to their natural function. (All those time I fell off of my horse didn't do much for my neck either.)

All this to simply say that age 24 is starting off with much more hope than 23 did. Last but not least was my birthday itself. I did my daily therapy session, got some financial help from my mother, and took myself downtown to find a nice outfit. I only intended to get a skirt, but I fell victim to a really nice sales clerk and a clearance rack at Macy's. When I left I was outfitted top to bottom, shoes and jewelry included. Then Jon took me to Mizuna's for supper and it was wonderful. We watched a movie together and I ended the day at home watching The Constant Gardner and crocheting with my housemate and her boyfriend. And then I did my therapy before bed.

True Peace

But the wisdom that comes from Heaven is first of all pure, then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness.

James 3:17 (NIV)

17But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure. It is also peace loving, gentle at all times, and willing to yield to others. It is full of mercy and good deeds. It shows no partiality and is always sincere. 18And those who are peacemakers will plant seeds of peace and reap a harvest of goodness.

James 3:17 (New Living Translation)

James 1

Be doers, not hearers. Be quick to listen and slow to speak. James knew what he was talking about.

January

I'm really glad that Jon is back. It was good to see him at the airport on Saturday night. This is the main little flame flickering in my current January dark. Of my three piano students, one has decided she is too busy for lessons and other can't take lessons this month. This leaves me with decidedly less income with which to pay some impending doctor fees. crap. Therefore the job search is back on again. In the meantime I've been hanging around the house due to the cloudy weather and my lack of finances. (And lack of boyfriend being in town. I'm really glad he got to go learn about how God is at work in Colombia though.) Hanging around the house has not been all bad. Here's why:

• I've started refinishing a five-drawer dresser. I'm an eighth of the way finished removing the paint from the first drawer. No, maybe I'm a tenth of the way finished.
• I'm currently in the middle of three crochet projects. One is a scarf, another a belt and the third is some sort of rug or something I'm making from plastic grocery bags cut into strips.
• I cut an old pair of jeans into triangles and I'm learning how to quilt....by hand.
  

wow

The school where I went from Kindergarten to Grade 11 has a website.

Urban Survivor

Take four intelligent capable post-graduate people. Put them all together in a house in the poorest neighborhood of a city. Make them live in community and work together. Watch them grow into young adults, each committed to a relationship. Will they actually spend time together? Will they flip out and want to kill each other? Will someone be voted out of the house? Only Ellie and Howard truly know the answers, and they're respectively feline and aquatic. Ellie meows occasionally. Howard just hides under the leaves of his fake water lily. They ain't talkin' that's for sure.

New Year

So I've learned a few things.

• I'm compulsive. If I have to compulsive about something, I choose to be compulsive about buying things that are healthy for me.
• Working out at Curves is a good way to get in shape and enjoy the company of other women
• Not all men can be trusted. Some of them will try to stalk you for six years.
• My last name is NOT Frankhauser and I choose to live my own life.
  
• I have a tendency to build resentments.
• I want to destroy any man who I ever see hurting a woman or hurting me.
  
• I dislike control
  

Beauty in the Breakdown

I just finished watching Garden State. Yes, there is Beauty in the Breakdown. Go watch the movie and live your life.

Those who grow...

Perhaps True Love means that those who can be irreverent must learn to become more reverant.
I only know that January is the month for hibernation.
January is the month when growing things rest quietly.
To that end, I'm putting my blog to bed for awhile.
Rest well.
Sleep easy.
I'll catch y'all on the flip side.

another poem

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

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.

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.

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.)

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."

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!!!

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."

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.)
  

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!!!

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.

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.

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!

hmmm...

www.ptsem.edu

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."

Piano recital

Alycia took this photo at my senior piano recital in April 2004.

Photos

This photo was taken on a hike with my uncle, about an hour from Spokane.

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!!

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.

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.

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:

1. Take a terrycloth washcloth and hold it under warm water until it is warm and moist.
2. Hold the warm, moist washcloth against your lips for several seconds. This softens the dry, chapped skin clinging to your lips.
3. Use the washcloth to buff the chapped outer layer of skin off of your lips.
4. Pat dry and apply a moisturizing lip balm liberally. I recommend Chapstick, or Burt's Bees Beeswax Lip Balm.
5. 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.

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.

Cyber Hymnal

An Online Cyber Hymnal with words to any hymn you can possibly imagine.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

Steph has a boyfriend.

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...........

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.

Picture from Alycia's wedding

Here it is folks, the a picture from Alycia's wedding....

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!!

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)

1. Tetonwan - "Dwellers on the Plains"
   
2. Yanktonais -"Ihanktonwana" or "Little Dwellers at the End"
   
3. Yankton - "Ihanktonwan or Dwellers at the End"
   
4. Mdewakantonwan - "Spirit Lake People" (but not necessarily the people who live on the Spirit Lake Reservation)
   
5. Wahpekute - "Shooters Among the Leaves"
   
6. Wahpetonwan - "Dwellers Among the Leaves"
   
7. 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.

1. Oglala (The people on Pine Ridge...I think)
   
2. Hunkpapa
   
3. Minicoujou
   
4. Brule (the people of the Burnt Thigh)
   
5. Sansarc (French word meaning "Without bows")
   
6. Blackfoot (NOT the same as the "Blackfeet" which live in Montana)
   
7. 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.

"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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:

• 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

Community Radio Rocks!!

This is my new favorite radio station.

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.

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

busy

Still here, still looking for a job, don't have internet, the library's closing, that's all. But I feel optimistic.

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.

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.

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.

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.