Friday, March 29, 2013

ode to the muggliest of muggles

It's sad, sad day indeed for HP fans. The actor portraying the uncle we all loved to hate has passed away. Richard Griffiths played Vernon Dursley to a T. So perfect, so horribly mean. And so in memory of his passing, let's recap a few of the best Uncle Vernon moments.

+ Uncle Vernon being so hell-bent on Harry not receiving his Hogwarts acceptance letter that he gets a little crazy toting the family all over England trying to lose their trail so the owls can't find them. Eventually ends up in the middle of nowhere (seriously) & is miffed when Hagrid still shows up with an envelope addressed to a Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. & who can forget when Hagrid gave Dudley a pig tail when Uncle Vernon called Dumbledore a "crackpot old fool" who would teach Harry magic tricks? Such a gleeful moment.

+ The time that Harry neglected to tell the Dursleys that he couldn't do magic outside of school & Dobby dropped a giant pudding on Vernon's prospective big fish-client's wife.... resulting in a reprimand via owl. Uncle Vernon was none too pleased about that & locked Harry up (bars on the windows & everything) for what would have been life had it not been for the Weasley boys and their flying car. Oh, and Vernon & the gang tried to pull Harry back through the window & failed {The look on their faces must have been priceless...}.

+ Harry's somewhat accidental, somewhat totally intentional balloon blow-up of Vernon's sister Marge after she insulted the heck out of Harry's parents {quite a temper that one}. Such a satisfying scene...

+ When Uncle Vernon was sent a letter saying he was nominated for maintaining a perfect lawn... except it was a fake & a cover for Harry to be picked up by the Order. Bet Uncle V wasn't a happy camper on the way home...

+ When Dumbledore's surprise visit to the Dursleys started with this exchange:


"I don't mean to be rude --" Uncle Vernon began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every syllable.
"-- yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often," Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely. "Best to say nothing at all, my dear man."
- HP & the Half Blood Prince

+ And as a parting note, when the Dursleys are going into hiding {from Voldemort}, Harry & Uncle Vernon exchange a particularly touching goodbye:

"Perhaps we should wait outside in the hall, Dedalus," murmured Hestia. She clearly felt that it would be tactless for them to remain in the room while Harry and the Dursleys exchanged loving, possibly tearful farewells.
"There's no need," Harry muttered, but Uncle Vernon made any further explanation unnecessary by saying loudly,
"Well, this is good-bye then, boy."
He swung his right arm upward to shake Harry's hand, but at the last moment seemed unable to face it, and merely closed his fist and began swinging it backward and forward like a metronome."
-HP & the Deathly Hallows


Farewell our muggle friend. Thank you for all your comedic wit, & allowing us HP fans to love you by hating your character. 

sweet cornbread muffins

What do you do when you're craving Founding Farmers' skillet cornbread but not their usual hour-wait time? Make your own. Sadly, the Founding Farmers cookbook doesn't come out until this fall (& you better believe I'll be owning a copy of that), so I had to make do with finding another. 

While not as wonderful as the buttery, sweet goodness you get at FF (complete with homemade honey butter... yum), this recipe was surprisingly good (after tweaking its ingredients a bit). I recommend it for any of you that prefer sweet cornbread over regular, & though I tend to want the latter, even I was reaching for this cornbread as a snack from the refrigerator...

There was one more muffin, buuuut husmate got ahold of it before I could snap the picture, claiming it would look better without that muffin.
 Nice cover there, dear.

Sweet Cornbread Muffins

|| Ingredients ||

1/2 c. butter, softened
1/2 c. sugar
1/8 c. honey
2 eggs
1/2 t. salt
1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 (or a little extra) c. cornmeal
1/2 t. baking powder
2/3 c. milk
3/4 c. frozen/canned corn kernels, thawed (canned would be better but we've made it with frozen corn from Trader Joe's and it tasted fine)


|| Directions ||

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease or line 12-18 muffin cups. In a large bowl, cream together butter, sugar, honey, eggs, & salt (cream 4-5 minutes). Mix in flour, cornmeal, & baking powder; blend thoroughly. Stir in milk & corn. Pour batter into muffin cups (2/3 full). Bake in preheated oven for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean. 


If you have any yummy recipes you want to share please do! 

Thursday, March 28, 2013

meet our third renter

Lo and behold, I look down from my computer late last night and see the mysterious creature (as usual husmate is asleep). And you guys, I had quite the internal battle of wanting to scream and sighing with relief after finally discovering what the creature was. Thankfully for husmate's sake, I chose the quieter of the two & he continued to sleep on through my dilemma. Let me give you a bio to see if you can guess why:


+ Length: 4-5", tail included

+ Number of legs: 4

+ Color: Greyish-brown

+ Reptile, insect or mammal: mammal

+ Other distinguishing features: whiskers, a short pointy nose, two little ears, quick as lightning, extremely shy

+ Cultural references that make him seem more cuddly than bully: Ratatouille, Mouse Trap, Stuart Little, Tom & Jerry, Mickey Mouse, Mighty Mouse, Speedy Gonzalez...


Yep, our third renter isn't a lizard....... it's a mouse.

The funny thing is I've been joking with husmate the last few weeks about getting a kitten. Maybe we can get a kitten to hunt the mouse?!? Yeah, I doubt it. Also, my periphery vision is now hypersensitive and has caused me to have little mini heart attacks when I see the tiniest movements caused by things like my hair & my movements being reflected in a mirrored side table... This mouse is going to test the barriers of my sanity. 




* for those of you who might have possibly thought this was a weird way to announce we're having a baby, we're not. We're being held captive by a mouse. That is overwhelming enough. 

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

a petition of clemency


Since moving to Old Town and seeing the Washington Monument, the Capitol, and the Old Post Tower on the reg from across the Potomac, we Berry's felt it was only appropriate to watch all seven seasons of The West Wing to properly introduce us to our new surroundings. And seriously, I forgot how addicting good that show really was.

And how appropriate that the episode of President Bartlet issuing pardons would come up around Easter... To recap, Bartlet is considering 36 petitions of clemency but is surrounded by sticky conditionals: poor timing in the lead up to his SOTU; the delegation of reviewing the petitions without looking like any heavy consideration is occurring; the relatively low number of pardons issued by his contemporaries vs. a noticeably higher average by Woodrow Wilson, Calvin Coolidge, & FDR; assurances that all selected petitions (referred to as "packing peanuts") are non-violent & serving minimum sentences; that all the "packing peanuts" don't scream too much of a political move in one direction or the other; worrying about what the chosen will look like on the cover of the Times... In other words, so much red tape. 

And poor Donna. She drew the short straw in having to review all the files on the 36. She sees them as more than a number: people with families, trying to make the best of desperate situations. Donna even meets the affluent family of one of the 36, who are so desperate for their son's pardon that the mother begs for the mercy of President Bartlet. But that pesky red tape barred any opportunity for his pardon at the moment ("maybe in the spring when the dust settles" as Leo puts it) & in the end, he kills himself. 

Could you imagine that? All those steps to ensure your forgiveness? To start anew? This stuff happens in real life. All because one made a terrible mistake. Damned for life {sounds a lot like Jean Valjean's life in Les Mis, doesn't it?}.

But then, there's a reciprocal story. It's the story of Easter. A story that deals with a pardon of the spirit rather than the flesh. A presidential pardon can only clear one's name, but for a soul-cleansing, look no further than the Cross. 

Skipping over the part about God sending his son to experience all of the trials and pains of the world (aka the Incarnation, John 1:1-2, 14), Christ did a rather preposterous thing {weirder greater than coming to earth in the first place}: he died... as a criminal in the eyes of the Law. But wait... Our perfect King, a criminal? 


Yes, yes. As I think many of us forget throughout the year and remember riiiiight around Passion week, Christ was quite the peaceful protestor. What he preached was a rebellion of itself {albeit a semi-quiet movement}, even though the God Incarnate knew all along that he was fulfilling all the previous covenants & Scripture from the Old Testament. The primate minds of the humans just couldn't comprehend... Not even his disciples fully knew what was going on & were confused even up to Christ's acknowledgment of the events to come {heck, they were confused until they saw him again on the third/fourth day}:



"Jesus took the Twelve aside and told them,
'We are going up to Jerusalem, 
and everything that is written by the prophets
 about the Son of Man will be fulfilled.
He will be handed over to the Gentiles.
They will mock him, insult him, spit on him, flog him and kill him.*
On the third day he will rise again.'
The disciples did not understand any of this.
Its meaning was hidden from them,
and they did not know what he was talking about."

Luke 18:31-34


Poor guys. They just didn't have a clue. Meanwhile, all the teachers of the Law and Pharisees were running around trying to catch Christ out on something he said. Anything to prove that he was a fraud... In their eyes (as in everyone else's), the Law was the Law. Uphold it or be cast aside. After playing a few rounds of Jeopardy! and Christ answering their vindictive questions with profound answers questions, the chief priests & elders got sick of their reindeer games and went with a different approach: cleverly arrest Jesus & kill him! So they checked their calendars & decided it was best to avoid their scheme during the Passover Feast as that may cause a riot among the people (Matthew 26:1-5). Always gotta tiptoe around those politics, you guys. Plus, they caught a lucky break by the name of the traitor Judas (a supposed disciple) who did all their dirty work for them.

So now we have a criminal caught up in a bad trial of false witnesses & evidence with the Sanhedrin. Eventually two witnesses appeared that had something of merit: they had heard Christ say "I am able to destroy the temple of God and rebuild it in three days." (Matthew 26:61) Needless to say, Christ eventually received his death sentence after admitting to being the Son of God (& they spit on & struck him*). So Christ was shuttled to the governor of Judea, Pontius Pilate, who had the authority at Passover to pardon a prisoner. But as this is a reciprocal story, Christ doesn't get pardoned; Christ does the pardoning. Instead Barabbas, a notorious prisoner, got the golden ticket, & Christ was flogged* and handed over to be crucified. 

In the next stage, the soldiers dressed Christ up in a robe, a crown of thorns, & a staff and mocked* him saying "Hail, king of the Jews" and spit on him some more. Once they'd had their fun, the soldiers crucified him & placed his written charge above his head: This is Jesus, King of the Jews. And pretty much anybody and everybody insulted* him: the soldiers, the passersby, even the robbers flanked on either side of him on their crosses {their personal favorite was reminding him of his power to destroy a temple, yet his inability to save himself from the cross.. Oh ye, of little faith!}

And so, he died* at the hands of the Law. Oh, and the temple broke in two, a sort of earthquake-thing happened, tombs broke open & many bodies of holy people were raised back to life (Matthew 27:51-53), causing the centurion to exclaim, "Surely he was the Son of God!"

But the chief priests & elders weren't done quite yet {they're very thorough}. They didn't want any funny business going on with the ever loyal disciples, so they posted a guard at the tomb to prevent anyone from stealing Christ's body & falsely proclaiming he had risen again on the third day. So on that day, there was a violent earthquake & an angel of the Lord came and rolled back the tomb stone {thwarting their plan of keeping it sealed shut}, which totally gave the guards a fright & caused them to pass out. The angel told the women (who had come before the angel's arrival) that Christ had risen! And to pass the news along to his disciples and Peter that he was going ahead of them to Galilee (Mark 16:6-7). 

But even that wasn't enough for the Eleven to cause them to believe. No, it took Christ coming to see them personally for their eyes to be opened and see that all they had hoped & learned through the Scriptures was true. But hey, at least they got it eventually, unlike the chief priests and elders who paid off the guards to spread the story that the disciples came in the dead of night & stole Christ's body to give the illusion that he rose from the grave (Matthew 28:11-15)... I told you they're very thorough.


"This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel [...]," declares the Lord;
"I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts."
[...]
"For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more."

Jeremiah 31:33-34


"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son,
that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world,
but to save the world through him."

John 3:16-17


So while it may not take a grand jury, perfect political timing, or an extensive general counsel's office to grant you a pardon, do remember this: your forgiveness doesn't come without a price. The Son of God came here to this place full of everything that Heaven is not to teach us a new way of life through his light & truth. During his time here, he demonstrated for us that the two greatest commandments were truly something to live by, to love God & love people. And then one day around the Passover Feast, he fulfilled every prophesy and scripture about the Christ in the Law of Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms by being crucified & rising again three days later. 

He loves you that much. To die for you, and to bring you a new covenant with God full of grace.


**Most of the story came from Matthew 26 & 27 and Luke 24

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

the fifth day of spring {by title only}


Dearest Mother Nature,

This past week I've had a case of the bloggin' blues {as noted by the lack of interesting content around here}, and I blame it wholeheartedly on the weather. I mean, I get it. Last year we were all up in arms because we never even had a semblance of a winter, so I think these days you're just trying to prove your point that you were giving us a pass. As an uprooted Southerner, I am grateful for the lack of snow this past season, but throwing in a few inches this late in the game is a bit cruel. I have a bad case of cabin fever, and I desperately need to find WARM sunlight and blissful spring days STAT. I don't really feel like I'm asking for much, just traditional March weather. And as it's almost April, I think it's high time to give in to our wishes. I know for a fact that my body is craving some Vitamin D, so I'm hoping your little temper tantrum of a late winter snow is out of your system and that we can go back to being friends. I'll even settle for 50 degree temperatures so long as there's sun.

>>>> Your friend,


                      Kat

P.S. As if my ramblings could be any more persistent {or more random}, I hope those few lines from James Merrill's "The Broken Home" (Always that same old story--/Father Time and Mother Earth/A marriage on the rocks) hasn't caused you much trauma. As in I hope the fact that Merrill used you as a metaphor for his parents' messy divorce isn't causing you pain in the form of late March snow... I'm here for ya, sista. That husband of time is with you, too {even though he causes you to change constantly to keep up your longstanding marriage}. On second thought, if you've been fighting back against the grains of ticking time to immortalize one moment, I forgive you for this looming chill. But let's mimic the feminist independence movement and gain some confidence in that field, k?

Thursday, March 21, 2013

remember the time... {vol. III}

{lately}

+ Husmate & I have formed a new couple crush on our newlywed friends, Emily & Josh. To the extent that my early-to-bed-early-to-rise husband couldn't tear himself away from a weekday game night of Monopoly with those two that almost lasted until midnight. And for the record, Emily may seem friendly and polite but she's ruthless when it comes to her ownership of Boardwalk & Park Place {& the three or four houses she built there, bankrupting us all}.

+ Many thanks to the trail for introducing another animal that I had to stop & stare at while on a run {while all the fast people passed me & wondered what that crazy girl was up to}. Meet our newest neighbors: the muskrats, who sadly are not river otters, like I had hoped they would be. {muskrats, you otter be otters if you want more friends...} Also, I am officially not the slowest person running the trail these days. Three cheers to me for passing at least a few others {while the rest continue to sprint past in their beast modes}... 

Picture cred to wikipedia, the ever trustworthy source

+ The wriggly, shadowy creature that resides in our apartment has been spotted again. Again he was spotted by me, and again husmate didn't see him the next morning anywhere. But I stand by what I saw, and I am not making it up. I have now resorted to calling him Lizard and trying to coax him out at night before husmate goes to sleep {Yeah, now you know I'm occasionally weird}.

{auld lang syne}

+ Husmate & I got married 11 months ago today. Where did the time go? 

Monday, March 18, 2013

the cameron: a ghost of a dream


For about two hours yesterday, husmate and I were living in a beautiful dream of home ownership. 

It was a blissful dream full of mortgage payments and manageable HOA fees. A brand new condominium that would have been all ours. Never before lived in {heck, not even built yet}. Five blocks from the metro station. A newborn residence project right in the heart of the booming Old Town North. We would even be able to decide a few of the details. Some were standard, like hardwood floors, marble countertops, & spacious closet space. And you know, a heart can soar or break over the size of closet space in big city dwelling {I kid you not, my southern friends}. This apartment would have even met the ever-elusive LEED standards. A dream, I tell you, a fantastic dream!

But then we awoke from this dream, just like we tend to do. Slowly, like the grains of sand trickling from an hourglass, the tiny flashes of details vanished {like furniture arrangements & paint colors}, and eventually all we were left with was the ghost of a floor plan. 

The time isn't right for us to own a place yet. But one day..Until then I'll just live in my imagination and consider adding an addendum to the section in Ecclesiastes about time:


There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
{a time to buy and a time to rent}
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8


Upon reflection, buy vs. rent is probably a bit worldly for such a meaningful section, but I think it goes a step further on the whole "search and give up" bit. Regardless, it is not time. But I know that the Lord's plan will reveal itself to us when it is time, and what a sweet time that will be.


He has made everything beautiful in its time.
He has also set eternity in the hearts of men;
yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
I know that there is nothing better for men
than to be happy and do good while they live.
That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil--
this is the gift of God.

Ecclesiastes 3:11-13




*for reference, a 650-750 square-foot apartment around here goes for the same cost as a two-story brick house in our home states. I kid you not. 


& in case you missed last week:

Friday, March 15, 2013

delightfully delicious chocolate chip cookies


First, to Laney, I apologize for caving on our agreement & posting a recipe. I did my best to make a compromise & post it on a Friday which generally has the lowest viewership, so... you're welcome.

Also, this is by far the best chocolate chip recipe I have ever made. So, you're welcome twice, readers. I stumbled upon it while perusing this wonderful cooking blog, A Tender Crumb. Now for my disclaimer: {DISCLAIMER} this recipe calls for a whole heck of a lot of fattening ingredients, but it redeems itself by making 8 1/2 dozen cookies. So when your eyes bug out & your arteries prematurely stress after glancing at the ingredients list, quickly draw your attention back up here and read that disclaimer again.



Jacque Torres' Secret Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe


|| My Helpful Hints ||

+ tastes the best when using 60% cacao bittersweet chocolate or higher (we obviously prefer Ghiradelli)

+ to make chopping chocolate bars easier (& your wrist hurt less), stick them in the microwave for 15-20 seconds

+ if you're having trouble finding pastry or bread flour that isn't whole wheat, that's what we've been using & it tastes great. Plus it's healthier for you, and with the components of this recipe, you need all the help you can get

+ we've found that this recipe is a lot bigger than our Kitchen-aid stand mixer, so we use a big ole mixing bowl & a hand mixer

+ because this recipe is so large, I tend to measure out everything before I start mixing, combining the first group (sugars) in a small bowl and the second group (flours, salt, baking powder, baking soda) in a large bowl. That way the only thing I have to do individually is crack eggs & measure the vanilla extract

+ for the best results, chill the dough 8-48 hours before baking. It really makes a difference on the texture of the cookie {as noted by our flat cookies above which proves we were too impatient to wait to eat them the next day}

+ the original recipe calls for baking the dough at 350 F for 15 minutes, but we've found that cooking them at 325 F for 12 minutes gives you a softer cookie {you know, if you prefer that kind of thing}

+ this cookie dough freezes really well. So if you don't have a hankering for eating 102 cookies at once or even in the near future, don't worry you can just pull it out in a few weeks or more. We tend to bake some, refrigerate some, & freeze some just for good measure :) we're cookie dough stock holders as evidenced by this post {by the way, still no shame}


|| Ingredients ||

1 lb. unsalted butter
1 3/4 c. granulated sugar
2 1/4 c. packed light brown sugar
4 eggs
3 c. + 2 T. pastry flour
3 c. bread flour
1 T. salt
2 t. baking powder
2 t. baking soda
1 T. vanilla extract
2 lb. chocolate {we go closer to 22 ounces, which breaks down to 1 (10-oz) chip bag & 3 (4-oz) bars OR 2 (10-oz) chip bags & 1 (4-oz) bar. The former tastes better, but the latter costs less. I would still throw in some cut up bars because frankly they taste better than chips (plus, they make you feel way more professional)}


|| Directions ||

1. Chop bars into chunks. Preheat oven to 350 F.
2. Cream together butter and both sugars.
3. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition.
4. Reduce speed to low & add both flours, salt, baking powder, baking soda, & vanilla; mix well until combined.
5. Fold in chocolate.
6. Using a 4-oz scoop for larger cookies or a 1-oz scoop for smaller cookies, scoop cookie dough onto prepared baking sheets, about 2" apart.
7. Bake until lightly browned, but still soft, about 20 minutes for larger cookies & 15 minutes for smaller cookies.
8. Cool slightly on baking sheets before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.


Makes 26 5" cookies (have not tried those out yet), or 8 1/2 dozen 1 1/4" cookies

Thursday, March 14, 2013

note to self


I think Mr. Twain was onto something.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

late night ramblings: a society too big for its britches

So despite the fact that technology has always been an integral part of my life {thanks mainly to the generation I was born into}, I still have my days of sighing "Woe to you, internet. You devilish can of worms. You, dear one, have spurred on wayyyy too much, too soon."

Yes, yes, the internet brought about the information age {every answer you could possibly need at the touch of your fingertips!}, a better chance at equalizing education standards across the country {one day kids born into poverty could be smarter than those well to-do kids in the northeast}, & just plain ole curiosity {why does the rain in Spain fall mainly on the plain?}. 

BUT, as usual, the internet came before its time & with it came all sorts of new (albeit, late-blooming) issues: hazy/nonexistent governing laws, the slow death of brick & mortar stores, the noticeably missing taxes that would have come from the brick & mortar stores, & the inability to understand any sort of spelling/grammar rules {we can all act like e.e. cummings and never capitalize any words ever again! look at me using these fancy brackets rather than using parentheses- muahahaha take THAT MLA}. 

Surprisingly, however, my biggest issue with the internet is something much less tangible: its ability to redefine standards for generations to come {my second is spelling errors/spawn of abbreviations born from the instant messaging days, but that's beside the point here}. The big bad wolf has tricked us all into redefining the phrase "instant gratification." We now seek a deeper relationship with our iPhones & computers than we do with the company of friends or family. In fact, my dad directed me to this article in which the writer fully expected all communications to take place via text/twitter... even conversations with his parents/sister (to the extent that his father called & left multiple voicemails, and the writer refused to call him back. His father eventually heard the new standard of communication via the writer's sister and now the family mostly talks on twitter). I wish I could tell you that I was kidding, but I'm not...

This instaworld that we all live in & conquer is going to our heads, folks. We (I'm included, don't worry) would rather wish a person a "happy birthday" on a facebook wall than send a card. Speaking of cards, we've pretty much abandoned the whole postal system for our germ-covered battery-powered phones. Oh, Gutenberg! And the whole reading a book thing? Yeah, that's a dying art, too {sigh}. All for what? Instant gratification.

We, humans, expect everything NOW. We're all turning into little versions of Veruca Salt from Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. We can't be bothered with talking in person or on the phone anymore, gotta text! We can't waste time going to a {gasp} bookstore, must purchase kindle versions. Psh, why buy a whole album when we can buy the two songs that we actually like? Our little instant gratifications are running a lot of our little American-run businesses straight into the ground, and we don't even care. Because we wanted it in that exact second, & we got it. And we're building our own little kingdoms and keeping everyone & everything else out.

And for the daily double, this information age of ours doesn't have an off button. It goes 24/7. It runs during family dinners, last minute cramming study sessions, & even during friend hang-out times. We think that because our connectivity to this magical world of internet & communication is never ceasing, that we should use it unceasingly. We no longer walk on the street or drive a car just to walk or to drive. We talk on our phones, we text, we write ourselves memos, emails, blog posts, we read BREAKING NEWS tweets. We are our own little PR reps constantly tethered to a coded world, rather than the natural world, because we can't miss anythingAnd it never stops. We've created a monster & it's turning us into monsters, too. We're slowly constructing walls brick by brick around ourselves that isolate us from the humanity we once knew.

We have come to the assumption that our time is terribly terribly important. And it is, don't get me wrong, but what priority level are we really classifying our time? My time is not so important to forget to say please or thank you, to ask people how they are, or to even hold the door for a stranger. My time is not so important that I can't move on the sidewalk to let someone pass me or smile & talk with the person ringing up my groceries. My time is not so important that I won't help a kid enter the metro station using his fare card or give a lost driver directions around our neighborhood {I'm a southerner, old habits die hard, thank goodness}. 

My time is not so important to forget that I am a child of my dear King & that my time here is supposed to be spent obeying and praising Him, not mindlessly following the world. I don't want to lock myself in a self made tower and forget my purpose. My time is not my time; my time is His time. So I'm going to be more intentional, and not get so caught up in this labyrinth of being redefined. Because I don't want to wake up one day and forget who I am. The real me, not the internet presence me or the greedy need-more-now me or the one-man-is-an-island me. Me, with a lovely tangible life full of friends, family, a husband, and a concern for the greater good.



"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

John 14:27

{end scene}

Monday, March 11, 2013

remember the time... {vol. II}

{lately}

+ After deciding I wanted to buy a hula hoop (yes, you read that correctly), we drove to the store and searched all over; the only ones we could find had a super cool feature of lighting up... I'm so mature. The looks we got as we tested out what size hula hoop was appropriate was the highlight of my day, as well as the inevitable giggling that I couldn't stifle. Don't forget the embarrassment we attempted to avoid when one of our neighbors was outside upon our arrival home and we left the glittery turquoise hula hoop in the car... "by accident."

+ After seeing all the running warriors around us in Alexandria conquering the freezing cold, we worked up the courage to go together one afternoon. We were very convincing up until the wind became so brutal on our warm down that we promptly turned around and cut our walk short by a mile or more... Our southern blood has ruined us. 

+ Before leaving for work one morning, husmate kissed me goodbye on my forehead while I was asleep and apparently I kissed the air in reaction. Smoooch! And then giggled when he laughed at me. And was asleep the whole time. Deep sleeper over here, guys.

+ For two months, we both thought that the spare set of keys to my car (aka husmate's set) was lost forever and that he had misplaced them/fell out of his pocket on a walk to Old Town... And then they reappeared one morning... in the pocket of one of wifey's peacoats. Whoops, my bad. Sorry husmate for giving you the blame! You can have full key privileges again #wifeyfail

+ I saw a shadowy creature scurry around our apartment late one night, and I woke up a groggy husmate to search under the refrigerator/oven/couch/desk for it. He's such a sport, even though I think he thinks I'm crazy considering he never found the speedy 4" monster... And he wasn't even fully awake in his search & destroy mission.

{auld lang syne}

+ We both verbally agreed to sign up for a half marathon together during our dating days, annnnnndddd wifey dropped the ball and missed the deadline (after husmate reminded wifey 7 x 70 times to sign up). Husmate was left to suffer through a half marathon solo (& underprepared, also due to wifey's fault ;) ). Well the time has come that due to marriage & not being allowed to squirm out of it, we will both be signing up for one again this year. Now just to decide on which one to run?

+ The day after we got engaged in DC, the weather was so. dang. windy. that when we walked to revisit our bench we had to lean into the wind just so we could keep moving forward {for once, I'm not exaggerating because that was the day the National Christmas tree fell over}. Lately the wind around here has been pretty sassy, but so far no fallen trees (of course, there's no replacement Christmas tree currently to fight the bully of the breeze either).




& in case you missed last week:

Thursday, March 7, 2013

letters of the nonsensical variety


Dear Postman, at first I started to think you had forgotten about my J. Crew jeans when my package was noticeably absent, but you greatly impressed me by stuffing them into my little apartment mailbox instead. You, sir, deserve a gold star in packing efficiency and should probably hold a seminar on how to properly pack a carry-on so as best to avoid airline charges. Dear Mr. Huxley, I know I praised you in high school for a job well done on Brave New World, but really, job well done. After recently reading it again, I still freak out about the world to come. But don't worry, I shall bring God and Shakespeare with me. Probably more God than Shakespeare though (I gotta be honest). Dear Sarah, thanks for reassuring me after I read BNW that I was just feeling the "the weight" on my shoulders, and that this too will pass. Dear Modern Family, thank you for understanding what I meant about parents & kids being friends when Claire asked Haley on a date. You get me every time. I especially loved the analogy: "Raising a kid is like sending a rocket ship to the moon. You spend the early years in constant contact and then one day, around the teenage years, they go around the dark side and they're gone. All you can do is wait for that faint signal that says they're coming back." Hey parents, I'm baaaaackkk! Dear weather, you befuddle me. Yesterday was delightfully cool. Perfect running conditions. Dare I say it, spring weather-like? Today, we're getting our first "real" snow of the season. In March. Are you hormonal? Let's work on that. Dear first week back of running, I both love and hate you. Thank you for reminding me that I am woefully out of shape. When a woman three times my age zoomed past me on the trail, I finally got it. Dear husmate, your enthusiasm for learning something new is quite possibly the cutest thing. ever. When your books came in the mail the other day, you would have thought it was Christmas morning. I can't wait to see you really get into your new skill. :) Also, Michael Buble is the cheesiest. I apologize that my Avett/Mumford love makes me skeptical of your acceptance of Buble. Let's work on that, shall we?

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

be still


You often hear people say that life is a funny thing. And it is. It's a wonderfully confusing and funny thing. I've been composing my thoughts on this post for awhile, but I suppose it's time to finally put pen to paper, so to speak, and share why it is I've entitled this blog "Be Still." 

Until midway through college, I always had a plan for my life: College > Med School > Join a practice > Start a family > Strike a balance of work and family > Survive > Retire. And this plan had been intact for a very long time, so much so that it included a back-up plan of majoring in bioengineering, just in case plan A didn't work out (got that? just in case).

The first kink to my plan came one summer when I was shadowing all the different medical specialties and realized that none of them fit me. AHHHH whatdoIdonow??? Have no fear, almost every doctor I shadowed presented me with a new plan: dental school. And it seemed just perfect: great for women, more manageable hours, actually be a part of the family you helped create. Okay, great: new plan A. 

And the modified plan A was going well until it came time for my application to be turned in senior year, and I had just one question left to answer: why do you want to be a dentist? That's a good question... to which I had no answer. I mean, yes, I could have fibbed it, but I was more plagued with the idea that I had no idea why I wanted to pursue this path.

So, my boyfriend at the time suggested a piece of advice that I had always shied away from, nay, slammed the door on: why not take a year off after college to figure out my life plans?

And so it came to pass that I jumped off of my plan A (head first it seemed like). It took me about a week to realize that I had always treated my life like the opening scene of Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. I had placed myself on a conveyer belt that had already decided all of my life's fate from its start: at metre 152 I would enter university where I would major in biological engineering, at 321 I would study my entire life away in a library (good ole Mitchell Memorial!) so as to maintain my good marks, at 467 I would graduate and attend a post graduate program, at 683 I would somehow find a person who could put up with my eccentricities and manage to date him while slaving away at my doctorate, at 894 I would finish up my residency, and finally, at metre 1000 I would complete my goal & get a job, get married, and begin my life. Be strong, be independent, be confident. And the sad part is that all along the way I know I would have channeled the Director in that scene by saying "charming, charming" the whole time. 

So I kicked myself off the conveyer belt of Hatcheries & Conditioning, and I let life go on. And things I would never have predicted happened. That boyfriend proposed to me, me, the girl who everyone else counted on not getting married until she was 30 (including the girl herself). I graduated & moved back home (definitely was not in the picture) to plan a wedding. I got married & moved to a place 13 hours away from the only city I've ever called home. And I still don't have a clue what I want to be when I grow up. Life is a curiously funny thing. 

But all those things that happened because I jumped ship have been a wonderful blessing. The marriage thing is an obvious one, but even moving home made my life better. I got the opportunity to really appreciate & love being with my parents, aka the roomies. It was the first time that I wasn't a preoccupied student taking up space in their house, but rather a (dare I say it?) peer that saw them for the caring people that they are. And it was probably the first time that I realized all the pressure I felt in college came from a central location: little ole me. 

So here I am admitting to you that I don't know where I'm going in life. For a girl who always had a plan growing up, it takes a lot to admit that. I've always had such pride in my progress & my plan, but boy, can that pride be such a hindrance. It has taken me many months to break that down and realize that it's okay that I don't know. That the question mark hovering over my head is more of a friend than a foe, & that faith (and patience in that faith) is the only thing that will get me through this period of self doubt & unrest. 

One night during one of my all night study sessions, I stumbled along Psalm 46 which reminds us that though the world may be a destructive place, God is always there. We just have to stop & listen:


God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging. {Selah}

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. {Selah}

Come and see the works of the Lord,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth;
he breaks the bows and shatters the spear,
he burns the shields with fire.
Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.

The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress. {Selah}

Reading that psalm made me realize that my little plan for myself never allowed me to rely on my faith. What a worldly human I can be! I mean I know that God finds me funny in the way that I'm clever & weird, but he must have had a field day when I realized that my plan was so insignificant compared to His. I know I'm hilarious, Yahweh, keep on chuckling up there! 

And since that sleepless night, Psalm 46:10 has become something of battle cry for me. Every time I start to get down on myself, I recite those comforting words. Sometimes things get so drastic that I even write a small 46:10 on my hand so that I'll see it constantly. The answer will come. One day. Because my God has a plan for me, and always has. It included me falling metaphorically on my face, so that I could see His world that I was missing. His plan. 


But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
whose confidence is in him.
He will be like a tree planted by the water
that sends out its roots by the stream.
It does not fear when heat comes;
its leaves are always green.
It has no worries in a year of drought
and never fails to bear fruit.

Jeremiah 17: 7-8

So I'm being still. And waiting.