I have a longer post in mind for this week, but for now...
note to self:
If something falls on my head, get it checked out IMMEDIATELY. Do not go to sleep, do not pass go, do not collect $200.
(Also, when the Billy Mays news first "broke," my first thought was Billy Mays, the baseball player? Whoops...got it now)
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
thin indeed
We went to Aiken, SC this weekend to visit Thomas' parents. This morning at church, I got a kick out of a typo in the powerpoint of song lyrics:
make me THIN indeed
perhaps a cultural Freudian slip--how much more often do we wish to be "thin" instead of "thine."
make me THIN indeed
perhaps a cultural Freudian slip--how much more often do we wish to be "thin" instead of "thine."
Friday, June 19, 2009
mrs. fly
pilates update: no unfortuante incidents with the instructor's pants today, thank goodness! She does use some odd phrases--as in, instead of "way to go" or "good job," her favorite thing to say is "yay-rah." It certainly gets the point across, but it is a new phrase to me.
and, on a semi-related note:
I was thinking back to other horrifying/odd incidents with teachers, and a fourth grade memory popped up--at least one reader of this blog will remember this, I think. We had a substitute teacher one day, and, horror of all horrors, her fly was down. all afternoon. The zipper wasn't just a little bit down; it was the whole shebang, lacy underwear and all. Now, the mature, non-4th grade way to approach this situation would have been to simply let her know so that she could remedy the situation. Instead, I am now ashamed to admit, we laughed shamelessly all afternoon. As well as for weeks afterward...I have no memory of this woman's name, only that we called her Mrs. Fly.
And given my chosen career path (English 101 instructor, coming soon to a USC theater near you), I am now terrified that something equally dreadful will happen to me! Karma, after all, demands it.
and, on a semi-related note:
I was thinking back to other horrifying/odd incidents with teachers, and a fourth grade memory popped up--at least one reader of this blog will remember this, I think. We had a substitute teacher one day, and, horror of all horrors, her fly was down. all afternoon. The zipper wasn't just a little bit down; it was the whole shebang, lacy underwear and all. Now, the mature, non-4th grade way to approach this situation would have been to simply let her know so that she could remedy the situation. Instead, I am now ashamed to admit, we laughed shamelessly all afternoon. As well as for weeks afterward...I have no memory of this woman's name, only that we called her Mrs. Fly.
And given my chosen career path (English 101 instructor, coming soon to a USC theater near you), I am now terrified that something equally dreadful will happen to me! Karma, after all, demands it.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
books and such
In Tim Keller's The Reason for God, I came across the following this morning:
"Sin is the despairing refusal to find your deepest identity in your relationship and service to God. Sin is seeking to become oneself, to get an identity, apart from him."
I find this to be a spectacularly simple way of understanding our sin nature and also the pervasiveness of sin in our lives. Self identity is of the greatest value in our culture--everyone is always trying to find themselves or adopt a new/changed identity--and if we find our identity in anything other than our relationship and service to God, we will be inherently unstable.
Later on, Keller (in response to Kierkegaard) talks about sin as the making of good things into ultimate things. So, if I root my identity solely in my occupation as a student or as a wife or anything else (no matter how "good" those things are), I am turning good things into ultimate things. I am locating the significance of my existence outside of where it truly belongs.
phew, heavy stuff!
In other news, I just finished Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. Terrific read--the language in particular is incredible.
No man is an Island, entire of it selfe; every man
is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine...
any mans death
diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee. (J. Donne)
"Sin is the despairing refusal to find your deepest identity in your relationship and service to God. Sin is seeking to become oneself, to get an identity, apart from him."
I find this to be a spectacularly simple way of understanding our sin nature and also the pervasiveness of sin in our lives. Self identity is of the greatest value in our culture--everyone is always trying to find themselves or adopt a new/changed identity--and if we find our identity in anything other than our relationship and service to God, we will be inherently unstable.
Later on, Keller (in response to Kierkegaard) talks about sin as the making of good things into ultimate things. So, if I root my identity solely in my occupation as a student or as a wife or anything else (no matter how "good" those things are), I am turning good things into ultimate things. I am locating the significance of my existence outside of where it truly belongs.
phew, heavy stuff!
In other news, I just finished Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls. Terrific read--the language in particular is incredible.
No man is an Island, entire of it selfe; every man
is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine...
any mans death
diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And
therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee. (J. Donne)
Monday, June 15, 2009
23...
...is how many beavers (stuffed animals, figurines, etc) that I can see in our room. Perhaps we can get one new one every year to correspond with how old I am...
...is how many times I thought we might be struck by lightning while out boating in the harbor yesterday. Our friend Tony took Thomas and me (along with 3 other friends, Kate, Jimmy and Meghan) on an initially lovely Sunday afternoon boat ride. We left from the marina downtown, picked up K and J at Red's on Shem Creek, and then headed up the Intercoastal Waterway. It was beautiful, sunny and idyllic. Maggie, Tony's beautiful golden retriever, skittered around the boat on her toenails and drooled a lot. Then a storm started to roll in...quickly. Within five minutes of the initial raindrops, we were in a downpour, complete with thunder and lightning. Have you ever been in a boat going 35 miles per hour in a thunderstorm? The raindrops feel like tiny pins poking any piece of exposed flesh. Maggie began to give us her saddest possible face as she dug her toenails into whatever she was lying on--boat, legs, she didn't discriminate. Anyways, first mate Thomas and captain Tony successfully brought us through the storm and into the marina with no permanent damage done. Although we'll see how Maggie responds next time Tony wants to take her out on the boat....
...is how many times I thought we might be struck by lightning while out boating in the harbor yesterday. Our friend Tony took Thomas and me (along with 3 other friends, Kate, Jimmy and Meghan) on an initially lovely Sunday afternoon boat ride. We left from the marina downtown, picked up K and J at Red's on Shem Creek, and then headed up the Intercoastal Waterway. It was beautiful, sunny and idyllic. Maggie, Tony's beautiful golden retriever, skittered around the boat on her toenails and drooled a lot. Then a storm started to roll in...quickly. Within five minutes of the initial raindrops, we were in a downpour, complete with thunder and lightning. Have you ever been in a boat going 35 miles per hour in a thunderstorm? The raindrops feel like tiny pins poking any piece of exposed flesh. Maggie began to give us her saddest possible face as she dug her toenails into whatever she was lying on--boat, legs, she didn't discriminate. Anyways, first mate Thomas and captain Tony successfully brought us through the storm and into the marina with no permanent damage done. Although we'll see how Maggie responds next time Tony wants to take her out on the boat....
Friday, June 12, 2009
and we're off!
So, blogging is something that I have been considering for awhile. My major concerns were: a creative blog name, that my life is not interesting enough (aka I'm not abroad and not a mom with 10 kids running around the house saying cute things), lack of time, etc. Thomas has sweetly been encouraging me to overcome these potential obstacles, and today, in the midst of pilates class, inspiration struck in the form of a blog title and my thoughts snowballed from there.
And when I say "snowballed," I mean literally, since the blog name is inspired by skiing. I wanted a name that would reflect my beloved Colorado roots while at the same time embracing my new-ish last name. So if you were thinking (fearing) that this blog is going to be a daily report on our shower habits, you can now relax. My actual plan is to work within the constructs of two quotations. The first is from Laura Ingalls Wilder...
"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all."
...and the second is from an 18th century writer named George Herbert:
"Though I fail, I weep;
Though I halt in pace
Yet I creep
To the throne of grace."
Profoundly simple and profoundly true--these thoughts demarcate the edges of my world view (sorry for the rhyme) and I hope to build on these in future posts.
BUT, lest you fear that all posts will be serious and quotation-driven, here is a little anecdote from this morning.
My Pilates instructor, a dear, sweet older woman, chose to wear a pair of hip-hugging spandex pants to class this morning. She pulled off the outfit well, even impressively, but then disaster struck. In the middle of a roll up exercise (lying on the floor, limbs fully extended in a straight line, you roll from your back into a seated position), these limegreen pants somehow slippped down. And I saw her entire rear end every time I rolled up. It was horrifying and hilarious at the same time. Fortunately she realized it eventually and gave a semi-discrete tug. I pretended like I didn't notice, but I was DYING to know if others around me noticed the great fall.
And when I say "snowballed," I mean literally, since the blog name is inspired by skiing. I wanted a name that would reflect my beloved Colorado roots while at the same time embracing my new-ish last name. So if you were thinking (fearing) that this blog is going to be a daily report on our shower habits, you can now relax. My actual plan is to work within the constructs of two quotations. The first is from Laura Ingalls Wilder...
"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all."
...and the second is from an 18th century writer named George Herbert:
"Though I fail, I weep;
Though I halt in pace
Yet I creep
To the throne of grace."
Profoundly simple and profoundly true--these thoughts demarcate the edges of my world view (sorry for the rhyme) and I hope to build on these in future posts.
BUT, lest you fear that all posts will be serious and quotation-driven, here is a little anecdote from this morning.
My Pilates instructor, a dear, sweet older woman, chose to wear a pair of hip-hugging spandex pants to class this morning. She pulled off the outfit well, even impressively, but then disaster struck. In the middle of a roll up exercise (lying on the floor, limbs fully extended in a straight line, you roll from your back into a seated position), these limegreen pants somehow slippped down. And I saw her entire rear end every time I rolled up. It was horrifying and hilarious at the same time. Fortunately she realized it eventually and gave a semi-discrete tug. I pretended like I didn't notice, but I was DYING to know if others around me noticed the great fall.
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