Conversation: Just a Bit

Jackie: I like how this veggie recipe calls for bacon.

Alex: [opens fridge, his ankle pops] oh. I popped my ankle.

James: These chairs are weird.

Shellie: Don't insult my mom's chairs.

James: If you were wearing the chair, I'd probably make fun of you, too.

Shellie: That's not nice.

Alex: Well, at least we make fun of people to their face.

Jackie: What's a souffle? What's it look like? ooh! Bacon Spoon Bread!

Here's that recipe. Interesting.

3/4 c corn mean

1 1/2 cups cold water

8 ounces cheddar cheese, coarsely grated

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1/4 c margarine

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp chopped parsley

1 c milk

4 egg yolks, beaten

1/2 pound bacon, fried, crispy!!!

4 egg whites, stiffly beaten

Mix corn meal and water to the consistency of mush. Yes. Mush. Add cheese, garlic, margarine, salt and parsley. Stir to melt cheese. Add milk and egg yolks. Crumble bacon and add. Fold in egg whites. Pour into greased 2 quart souffle dish. Bake at 325 for 65 minutes. Serves 6.

Attributed to Mrs. John S. McIntyre, Jr. of the Junior League of Jackon, MS

& then afterwards...

there was sleep. and an awakening. and soon there will be sleep again.

afterwards... a silence. But all around it, an awareness of the glory of the Lord. And that's all the comfort I can offer right now. An assurance of my own in Him... the promise of yours to come...

a gentle. its time. when it is.

Dear Sir

Dear Matthew Palfenier, I happened to glance your name on the hood of your jacket as you sat one chair ahead of me in the computer lab moments ago. I only wanted to say, your cherry-wood courderoy pants are genuinely wonderful. Thank you.

Blue Betties of Poplar Blvd.

I may have sprouted some blue hairs today. My dear friend Jackie and I played "old ladies" today by listening to classical music on vinyl, cooking (three homemade meals), volunteering to keep a baby (which we made noises at), telling stories, and playing with our cat. Thirty minutes ago, we turned at each other and decided we needed some fresh air.

Tuesday, Early Afternoon.

I played a little ditty while a little boy played walrus dentist with two silver pick-up-sticks. The wire-haired beast's teeth were in bad shape, I suppose. A grandmother was reading files and thought about her granddaughter's book report being unfinished. She dialed eleven numbers from memory and asked to speak to me. Ditty ended, I answered. "Yes", I said, I would help her read Cam Jansen and the Mystery of the Missing Dinosaur Bones. And spell check her paragraphs. Little boy wanted to know who that was. They don't like to think they aren't most important. None of us do. We are going to put the fifty United States of America together to make up for my disloyalty.

I have to say, it's just a way to steal tomorrow.

It is a happy Sabbath. I sat and sipped coffee with my mom over conversation. Our morning conversations are seemingly reversed. We don't speak over coffee. We drink it with a few utterances thrown out into the air. The coffee is our priority and our comfort as we try to build the momentum to thrust ourselves into the day. The beauty of a Sunday is that it was made for rest, and we don't have to build up that momentum as quickly...or at all. I am cherishing the memory of this morning. It is my last Sunday morning with my family for a while.

It is strange to want to be two somewheres at the same time.

I believe people spend a lot of their lives in this state, and I am discontent knowing that I am not grateful to be just where I am all of the time. I want to be able to make merry wherever I am without the underlying longing to be elsewhere. I experienced this to a great degree while in Arkansas last week. Part of my longing to be elsewhere was due to the fact that I was missing my dad's birthday for the fourth year in a row. But there was something deeper there (something that I can't quite explain), pulling me out of the environment that I was in. I was frustrated and a bit confused to know that even though I wanted to be fully and wholeheartedly where I was, I was being drawn by some other desire. Some anxious desire deep within me. It is sometimes very difficult for me to discern God's will for my daily life. Sitting in the kitchen, having a glass of water at 2 a.m. in a house on the banks of Lake Hamilton, I contemplated whether I was being rebellious in my distraction or whether my insatiable desire to be elsewhere, overwhelming my desire to make the most of my placement, was just God preparing me or communicating to me about the days shortly to come.

In retrospect, I've found comfort in this: God has called me to love. And I showed the best love that I could last week. My own thoughts and desires could have taken away from that, but I tried very earnestly not to let them. Perhaps that counts for something.

Now, there are times for contemplation. And that is a blessing. That is something else that became a tangible reality for me last week. I suppose I've been talking of contemplation the whole while, but this is a different contemplation than the contemplation of placement and contentment in that placement. This is the contemplation of objects.

There was a sort of designated nap time throughout the house last week. That was something that I thought that I would cherish about each day. I was very often tired by noon and could easily have gone to sleep. But everyday, after everyone else was asleep, I was lying there, having the hardest time dozing off. I never have this problem. Every afternoon, while the house was asleep, I was up, having Emily time. I read scripture, listenened to music, drew, collected and studied things, and caught up on details of the lives of others, far away. Instead of feeling exhausted for not having taken a nap, I felt rejuvenated and ready to spend the afternoon "sitting on babies" as a friend calls it. I was blessed by that two hour contemplation period. My life constant is that I am very often blessed by contemplation...

Here is a song list for your contemplation:

- "I'll Be Your Lover, Too" by Van Morrison

-"Ballrooms of Mars" by T. Rex

-"Buckets of Rain" and "North Country Girl" by Bob Dylan

-"Steal Tomorrow" by The Tallest Man on Earth

-"Moonlight Mile" by The Rolling Stones

Pulled Taut

I have feet sewn to winding roads. I think if you can picture this, you may see someone waving arms wildly to maintain balance. That, or someone trying extremely hard to move forward, like a mouse with someone standing on its tail. I feel that these both describe me at times. It's normal. But I'd like to take some shears to these binding stitches.

It's frustrating to know that everyone feels what I believe I am describing as discontent. It's even more disheartening to know that I don't have a reason to be discontent. My life is a good one and I enjoy it. There shouldn't be underlying anything but joy. This is a terrible curse. Good God, can't you come on?