15 Authors

I got this idea from a friend's facebook, and had great fun compiling my list!

The Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Fifteen authors (poets included) who've influenced you and who will always stick with you. List the first fifteen you can recall in no more than fifteen minutes.

So now that you know what I'm doing, here's my list!

15 authors who've influenced me & who will always stick with me:

Tennyson "In Memoriam"

I am amazed at Tennyson's portrayal of grief and hope, and think of the language of this poem fairly often. Really I love most anything by Tennyson...

Bronte "Jane Eyre"

I think this is my all-time favorite book, and am amazed at the depth of thought and feeling, as well as the depth of character portrayed.

Mauriac "Woman of the Pharisees"

I read this book in college, and came face to face with someone I didn't want to be. I've never learned so much from a negative example.

Hopkins "Carrion Comfort"

This poem gets me every time I read it. I'm only kind of kidding when I say that I would never be able to really backslide, even if I wanted to, because of having read it!

Goudge "Pilgrim's Inn" & "The City of Bells" & "The Dean's Watch"

I love Elizabeth Goudge. She's taught me so much about love and human connection.

James "Portrait of a Lady"

This book fascinates me. My brother told me, when I was 18, that I reminded him of the main character, and it's been a favorite ever since.

Shakespeare "Hamlet" & Sonnet 116

Hamlet changed the way I think about life. His picture of acceptance of the Divine will is an inspiration to me. Sonnet 116's line "love alters not when it alteration finds" was a specific lesson to me on unconditional love.

Homer "The Iliad"

I was stunned, after reading "From Achilles to Christ," and after teaching it to an enthusiastic class, at the lessons to be taken from Achilles transformation. Truly beautiful.

Tolstoy "War & Peace"

I didn't absolutely love this book while reading it, but discussing it later with my students made me see new meaning in it. Tolstoy's message of relinquishing one's grip on the earthly in order to attain the heavenly is one that I keep thinking of over and over.

PG Wodehouse - pretty much everything!

I just love Wodehouse. I think he is a genius.

Edith Wharton "House of Mirth"

A depressing book, in a way, but I was completely captivated by its world, and by the main character.

Hugh Walpole "The Cathedral"

This book goes deep with me, since it talks about what seems to be my role in life as a person trying to hold on to what used to be in the face of what's becoming... :) Heartbreaking, but so good.

Herman Melville "Moby Dick"

I read this book exactly exactly when I needed it most, and clung to its message about acknowledging evil, but not staying there. "Gaze not too long in the face of the fire, O man... There is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he forever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than the other birds upon the plain, even though they soar."

Evelyn Waugh "Brideshead Revisted"

The "Hound of Heaven" message in this book is one that has helped to shape the way I think about God's pursuit of the soul. The book itself is edgy enough that I don't really recommend it, but I'm glad I had to read it at PC because it gave me new understanding.

Prentiss "Stepping Heavenward"

This story of a woman's surrender to the Will of God helped me through a crisis in my own faith.

Bronte "Wuthering Heights"

This is, I think, my all-time favorite. I know I already said that about "Jane Eyre," but that's okay:) I know it's a highly polarizing story, but I've never been so swept away by a book as I was by this one. I think I've read it at least four times.

And there you have it! I'm sure I'm forgetting something major, but this is what I thought of in the 15 minute (more or less) time period.

Now you should all compile your own lists, because it was great fun! :)

Affirmation Inspired by Running into Pagan Philosophy Recently

This Sabbath morning I affirm that Jesus is the center, the goal, the point, the everything of life.

I affirm that living my life for Him is all that truly satisfies.

I affirm that living my life for myself is the path to destruction.

I affirm that loving others is worth it, even when it's hard.

I affirm that God has led me to where I am, and that He has a purpose for me here.

I affirm that God has a purpose for every human being, and that He is drawing individuals to Himself.

I affirm that the lies of the world about being "the captain of your fate" are just that - lies. It is impossible to control your life, and trying will lead to desperation and destruction.

I affirm that God is GOOD, and He is a completely trustworthy Captain of my fate. I would want no other.

I affirm that my heart is His, all over again, today.

First Week of Teaching!

My first week of teaching is now behind me (well, first week #6!), and it was a wonderful one. Here are some moments that stand out:

*Seeing the smile on the face of my new student - it's always a joy to win someone over.

*Seeing my freshmen and sophomores really take hold of the discussion based on Louis Markos' "From Achilles to Christ," and having one say "I feel like I'm being brainwashed!" Hahahaha - ohhhhh my dear, you have no idea...

*That same class, leading my kids through questioning to get at the root of the worldview problem of one of the books they read over the summer, and reaching that conclusion just as Mr. Bailey walked through the door. "THERE IS NO GOD!" exclaimed my student. "EXACTLY!" I enthusiastically affirmed.

*Introducing this year's play to my high school students, and having one of the seniors enthusiastically say "this is awesome," thereby setting the tone for the whole group.

*On the same occasion, hearing people totally adopting characters, from hand gestures to Brooklyn accents on the initial read-through.

*Having a student call for help on a Lit assignment, only to express fears about the new Algebra teacher, stating, "it seems like he's not really sure what he's doing. Is this true?!" and being able to assure him that the contrary was the case:)

*Confiding to my seniors that they were doing WAY better than my last class in their discussion of the Winthrop/Franklin dichotomy, and having them be very pleased.

*After having shown my students that I'd written "Classical Lit (best ever)" on my notebook, having them ask if I'd written the same thing for all the other classes, and being able to show them (to their GREAT glee) that I'd written "American Lit" and "7/8 Lit."

*Knowing that Classical Lit class will be able to live up to my expectations.

*Coming up with an inventive and enjoyable way to teach TYPING of all things...

*Loving, loving, loving my students.

*HAVING KIMBERLY WALKING THE HALLS WITH ME!!!!!!!

*And most of all (except for the Kimberly part... or maybe partly because of it), suddenly feeling, after over a year of not having felt it, that I couldn't WAIT for the next day of teaching.

Praise the Lord for His innumerable blessings!

Our New House!

Kimberly and I have now moved in to our delightful cottage on Aquidneck Island. Hurrah!

Well perhaps I should rephrase that to say that pretty much all of our stuff is somewhere in our house. Whether it's out of its box or not is another matter...

But we're loving it so far! And now that the friendly Cox guy has come and gone, and the other friendly Cox guy has come and gone (yes, we were a two Cox guy home), we have internet and can inform the world of our joy!

We've had some wonderful moments already, first thisses and first thats, and it has inspired us to keep a little notebook of our favorite moments in our home.

The first entry will have to be that first time we toured the house, where we were awestruck from the beginning, and then erupted into squeals and shrieks upon seeing the spiral-ish stairs leading up to Kimberly's room.

The second entry will doubtless be our zucchini dinner last week. I remember it that way because that was the day I snatched from the fridge what I thought was a cucumber, peeled it, sliced it, and served it as our cold vegetable, only to figure out later that the reason it was the strangest, most tasteless cucumber in the world is that it was a zucchini. But that, while humorous, is not what will get this dinner into our little record.

Due (so I hear) to a water main break, the water on our island tastes distinctly earthy. I purchased a Brita filter to make sure we didn't die, but some of the earthiness makes it through the filter at times.

Kimberly and I sat down to dinner, and I took a nice, cool drink of... dirt-water. Ew. "This water tastes like dirt!" I exclaimed. "Hm," said Kimberly, unphased.

I ate some food and took another drink. "This water tastes like dirt!" I exclaimed. Original, I know. "Yeah, that's weird," Kimberly patiently responded.

Chomp chomp slurrrrp gulp. "This water tastes like dirt!" I exclaimed. "Andrea, if you say that water tastes like dirt one more time, I'm going to throw this water at you," Kimberly responded adamantly, pointing to her oversized blue plastic cup.

Sip. "This water... That's all I'm going to say," I smirked. We sat there at the table in a profound silence, both casually pretending that we weren't thinking of any next step. I toyed with the "cucumbers" while Kimberly quietly casually glanced out at the birds in the rhododendron bush and tightened her grip on her cup.

"TASTES LIKE DIRT!" I shrieked, while simultaneously leaping from the table. SPLOOSH! The water hit me before the word dirt was out of my mouth. She'd been anticipating my action before I'd even decided to take it.

Ahhhh the laughter that ensued.

There was a Kodak commercial that used to play while I was in college, which showed a series of snapshots or something and sang the song, "Life is good when you've got your friends." (It might have said "when you got your friends," but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt...) I agree with Kodak, but I'd add a verse two:

Life is good when you've got your sister!

Of Vacations

Pilot once famously asked, "What is truth?"

I now ask (not quite so famously), "What is vacation?"

Or, more postmodernly, "What is vacation to you?"

I have an amazing ideal in my mind which every vacation tries to live up to: that of our family vacations at Uncle Joe's camp in Maine. We'd go up there, to the middle of nowhere, with banana boxes full of books and activities and projects. Then we'd stay at that little cabin for two or three weeks at a time, only venturing forth for yardsaling. We'd sleep as late as we wanted, then spend the day reading, swimming, reading, swimming, Daddy would read aloud at night while we worked on puzzles, and then we'd go back to our own books and read as late as we wanted. Occasionally this rhythm was punctuated (how's that for mixing metaphors!) by family games or a magic show or a birthday party (if we were there in mid-August). Absolute bliss.

So since then, my ideal vacation has been one in which there is limitless time in which to do... NOTHING. There are no responsibilities, no schedule, not even any people (family doesn't count). But there's lots of time time time to read read read or do whatever strikes my fancy (like blog!).

Recently I was stating this to a friend who was surprised by this reality. For her the ideal vacation includes lots of traveling around and seeing people. While working, she's pretty home-bound, so when vacation hits, she wants to be up and doing ("with a heart for any fate"), seeing friends all over the place.

HUH!

So there you have it: another instance of different strokes for different folks, I guess. What about for you?

Hiking & Me

I look up to people like Wordsworth and the Bronte sisters, as well as Gerry Anderson. These people all have one thing in common: they were/are into things like hikes and walking tours. Emily Bronte rambled all over those wild moors, Wordsworth and his sister traversed the woods of the Wye River, Gerry climbs anything over 2000 feet. There's something rugged and adventurous about it - something inspiring in the thought.

And yet, this summer, I have come face to face with the incontrovertible fact that I would rather do almost anything else in the world rather climb another mountain. Ever. Except bungee jump or sky dive.

As I trudged up the slopes of Gap Mountain (which is about 10 feet high), I realized that trudging is not my favorite. Not even the most amazing view in the world can make the toiling worthwhile. I don't like walking. I definitely don't like climbing. And I pretty much loath gasping for air.

So my similarities with the Bronte sisters will have to end with the world-famous novel I'm about to write. My similarity with Wordsworth will have to remain in our mutual admiration of Tintern Abbey, and my similarity with Gerry will have to be......... ummmmmmmmm......................... our musc... nope, our ability to rhy.... nope, our leadership in the men's dor..... nooope, our sanguine perso.... nope, our attendance of Fairwood Bible Chapel. Yessss.

And yet, despite these strong statements, every six years or so I decide it's time to toil up the slopes of Mt. Monadnock again. Strange. They do say, though, that your cells renew themselves often enough that you're an entirely new person every five years. So I guess that explains it (along with one bonus year to gear myself up).

It must be six years since I climbed Mt. Monadnock, because today I was game for Ravenswood Park, where my family and I took the trails by storm. The walk was enjoyable, partly because of the amazing boulders everywhere and the lovely trees, and partly because of the view of Gloucester Harbour from the top. And the slope was definitely my speed at about a one foot incline per half mile (except for near the top of the trail). Plus the company was excellent, and we were all in the mood to laugh.

So I took care of that for another six years or so. See you in 2016, Mt. Monadnock!

New Summer's Resolution

This past year, while full and exciting in some ways, was also a little much for me, and I found myself stressed out and bleh a lot of the time. I started wondering who this new grump was, and where the old me had gone. And so, when the school year came to an end, I decided to set myself a goal of learning to love life again.

My friend Karen, when I was telling her about this, asked how I planned to accomplish this goal and I set myself a few objectives:

1) Spend more time with God
2) Spend more time with people I love
3) Spend more time with books
4) Spend less time with tv/movies

Here's an update on these objectives:

1) Unexpectedly doing the Girls' Week again was a great blessing, because as I reminded the girls how important it is to cultivate that hidden, unseen depth with God every day, it was an excellent reminder to myself. As is often the case, I think I got more out of the GW than the girls did! Richness has ensued.

2) Summer is a wonderful time for FRIENDS! So far I've been to Concord with Linds, VT with my family, had Katie and Diane to my Portsmouth house, saw lots of gems at the Fam Convention, and am currently road tripping it up with Diane, visiting with such treasures as the Vaughan Posts, Nate & Penny, Brad & Claire, and Grace!

3) War and Peace. Ohhhhhhh yeah.

4) Haven't touched hulu in weeks! :)

So how is this all working out for the loving life thing, you may ask. VERY WELL, I would respond. The most important things are getting their proper attention, and everything else is falling into place. I'm recharging, and remembering how good life can be. Of course, being on summer vacation isn't hurting!

Viva vacation!

Writing Skills (and I do mean skills!)

Recently in my 7th and 8th grade writing skills class, I wanted to attack the daunting task of literary analysis (how to write about books). But I didn't want to take the time to read anything very long - I wanted to just dive into some tips on writing. Therefore, I decided to have them analyze shorter works. Children's books, to be precise. I had them tackle such classics as "Go Dog, Go" and "The Cat in the Hat." I told them to be super intellectual and make up deeper meanings and such. I was incredibly pleased with some of the results, and want to share some highlights.

Paper 1:
"Bears on Wheels" by Stan and Jan Berenstain, is a unique, contemplative novel, about a group of bears who have encounters with a variety of life-changing experiences with wheels. Even though this story may seem like a cute children's story that has been read and enjoyed by children all over the world, through many generations, it also was written for an important purpose. Through "Bears on Wheels," the Berenstains engage in an armed conflict with the popularized view of the Renaissance."

Wowwwww. Have you read that book?! The basic text is "One bear, one wheel. Three bears, two wheels," and has pictures of collisions and such. Armed conflict with Renaissance ideas? Not bad, not bad!

Paper 2:
"Go, Dog. Go!" was written sometime before 1961 when it was published by Random House Inc. P.D.Eastman..strongly believes that unity brings out the best in people, and separation only leads to sadness and bad relationships with others. Eastman was not a transcendentalist."

Awwwww yeah, Eastman was anti-transcendentalism. Not too shabby! :) Of course, I don't think he himself even knew that, by my 7th grader sure figured it out...

Paper 3:
The renowned childrens' book "The Cat in the Hat" by Dr. Seuss, under great speculation, is shown to contain more than just rhymes. In fact, Dr. Suess is trying to say that we all have a Cat in the Hat within us: a daring inner turmoil that breaks loose when trying to find something to do on a rainy day. This Cat in the Hat, that is part of the nature of man, likes to release a wild childlike behavior. As Seuss says, 'I will pick up the book. You will see something new. Two things, and I call them Thing One and Things Two' (Seuss,33). These proverbial "things" unleash a freedom inside us that seems nice at first, but can destroy many items with simple shenanigans.

Hahaha - awesome.

Of course, I realize I'm setting up a difficult scenario for myself in future years with these students. As it is, students already tend to question whether an author meant all the things that literature teachers say they meant... I distinctly remember sitting in a high school class, thinking my teacher was totally making things up that the poet probably had no idea of while he was writing. I also remember one of my students saying something about how he was going to write a story in which there was no deeper meaning at all, and just see what lit teachers did with it.

But I pointed out to them that we were just practicing with these children's books, and making things up that may not really be there (although more is probably there than they're aware of!) but that when you're dealing with the great authors of history, like Shakespeare, and Melville, and Milton, those deeper meanings absolutely are there, which is what makes them so great!

So we'll see if, in three or four years, I have succeeded in making students thirsty for the depths of literature, or if they just figure it's all made up, like their analyses of children's books. Whatever the result in the future, the short-term results of the assignment made me laugh - and that, after all, is what's most important.

This and That in March

*One of my dear students was chosen as athlete of the week in the Newport Daily News! Yeah! Not only is it a great (and deserved) honor for him, but it also puts our name out there in a new way. Good for all!

*One of my most difficult - no, the most difficult - of students from the beginning of the year is fast becoming one of my favorites. I don't think I've ever seen such a marked difference in one person's life in such a short amount of time. He waved across the gym at me last week and it made me leap to my feet and exclaim about it being the best day ever! :)

*I washed about 10 hours worth of dishes over the past week... My choir is putting on a dinner theater thingy, and anyone who isn't performing is roped in to do the dishes and waitressing and stuff. Yeahhhhh. But it was actually quite enjoyable, and included some quality chatting time. Also I was chosen by the head guy to carve the pork. The honors just don't stop rolling in.

* I was teaching the other day when I heard my headmaster let out a mighty howl in the next room. One of my students leaped to his feet saying he would go save him, but I told him to sit back down, and appeased his fear (and my curiosity) by telling him I'd go check it out myself. I popped my head in the door of the room where he was, and he looked over and saw me and said, "Oh don't YOU even THINK about looking in here!" Hahahaahahah - I guess I really have no leg to stand on as far as noise pollution at school...

* This morning I was racing out to my car, late as usual, when I discovered a nearly flat tire. I know it has a slow leak, but I try to stay ahead of it. Apparently I had fallen behind. So I gave up any thoughts of timeliness, and headed for the gas station. I put in my 4 quarters, and the air compressor fired up. So far, so good. But I couldn't make the air come out! I thought it might be a kink in the hose, so I untangled it, but still no air flow. Ay ay ay. Finally I realized there was a little button you had to push. I pushed it down, heard the cheery whoosh, and then, silence. I'd run out of time and the compressor had turned itself off. I'd just let out a "you've got to be kidding," when the gas station attendant came out and not only started it for free, but filled the tire himself. Awwww. Still, I would have much preferred doing it myself. And then I started wondering if acts of service are not only at the bottom of my love language list, but are actually crossing into my hate language list! Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Very interesting.

* And on that note, I must go consume my tea before it gets cold.

Andrea Loves February Vacation!

This has been a wonderful vacation, thus far. I find it amazing how quickly vacations can slip away, and how little I remember of them. So I will now chronicle some of my doings so I can look back and see what a rich vacation I had.

So far February vacation has held:
* a birthday party (for a lady I met through teaching) which resulted in some great literature conversations
* a Valentine's Day spent with Lindsay, living it up and enjoying ourselves thoroughly on the NH coast
* being HOME - the most restful and secure place on earth - and having time with Dad & Mom
* guest teaching nephews - British Lit and British history - my two favorite subjects! And what GREAT students they were! I'm impressed...
* Working on grant writing for school - I've put in one or two hours every day on this, and while it is NOT my comfort zone (it's about as far from Brit Lit as you can get), still I have an immense feeling of satisfaction having nearly completed two grant requests. Plus, four of the five hours I've worked on it have been at my favorite Dublin haunt: the Dublin coffee shop!
* READING! I just don't have huge chunks of reading time very often these days, and I've been really enjoying Sir Walter Scott's "Kenilworth." Shakespeare and Spenser make appearances for pete's sake!
*Time with friends: movies and Olympics with Diane and Kate, as well as birthday bowling with a crowd to celebrate Craig's upcoming birthday.
*Sleeeeeeeeeeep - ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
* Seeing the beautiful snow. Snow is prettiest around here...
* 9:00 hour - Brandon had an especially good service on "Jesus Only" yesterday.
* Even exercise (but not to extremes - it is vacation, after all!)
* And let's not forget blogging!

What a great, full vacation it's been so far. Now I need to go soak in the refreshment of an empty house, a hot drink, and a good book.

Viva Feb Break!

Ironic sighting of the day...

On facebook someone I don't know (and neither do you) commented: "People used to call Kevin and I the Grammar Patrol when we were dating."

It kind of makes me wonder what mistakes I make...

In other news, the chances of my surviving this week went up exponentially when I found out WE HAVE A SNOW DAY TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!

Things I Never Guessed about Teachers until I Became One

A teacher's mood has a distinct effect on the way she grades an essay. She's much more likely to let things slide on a good day...

Students who actually try hard all the time are rare, and the few who do are really appreciated.

One little "this is dumb" is sometimes interpreted as "you are a complete failure, and your life's work amounts to nothing."

A student who makes a mental leap all on his own, such as the one made today in my 7/8 Lit class, is like a life ring out of that meaninglessness.

The end of the quarter is incredibly stressful, since everything that has been procrastinated on (i.e. grading) is suddenly due all at once.

Teachers actually talk about more than teaching in the teacher's lounge.

"What do you think?" sometimes means "I'm going to stall for time while I think up a good answer."

Other times it means the teacher has a rock-solid answer, but wants to give you the joy of figuring it out on your own.

She's probably not going to let you know which.

Teaching takes a ton of emotional energy because teachers actually care a LOT about how their students do.

It's totally worth it.

Books Read in 2009

Sooo, Derrick's list (of HUNDREDS) of books read inspired me to publish mine as well. I love book lists! So here, in chronological order by date completed, are the books I read last year:

1. That Hideous Strength - CS Lewis
2. Home to Holly Springs - Jan Karon
3. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
4. The Cathedral - Hugh Walpole
5. Hannah Coulter - Wendell Barry
6. Gentian Hill - Elizabeth Goudge
7. Rest and Be Thankful - Helen McInnes
8. The Mysterious Benedict Society - Trenton Lee Stewart
9. The Return of Jeeves - PG Wodehouse
10. Let Sleeping Vets Lie - James Herriot
11. The Rosary - Florence Barclay
12. The Mistress of Shenstone - Florence Barclay
13. Breakheart Pass - Alistair McLean
14. The Last of the Mohicans - James Fenimore Cooper
15. Ethan Frome - Edith Wharton
16. Miss Marple Short Stories - Agatha Christie
17. The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
18. The House of Mirth - Edith Wharton
19. Kilmany of the Orchard - LM Montgomery
20. Barnaby Rudge - Charles Dickens
21. Carry On, Jeeves - PG Wodehouse
22. The Scarlet Letter - Nathaniel Hawthorne
23. A City of Bells - Elizabeth Goudge
24. Howard's End - EM Forster

What a great year! And in typing all of those I kept wanting to comment. So here's my commentary.

Firstly, I blame Tolstoy and Dickens for the shortness of my list:) But they were worth it.

Secondly, I think my favorites of the year were The Cathedral, The Rosary, The House of Mirth, A City of Bells, The Scarlet Letter and Howard's End, two of which are perfectly happy, another two of which only attain a "troubled joy" (in the words of Nathaniel Hawthorne), and the remaining two of which are downright tragic. Eeeenteresting... I have yet to fully understand my love affair with sad books.

Thirdly, in my humble opinion I think I have attained a good balance of light and heavy reading:) But that, of course, is by my definition of heavy (anything written before 1900 - haha).

I was skeptical of Wendell Barry at first, but by the end I LOVED that book. He totally won me over. I would have added him to my list of favorites, but I already had a quarter of the total book list on there!

I didn't read anything I didn't like, although the Dickens book, which started out incredibly, dragged a little in the middle. But it redeemed itself in the end again:)

I'm really looking forward to teaching The Great Gatsby.

The Mysterious Benedick Society was the BEST children's book EVER! Really a young adult book, probably, I found it captivating and utterly winning even as a 29 year old.

Speaking of 29 year olds, both The Rosary and The House of Mirth featured a 29 year old heroine. I thought that was pretty cool.

Hurrah for reading! Now I'm all inspired about what to read this year. I'm planning to start Kenilworth by Sir Walter Scott tonight. I've only read Ivanhoe, and that MANY years ago, and I just really really want to like his writing since I adore him as a person of history:)

Taking Equality to a Whole New Level

It has come to my attention that there is a form of discrimination that has been going on for far too long, with disastrous effects. It has not been broadcast in the media, there have been no marches on Washington, and as far as I know, no one has had any dreams regarding a new equality on this front.

Until now.

Six score years ago, a great European, whose name I do not know, brought us the modern guitar. This momentous development came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of prospective players of the instrument. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.

But one hundred years later, the guitar player still is not free. Over one hundred years later, the life of the guitar player is still sadly crippled by the manacles of small hands and the chains of weak hand muscles. Over one hundred years later, the guitar player lives on a lonely island of simple three or four string chords in the midst of a vast ocean of bar chords. Over one hundred years later, the guitar player is still languishing in the corners of American musicality and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.

My friend Lindsay began on her guitar playing quest, one that would no doubt lead to fame and fortune, only to discover that her beautiful little hands were too small to manage the G chord. And only this morning, in my attempt to manage a song realized that I do not have strong enough hands to manage a slide from a barred A flat to a barred G.

It would be fatal for the guitars of our nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This winter of the small/weak handed guitar player's legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating spring of freedom and equality. Two thousand nine is not an end, but a beginning. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the small/weak handed guitar player is granted his playing rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

I say to you today, my friends, that even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day guitars will rise up and live out the truth: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all hands are created equal."

I have a dream that one day on the stages Georgia the sons of small handed people and the sons of large handed people will be able to jam together at the music stand of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the stages of Mississippi, a state laboring under the handicap of weak hands. will be transformed into an oasis of bar chords and slides.

I have a dream today.

Inspiring isn't it?! I'm sure that this dream of mine will send all guitars immediately into sensitivity training, weeping over their discrimination. They will see the error of their ways, and somehow magically transform into a shape (while retaining their original sound and look, of course) that all hand sizes and strengths can play.

Or..... maybe I should just practice more.

Do I Believe this or Don't I?

Recently I have been so blessed in considering the trustworthiness of God. I can trust Him with everything, whether small (like a minor crisis making me late for school) or big (like my future, or, sometimes even more worrisome, the futures of loved ones). It all comes down to a simple matter of faith: do I believe that God is truly in control, or don't I?

I guess I'm kind of having a Renaissance in my soul on the whole issue of applying faith to everyday life. It's so easy to see a problem and instantly start thinking about what should happen or what I can do. But really I need to go straight to God and then see the problem from His perspective.

And I think this is what the Bible is talking about when it says "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee." If I am really keeping my mind on Him I will not get completely bent out of shape if my weekend plans fall through. They fell through? Well so what? Apparently God had something better in mind. Or even if the plans fell through wrongly, didn't God promise to work all things together for good?

Sometimes I want to mull things over, because they seem like they're big enough to warrant mulling. I should feel an amount of depression directly proportional to the magnitude of the disaster. But that's not how God intends me to face life. I am to be abiding in Him, and He is love, and perfect love casts out fear.

I am to live in that "neither know we what to do, but our eyes are on You" kind of way. Looking to Him is what gives me the proper perspective on things.

These things have been percolating in my mind for awhile, and I was so delighted recently when, frustrated to the limit with one of my classes, and on the verge of complaining to a sympathetic source, I felt checked and reminded to pray instead. And what a wonderful day it ended up being.

God knows, He's in control, and He doesn't expect us to carry everything and figure it out for ourselves. We, like children, can simply look trustingly to Him for the answer, with an assurance that He will work everything exactly according to His GOOD will.

I believe it!

Choir Ladies

So I'm starting to really love some of the women I sing with in my community chorus. They are treasures!

First of all, there's Claire, a very elderly woman whose husband passed away last year. We sat next to each other the other week, and she started talking about the travels she and her husband had gone on through the years. They went all over the place! We had a connecting moment talking about how you can feel such a strong connection with the land your forebears came from. Suddenly I realized this was one of those "The Next Fine Day" kindred spirits, and I brought her a copy of the book the next week. This week she told me she had started the book and was really enjoying it. I knew it!

Then there's Mary. I'm pretty sure she has to be a Christian. She has that spirit about her. She was also a teacher for many years! I feel like she understands it all. In our pre-singing backrubs (best part of rehearsals!) she began rubbing my back and exclaimed, "Uh oh! Teacher's back." I was mystified until she explained it was tight. She definitely gets it.

Another of my favorites is Ada. She joked, when I was first meeting her last year, that I could remember her name by the little rhyme "Ada Potatah," which is what they used to call her in school. Sure enough, I've never forgotten her name! She is a little less of the sweet old lady, a little more of the spunky old lady (I don't think she's really all that old, but you know...). She reminds me of one of my very favorite college professors (Curren, Gretchen) so I love her.

And lastly, and one of the best, is... um... I don't remember her name. Hm. Well anyway, I love her! Her husband was a PC grad, so we talk PC every once in awhile. Love that. She's a little tougher of a lady, and doesn't mind rejoicing aloud when the director ends up cutting the rehearsal short. But she's not rude - she doesn't let too many people hear the joy, especially not the director. She is a polished sort of rough, if that makes sense. Anyway, she's down to earth, with a great sense of humor.

Who knew that choir would provide such great people to interact with! I like this island more and more...

Narcissism is a cool word

Thanks, Greeks. Also I like Caligula (as a word, not a person) and Mellifluous (which I heard on sports radio today!).

But back to the title word...

I was reading over past blogs that I've written, and found myself laughing right out loud. I was absolutely killing myself! Hmmm. Of course, one post I laughed especially hard at was one recounting funny things family members had said. But one of those that made me laugh hardest was something I'd said. I guess no one understands my sense of humor as well as I do, so it makes sense I suppose. Still, it struck me as slightly... well... all the words I'm thinking of are too hard on myself, but you get the idea.

And then I realized the other day that every time I hear a horn beep outside my apartment I assume someone is saying hello to me. Me! This despite the fact that there are about 6 other houses in the near vicinity that could be being beeped at, not to mention countless RI drivers who all deserve a good beep now and then.

I guess it's all a result of the Fall - this inward-looking perspective. But it's nice that being so taken up with self keeps me amused and entertained. Another element of the 'felix culpa' I suppose.

Haha - that cracks me up with its ludicrousness! Yup - still laughing at my own sense of humor.

Good grief.

Happy Birthday, Kimberly!

Today is my little sister's 25th birthday! And on this august occasion, I'd like to say that I love her ridiculously much. In fact, I love her in a very special way - a way that is hers alone. She is, after all, the only little sister in the world that is mine! So I love her in this wonderful friend kind of way, but also a protective kind of way... an interesting combination that comes out to something pretty profound.

I'm not sure when the protective thing started. Perhaps it was the time that she was traumatized by a fire alarm in first grade. I was a mighty sixth grader at the time, and was now getting up to my own alarm. Sadly, my alarm went off for the first time the morning after the traumatic fire alarm, and sounded a lot like said fire alarm. I can practically hear her trembling little voice coming from the bunk below me, and I quickly assured her everything was okay, and she should go back to sleep. Maybe that's when it started, or some occasion like that. Or maybe it's just part of being a big sister. All I know is that I want to watch out for her, even now that she's all grown up. She'll always be my little sister.

Yet at the same time, she has become a peer. I so clearly remember one of our first conversations that went beyond just the sister relationship to the friend relationship. We were visiting the Demmes, and had been out on their boat. On the boat ride home, after dark, the two of us sat up in the bow, and talked about life and faith and grown-up things. From that day to this our friendship has only grown. She is so much fun, and I just love doing things with her or being around her. Being home together is one of the happiest things in my life.

And in some ways, she ends up taking care of me. Perhaps she knows a little bit about what it's like to be a big sister, even though she's the youngest:) In any case, she reminds me of things, and helps me keep organized. But more than that, she is coming into a wisdom and maturity all her own. Just a few months ago I called her in a moment of frustration with teaching, and knew that she would listen sympathetically, but also say something that would help me past that hurdle. Sure enough, she did, and I went back into the school (I'd called from my car on my lunch break) ready to take on the afternoon.

So whether she's the baby sister, the friend, or the peer, she is an amazing girl, about whom I could go on and on and on (I haven't even touched on her passion for God, her awesome sense of humor, her sense of adventure, her love for cowboys - heh heh - or a multitude of other things that make her who she is!), and I'm glad to wish her a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Awed

I was driving along down the road on the way home from doing about a bazillion errands, and glanced down to see the ocean through the trees. Suddenly I was just so happy that I am here - living on an island! How cool is that?

And then, as I was thanking God for letting me be here, I thought about how amazing it is that I'm in this place.

This was one of those things I never could have seen coming. As a little girl thinking about my future I had no idea that such a place as Newport even existed.

And then, when I did become aware of its existence (through the Coronet connection) it was just a really cool tourist-y place.

When my friends and I decided to visit Newport for a day and asked directions to Applebees and traveled over completely unknown roads to get there, I couldn't have possible foreseen that I would travel those roads every single day on the way to school before much longer.

And when I was sitting in my office outside of Dr. Delasanta's. checking out yellowpages.com for Christian Schools in RI, I had no idea of the incredible joy that was in store for me in the school that I would find - the only one needing a high school lit teacher.

And now, here I am, at the best possible school, with the best possible students, in the best possible apartment, in my own beloved New England.

INCREDIBLE!

And it just makes me realize that God leads us even when we don't know we're being led. Yellowpages.com? Really? And here I am... So I don't need to worry about what the future holds. I know God is completely in control, that He will get me to the places I need to be, and that things that happen now will fit me for whatever is coming in the future. He's got it!

Treebeard would have liked me

I love old things. Especially old trees. I'm not usually a sympathizer with leftist ideals, but tree hugging is one I'm growing into.

I've liked them as long as I can remember, but there was a sharp spike on the liking-old-trees chart when one of the maples on the Front Lawn had to be cut down. That tree was a part of my childhood. We played Run Sheep Run and Chipmunks in its shade. It was there that Jenny told me she liked the name "Ransome" (random, but true). One summer evening I sat under that tree playing my guitar in a romantic sort of a mood (romantic like Wordsworth, not like Romeo and Juliet).

Anyway, this summer it had to come down, and I was sad.

And now I have this new reverence for old trees. You can't just go out and plant an old tree. They don't just happen. They have to have been happening for a hundred years or more. And where there is an old tree there is a distinct sense of history and security and character and roots and, well, oldness.

There's a spot near my RI house where there's a row of old trees intermingled with nearly-old ones. It makes me so happy, because I realize that someone else appreciated the existence of old trees, and planted new ones amongst the old so that they could grow up and take the place of the old ones when it was their turn to go.

And that was a source of consolation. At least if old trees have to go, there are people who will plant more trees that will one day be old. At least there is permanence in the cyclical nature of things...

And now, I need to go waste some paper or drive my terrible-gas-mileage car around. I love old trees, but I have a conservative reputation to uphold!