Yeahhhhh...

This evening my choir sang at a wedding. It wins the distinguished title of "strangest wedding I've ever been to," and I have been to some non-Fairwood weddings...

This one included a lovely reading from the Native American commandments. Huh? I didn't even know they had commandments. They included things like "Remain close to the Great Spirit, in all that you do" and "Treat the Earth and all that dwell thereon with respect." Okaaaay.

Then we had the vows: "I will wipe your tears with my hands" and "I will introduce you to my soul." Riiiiight.

The crowning moment was the African wedding blessing that included "may your teeth be white for smiling." I found out later that the groom has done commercials for teeth whitener. Hahahaha.

Ay ay ay. We're not in Fairwood anymore, Toto!

Up and Running!

Hurrah! For the first time since moving to my Portsmouth apartment, thanks to Shawn's excellent counsel (he's the best!), I have internet access! Now I can blog to my heart's content. Ahhhhhh.

And now, my heart is content and I'm going to get some food so my tummy will be content...

Katie and Me (and our grand adventure)

This morning Katie called. She had lots to do and wondered if I wanted to take a vacation day with her. I, who had less to do, nevertheless exuberantly agreed. Into the car we jumped and zoomed away.

We had a fabulous day at the mall (where I used my leftover vacation money to buy my favorite perfume! mmmmmm!) and (mostly) in Portsmouth! I'd never really been there to visit, and we had such a good time being touristy. It is a BEAUTIFUL town - awesome buildings, and lovely light (at least today it was). And on the way home we were able to stop for dinner with Linds which was a blast (everyone needs to see how awesome she is as a biker!).

But the bloggerific adventures came with the toll booth. Booths.

I have moved more and more away from cash, and so, apparently, has Katie. Consequently, as we approached the toll on the way to Portsmouth, we were both scrambling. Fortunately, we discovered the toll was only 75 cents, and I had that on me.

On the way HOME from Portsmouth, however, we were shocked to see the toll was TWO DOLLARS! I definitely had 75 more cents, but two dollars?! Yikes. I emptied out every last penny from my wallet, and went diving amongst the sundry inhabitants of the ash tray, while Katie dived into her wallet to sort out yen, shekelim, and dimes. (We knew there was one dime there because we had flipped it to see whether we should go to Gloucester or Portsmouth... and since that worked so well went on to decide other major life choices like whether Katie should convert to Catholicism.) We managed to scrape together two dollars, and handed the toll booth attendant a handful of change.

She looked old enough that she wouldn't get my humor, and grumpy enough that she wouldn't get anyone's, or I would have briefly alluded to the mayhem that had so recently ended. As it was I gave a cheery "thank you!" (which is weird, actually - why would I thank someone for taking my hard-sought-after money from me?) and drove off, careening wildly through traffic to get to my side of the road...

...where I was shortly greeted with a "Welcome to Massachusetts" sign. WHA....???? Oy vay. I had been so engrossed in our conversation about how awesome the skirts are that we bought at a lovely second hand shop in Portsmouth, that I had totally missed the sign for 101.

Gulp. I cleverly avoided getting detoured onto 495, and managed a turn-around. And LO... we had to go through ANOTHER toll! I was sure that if you went through a toll, after which you were supposed to take an exit, that upon turning around you would hit the exit before the toll. But no. Those Eastern New Hampshirites are tricky! And so we, with out wallets empty of pennies, let alone quarters, were forced to take the "last exit before toll" in order to go to an ATM to get money for the toll booth.

Oh the ignominy.

Especially considering there was a $2 fee for using the ATM.

Back onto the highway we got, and found the exit for 101... right BEFORE the toll booth! "A lying sign!" I shrieked. But no, I should never underestimate the Eastern New Hampshirites. There was a toll at the end of the exit. Phew. The ATM venture had not been in vain.

And before I get 47 comments telling me I should keep more money in my ash tray, I will say that I had more in there, but Kimberly was going to bike to the lake to go swimming, and I, in my best Kendra-esque fashion (hee hee j slash k Kendra!) figured she would probably drown if she went swimming alone, so I decided to drive down and sit on the shore ready to plunge in with my great life-saving skills, but I passed her at the golf course (I imagined the worst earlier than Kendra), and realized I'd have a long time to wait at the lake, and decided to go to the General Store and get a drink because I was really thirsty and it was hot, but I didn't have my wallet in the car since I was just driving to the lake, so I checked the ash tray and found money and used that, as well as the shoes I found in my back seat. So that's why I didn't have toll money.

I found out later that the toll is only 75 cents if you don't miss your exit and go to MA, so that was some consolation at least. I guess. Maybe.

Sigh.

Wharton (as in Edith) and Me

So I just picked up a book I've been I-should-probably-read-that-ing for years now: Edith Wharton's The House of Mirth. Oh my word. I was in love by about page two. It's providential that I waited this long to read the book, because its heroine is a 29-year-old single girl (which is what I am, for those of you who don't mark off my birthday on your calendar each year)!

Now I am loathe, in a way, to bring up the subject of singlehood, because I have a touch of angst (touch of angst?) about people pitying me. So I'll just tuck in here that I'm extremely happy teaching ... love my students ... love my friends and family... fulfilled... blah blah blah. There. Done. No need to pity me. (Although not wanting to be pitied is probably a form of pride. Eeeek! Remorse! Okay, that's all taken care of. Now on with the post!)

This woman is awesome. Both the author and the heroine. My favorite humorous quote thus far is by the heroine, Lily Bart: "Younger and plainer girls had been married off by dozens, and she was nine-and-twenty, and still Miss Bart. She was beginning to have fits of angry rebellion against fate, when she longed to drop out of the race and make an independent life for herself."

Hee hee hee! So very human-nature-y! Um. Just as a note. When I shrieked with inward delight upon reading this, I did not have ANYONE pop into my head at the 'younger and plainer' part, so all of you married people reading this, I was not thinking of you! (Good grief, this post has more provisos than actual writing...)

Also of great interest to me is that while I can understand Miss Bart (except for some of the class issues she is dealing with), the last reader (whom I think might have been Danny) marked some of the passages with great censure. I read one paragraph that revealed Miss Bart's intentions of playing the system until it paid off for her, and I was internally nodding in understanding of the human nature there (not necessarily the sanctification!) when I got to the bottom of the page where the previous reader had written "Hideous." Hahaha - whether or not Danny is the one who wrote it, I think it must have been a male. It's easier to sympathize (if not always agree) with Miss Bart if you are (more or less) in her shoes (barring the fact that hers probably cost 14X more than mine). (What did people do before parentheses were invented?!)

My favorite thought-provoking quote was uttered by the hero, Seldon, whom I hope Lily marries (although I'm sure she won't, because this is, after all, Edith Wharton writing - author of both Ethan Frome and the quote: "Life is the saddest thing, next to death." Yeah, I'm guessing there won't be a happy ending there). He is philosophizing about success: "My idea of success is personal freedom." "Freedom? [Lily asks] Freedom from worries?" "From everything - from money, from poverty, from ease and anxiety, from all the material accidents. To keep a kind of republic of the spirit - that's what I call success."

It's a kind of stoicism, I suppose, and not completely sound, but still I was impressed by the idea of the republic of the spirit. With a slight tweak it can become quite the Christian idea of not being taken up with the things of this world... and learning "in whatsoever state I am therewith to be content." I like it.

And so, with great contentment, I go back to my reading of Edith Wharton's masterpiece. I'll try to let you know later whether I really recommend it. I am, after all, only on page 88.

A Thing that I Realized

I really hate it when people complain about Fairwood water. I just do. I hate it when people complain about anything/anyone I love, or indeed, have anything to do with, but it really irks me when it comes to Fairwood water.

Conversely, anyone who sticks up for it wins a place forever in my heart!

Now this is not to say that I think Fairwood water is all good. I think the Main House is good, and my house is good. I cannot say the same for the Lodge or Women's Dorm.

But this doesn't change the fact that it bugs me when people complain about it.

It's like that whole "I can pick on my little brother, but I'll beat you up if you do" kind of mentality, I guess.

I also hate when people complain about people complaining...

Bryant (as in, William Cullen) and Me

I am going to be teaching American Lit next year, and have been studying up on it (since I only took one Am Lit class in college, as opposed to 8 Brit Lit ones!). I found an awesome Literary History of the United States at our very own Dublin Public Library, and have been tooling down there several evenings to take notes out of it (it's reference only).

My latest excursion into literary history saw me crossing paths with William Cullen Bryant (in whom "New England found its authentic voice," by the way), who, it turns out, was fascinated by change - or, as he called it "the eternal procession of mankind." In his old age he talked about how one should approach the grave:

"Go serenely, with an unfaltering trust in 'the never-ending Flood of Years,' a trust in that 'eternal Change' which unites all men, all times, and all events in everlasting Concord."

I nearly threw up my hands and ran screaming from the library. Trust in that eternal Change?! Are you KIDDING ME?!?!??!

Silly William. (Or, more poetically, Silly Billy!)

I was reading this shortly after reliving my old glory days of anti-change-ism, brought about when I discovered that one of the beautiful maples on the front lawn had to be cut down after the ravages of last year's ice storm. I was sad. I do not like things that have been "permanent" since childhood disappearing.

I'm happy to report that it doesn't look nearly as hole-y as I was afraid it would look. The other tree does a masterful job of covering for its absence. Still, it was one of several changes that made me reflect on how much I don't like change.

Silly Billy.

And how thankful I am that I don't have to trust in change! I mean, I admit that it's very faithful in its re-occurrences (sigh), but who wants to trust in something that is painful and grim? That's like saying we should trust in death because, boy howdy, we'll all die.

I'd rather trust in something that's better than change, and better than death! Something BIGGER, and more SOLID, and... UNCHANGING.

And I do. I, Andrea Murray, have totally one-up-ed the authentic voice of New England. I guess that means I am the authentic voice of New England!

(And on that note, you'll all be glad to hear that I won't be teaching Logic next year, as a co-worker needed to add more classes...)

Lessons Learned (and Learning)

After publishing the "Come Now" post, I immediately started thinking of hypothetical people sitting in their hypothetical living rooms, judging me. "Ohhhh, that's just what she's telling herself. She's going to burn out eventually, and find her whole life was a big sham." I got a bit annoyed with the hypothetical people and their nerve in assuming they know anything about me and how I live my life. And then I was reminded of a conversation I had with TJ not too long ago.

We were driving up to Fairwood (prime conversation time, as long as one of us isn't planning on the time to get work done), and chatting about this and that. We got talking about differences of standards and such, and I said, "I just hate that other people might think that I'm judging them, because I'm not!" And he replied, "Isn't it kind of judging them to think that they're thinking of you as judging them?" I was quite taken aback, and have thought of it often since then.

My job isn't to think about how other people are perceiving me, or "judging" me. My job is just to live my life as God has led me, and not worry about what other people think that I'm thinking. How ridiculous is it to worry about what other people think that I'm thinking about them?! It takes "fear of man" to a whole new level. Good grief.

So the lesson to me was (and continues to be) digging a little deeper into what it means to walk "before the face of God." I need to be living for Him, and following His commandment to love God and love my neighbor. Anything beyond that is simply none of my business.

I just need to keep my eyes fixed on Him! Let those hypothetical living room dwellers think what they may...

Come Now...

...When did it become such a crime to be a people pleaser?

In defense of people pleasers the world over, I'd like to make two statements:

#1. People pleasing is not wrong. It's okay to think of others!
#2. I do have a backbone. I can say no if I need to.

And no, no recent episode made me need to state this:) I've just been thinking of it off and on recently, and was scrambling for something to blog about. I decided on the short version of this post in order to, you know, not displease people.

Summer Vacation Begins!

Now that my major responsibility (Girls Week) is behind me (and, by the way, it was the best GW yet!), my summer vacation has officially begun!!!

How, you may ask, will I fill the 48 days I have stretching before me?

Perhaps I shall go horseback riding, or attend a baby shower, or try out some zip-lining, or host a tea party for my high school girls, or canoe the Concord River to see the "rude bridge that arched the flood," or stay in a B&B in the White Mountains, or eat at the world's best pancake house, or consume vast amounts of American Lit (ha! you thought I was going to say pancakes, didn't you?), or zip over to 6 flags for a day, or go to a surprise birthday party, or get together with my juniors and seniors before my senior leaves for college, or check out Robert Frost's home, or visit The Hills, or have my 8th grade over for a game night...

Or maybe I'll choose option D, all of the above! Wheeee haw!

Re: Robert Frost. I have decided that a noble ambition for an English teacher would be to visit at least one author's home each year. Here is my list thus far:
2006 - Louisa May Alcott
2007 - Shakespeare, Bronte sisters
2008 - Longfellow
2009 (projected) - Robert Frost (and I'll probably go to Hawthorne's for American Lit...)

Yay for New England (and Old England)! Way to be historic!

Reflections on a Southern Friendship

I was listening to some guy on the radio recently, and he was talking about a friend he'd had for (gasp) over ten years! He was talking about it like it was a rare thing - something noteworthy. And I realized that it really is rare in many cases. People make friends in school, then leave them to go to college. Then they make friends in college and leave them to go to work. Work friends come and go. Neighbors come and go. A friend that lasts from childhood to adulthood is unusual.

And then I saw how incredible "lucky" I am... My oldest friend (that I'm currently friends with) has been my friend for 26 years. That's pretty remarkable, considering I'm 29! And others of my closest friends have held that place for over 20 years.

One of those is Grace, with whom I've been visiting for the past couple of days with Katie (another friend of 20+ years!). We haven't actually seen each other for three years, but slipped so easily into the old friend groove - first catching up on each other's recent doings, then moving on to such important subjects as CS Lewis, the evils of the culture's "follow your heart" mantra, 19th century religious figures... and Grace's dog (who's wicked cute).

What a refreshing, wonderful time we spent together! Let's hear it for childhood friends that make adulthood a joy.

An UPDATE! (Gasp)

It had to come someday... And what better time than right now?!

Katie and I are on vacation at Myrtle Beach (happy siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh). We've been having an absolutely wonderful time, reading, sleeping, eating, taaaaalking, sleeping reading, eating and talking, sometimes in the condo, sometimes on the beach. Bliss!

The first evening we dove into the local culture in order to acquire some sustenance. We arrived at Walmart all innocence and naivety. I was totally unprepared for how different a South Carolina Walmart and a New Hampshire/Rhode Island Walmart are. Everything is loud and boisterous and bathing suit-y in a southern Walmart. I'm sure this is because it was not only Southern, but Myrtle Beachish (i.e. many vacationers). I was a bit overwhelmed, and happy to get back to our snug condo-on-the-sea.

It made me realize that I am a Northerner. There's just no getting around it. I'm familiar with the North. I'm comfortable there. I like the security of my privacy. I like the cooler weather (a lot!). I like the old trees and the old roads and the many storied houses.

But you know what? The South does have the North beat when it comes to lightning. Katie and I sat on the beach for a long time this evening watching lightning bolts on the horizon. They were impressive - the kind you see in coffee table books.

And really, I can't complain about any place that gives us the kind of vacation we've been having! So way to go South Carolina! You win my seal of approval (you lucky dog).

One of the (Many) Reasons I Love Literature

You know why Literature is awesome? (I am tempted to add "unlike math and science," but I will admit that life is made better by math and science... Take the internet for example). Because literature is about PEOPLE and the human condition. And what's more, it's about ME and MY condition!

I had an "I love lit" moment this evening, so now I'm all inspired... I was flipping through a book and caught sight of Keats' line "Heard melodies are sweet but those unheard are sweeter" and it brought tears to my eyes. Why? What does that? (And when's the last time a math problem brought tears to your eyes?!)

It brought tears to my eyes because (well, to be perfectly honest it was probably because I had just been watching a sad movie and was listening to the very emotional "Five Hebrew Love Songs" but let's ignore that and say, which is also true, that it brought tears to my eyes because) it spoke to myriads of moments, big and small, in my life in which I held on to the profound truth that there is more to life than meets the eye - some moments of great joy where it was obviously true, others of desperation in which I needed it to be true, still others of clarity where I saw (with the eyes of faith) that it was true.

Literature is great because it can give expression to those myriads of moments. As Alexander Pope said (creating my all time favorite "why Lit is awesome" quote): "True wit is... What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed."

I know I've already raved about The Next Fine Day on this blog, but I found so much of myself in that book. I am a conservative to the core, and haven't dealt well with change ever since infancy, pretty much. In class we discussed the theme of "mutability" and I made my students laugh lots with my rendition of a song I made up when I was 13 (it has a very haunting melody, I might add): "Why can't things be like they used to be? Why do things always have to change?" THIRTEEN!

So discovering this book, clearly written by a kindred spirit, was balm to a soul that has been oft tortured (okay, slight exaggeration). It was all about the things that do not change - the cycles and patterns and threads and continuity of history. And it was just so BEAUTIFUL! It was beautiful in a simple way that doesn't try to be anything bigger than it is, which makes it all the more inspired.

And that makes me think that another reason the Keats line brought tears to my eyes is that the line stretches way into my past (okay, high school anyway... which is becoming more and more historic these days) and is still part of my life today. Literature doesn't change! Tennyson's In Memoriam will ALWAYS begin "Strong Son of God, Immortal Love," no matter what else happens in life. Trends in what's being read my come and go, but those words were written and will remain forever written.

Cool.

So read, people, read! And discover truths around every corner...

Recent Tidbits

*I've been reminded recently of the power of words, as two former students, in an out-of-the-blue fashion, thanked me for teaching them. Wow! It makes me want to do the same for my teachers and mentors. I've been floating because of it.

*We've been studying Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" in Classical Literature, so one day I found a huge tarp in the gym and had my students set up a cave and re-enact the allegory. We had such a fun time doing it! It took us about 45 minutes to make the set and 10 minutes to act out, but hey, at least they won't be forgetting the allegory any time soon.

*Growing up at Fairwood we kids would go through phases in our choice of entertainment. One stage was ping-pong and we played and played and played. Another was volleyball with a beach ball. Another Monopoly. And then there were our favorite outdoor games like Run Sheep Run and Chipmunks. It turns out I'm going through my second childhood apparently, because I'm starting to do the phases thing again at my friend's house after school. Last semester it was chess - we played so many games! And this semester the craze is Rook. And when I say craze I'm not exaggerating too much - we played until 11pm on a school night, gambling on a snow day. As I pulled in at my apartment about about quarter of 12 I wondering what on earth I'd been thinking, but when I got the call the next morning that school was indeed cancelled I realized the joy of the successful gambler. No wonder people get addicted...

*When you're living in an apartment with all girls, sometimes you have to do those mechanical things that your Dad always did at home. I have participated in the smaller things like taking out the trash, but also bigger things like figuring out what was wrong with the furnace (with Melissa) and unclogging the drain in the sink. Woo woo! Quite the feeling of empowerment.

*It is official: my first love in literature is definitely British Literature. And the incredible thing is that so far the classes I've taught have loved it too. This year I have five juniors and seniors taking it, and on more than one occasion I've heard them quote Hamlet in the course of conversation. Yesssssss.

*My car is SO dirty right now.

*We have started the junior/senior thesis work in earnest in Rhetoric class. One of my students is going to be researching the effects of Rock n' Roll. He didn't have his library card with him on the day we were searching library books online, so I let him use my card. Consequently I've been having to pick the books up at the library as they come in. Yesterday I marched into the library in a full ankle-length skirt, conservative coat and scarf, and hair in two french braids, and walked out with this huge stack of books on Rock. Yeah. There was an interesting juxtaposition. It's like the time my loaner car had a huge Harley Davidson sticker on the back and I wondered what people thought seeing me get out of the car... Probably people really don't think anything because they're too busy living their own lives. But still, it was cause for my own internal amusement.

*Speaking of amusement, my best friend on the teaching staff and I both have a bit of a problem with punctuality when it comes to morning devotions with the staff. We joke about being relieved when the other one is later because we don't look so bad. Yesterday we pulled in about the same time, and she caught my eye as we got out of our cars and took off running for the door. She made my official list that I've started on which I record who makes me laugh first every day:) I started the list when one of my students asked me if I ever don't laugh...

*Sad news: I don't think I can be a CTU agent. Jack Bauer often holds his flashlight between his teeth when he needs both hands, and when I hold things between my teeth I pull my tongue way back and it threatens to trigger my gag reflex. Bummer.

*We are reading the BEST BOOK in 7/8 Literature: The Next Fine Day by Elizabeth Yates. It has sparked amazing conversations about mutability, continuity, whether there are absolute standards for judging beauty, tradition and heritage, the importance of history, and whether it is truly "better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Woooo! I highly recommend the story to all!

*Now I want to go check my email, so I'll sign off until next time...

*...but just want to add that I love Claire! Thanks for the encouragement to post again; this was fun:)

Fight Cancer in 2009-ser!

Yeah... not exactly as poetic as some... But we here in the Murray household are making some changes!

After hearing that cancer is about to become the #1 killer in the US, and after hearing one of my students rant about being more healthy for the past 4 months, and after turning 29, which is practically 30 which is practically 40 - the age at which people should take care of themselves - I finally decided I'd jump on the healthy bandwagon.

So the plan is this:
5 servings of fruits and vegetables every day
3-4 20-30 minute exercise sessions per week
Cut the sugar

Sound good? Do-able? I think so (especially since I have an except-Sabbath clause). If you think so too, feel free to join us! I'm pretty psyched about it. I even made some green tea this morning (high in antioxidants!), but I forgot to drink it because of a phone call. Now I remember it. Must go drink!

Merry Christmas!

Good people all, this Christmas
..........time
Consider well and bear in mind
What our good God for us has
..........done
In sending His beloved Son.
..........................-Wexford Carol


I've been so blessed this Christmas season
in contemplating all that Jesus' birth means
to humanity. May you find similar blessing
this Christmas. We have so much to celebrate and be thankful for!

Column #4 - The Power of the Snack

Recently a friend of mine was having difficulty finishing something she was supposed to do. She had no inspiration, no motivation, and consequently was very discouraged. So I shared with her my super secret college strategy for paper writing.

When I had a paper to do, and knew it would be a biggy, I would create for myself a haven of writingness. It was a sanctuary of creativity. A temple of you-have-to-get-it-done-so-you-might-as-well-enjoy-yourself-as-much-as-you-can-along-the-way-ivity. I would light the lamp on my computer desk, put on some soft classical music, light a candle, and, most importantly, I would get a snack. Usually chai or m&ms worked best.

And this brings me to my point: the power of the snack. Ohhhh, how well it worked! Just ooooone more paragraph and then I can eat this little stack of m&ms I set up. Or sip sip sip sip sip DONE the paper! The motivation of food is nothing to be trifled with.

This has gone on to aid me in other areas of life as well. Reading my Bible when I have to read extra readings, for example. I'll see if I can make this piece of hard candy last as long as it takes me to read the whole of Psalm 119... Or cleaning my room! Or writing a blog. I have before me tea with honey, cheese and crackers, a clementine, and the ends of several uncooked green beans (I already finished those). And look at the result that's coming from it!

This is a tool teachers can use, as well. Bribes, obviously, are great things. You have to be careful with these, though. I was pretty embarrassed when the headmaster walked in to my classroom one day to see my students munching chips and drinking soda. Yeahhhhh.

But snack time, at it's scheduled time, is a useful tool as well. Suppose you forgot to plan enough for that day's lesson. You can "lose track of time" and allow snack to go for 20 minutes or half an hour if need be. Or suppose you need to get through extra material and don't want to allow even the 10 minutes. Then you can say you're going to have a "book club discussion" like those smart people have in coffee shops. You pull the desks into a circle and let them eat while they discuss, and they try to be extra smart to fit the image.

Ah the power of the snack. Never misunderestimate it, my friends. It can be the ultimate motivator, bribe, or comfort. And now I've got to go; I think Jenny Craig is on my lawn yelling mean things toward my house. Weird.

Column #3 - Cell Phones: Connecting or Disconnecting?

I had a strange experience the other day. I think it might lead to a paradigm (aka paradime) shift. I've always thought that a room with four girls in it, especially four girls who are friends, is a room full of the loud, giggle-filled conversation that pervade so much of the female life. But on the occasion of which I write, I was in this room with three other girls and the giggle-filled conversation was directed not toward each other, but into three separate phones. I was surrounded by female company, yet completely alone. Four girls. In a room. Talking to people not present. All of my preconceived notions about female interaction, lost. In a single cell phone filled moment.

It struck me as awfully funny at the moment, and yet it was also a moment of pause.

What new behavior is this new cell phone generation cultivating? We easily ignore the people with whom we're face to face in order to communicate with someone who isn't even there. We lose one more battle in the war against de-personalization.

Therefore, I propose a National Cell Phone Free Day. Remember those good old days when you were unreachable as soon as you stepped out of your house? Those days before you were enslaved to a small colorful square with an insistent song, demanding that you drop what you're doing (coffee with a friend, the typical "you too" to the cashier's "have a nice day," concentrating on the road, etc.) in order to ANSWER THE CALL? Those days when you actually had time to devote to the people around you?

It's time to take one day a year to return to those "good old days."

One day a year we will remember what it was to run out of gas on the side of the road, and have to walk a mile in subfreezing weather, instead of calling Triple A. One day a year we will remember what it was to get home from a long day of shopping, only to remember that we forgot the one thing we really needed - that crucial ingredient - because no one could call us to remind us. One day a year we will remember what it was to decide to stay a little later at the library, only to find out that we missed our best friend passing through on her way south since no one knew where to reach us. One day a year we will remember what it is to be CUT OFF from EVERYONE. Isolated.

Phew. I don't know if I can take that day. Maybe, instead, we can find that elusive middle ground between not being connected enough and being too connected...

Column #2 - The Joys of Hospitality

I Peter 4:9 tells us to "Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling." We know that some have entertained angels unawares, and that widows were placed on widow lists when they exhibited hospitality. Clearly it is an important virtue to be hospitable.

The question is, why? Surely this is a bit obscure. Loving-as-we-are-required aside, why invite people into your home to eat your food and put wet cups on wooden pianos?

At last I have arrived at an answer. Logic and experience have come together to make a stunning revelation. Matthew Henry will probably want to tuck this somewhere in his commentary. Or maybe he'll make it into a major point. Or would have, if he was alive.

Hospitality is important because it makes us clean things that we otherwise wouldn't! Like houses! Or rooms!

I had a friend come over yesterday. She's a new friend, and one who hasn't seen my apartment before. And you know what this extreme case of hospitality led to? I dusted my bookshelves. They haven't been dusted since I moved in about a year ago. Whew. They needed it.

Since then I've been caught gazing raptly at my bookshelves and their radiant whiteness for long periods of time. Okay, not quite. But I have definitely admired their cleanliness more than once!

It's worth some water stains in order to gain that added dose of cleanliness. Which is next to godliness, as we all know (I think that's somewhere in Matthew Henry, too).

And besides, I don't even own a piano.

Column #1 - A Commuter's Dream

Today I had a chorus practice in Newport. However, I like to say it was a choir practice, because for some reason choir sounds more professional than chorus. But it's a chorus. At least the full name is The Swanhurst Chorus which lends a bit more sophistication. Anyway. All that is beside the point.

The point is that I jumped in my car one hour before practice started, therefore leaving myself the perfect amount of time to arrive in Newport punctually.

HA!

Little did I know that the ENTIRE INTERSTATE 195 EAST had been SHUT DOWN. And not, I hasten to say, because there was a 37 car pile-up, or because an oil tanker had
spilled its contents over all three lanes, or because it was under quarentine due to the plague, or because Jack Bauer was chasing bad guys with nukes. No. It was for construction. CONSTRUCTION! They must be in a pre-winter panic.

I was nearly half an hour late for rehearsal, but that calamity pales in comparison to the fact that it took just over TWO HOURS to make the return trip to my apartment.

As I speedily zipped along the back roads of Swansea, MA at speeds between 0 and 3 mph, I caught a glimpse of a girl going the other direction. It was only a glimpse because I didn't want to be seen staring, not because she was going by so quickly. I could have taken a gaze if I'd wanted to.

In any case, her face expressed perfectly the complex emotion I was feeling: a strange mixture of rage and resignation. I didn't know those feelings could go together. But they can. They can.

That got me thinking about the other people who were in this fix with me. As I looked around and saw people talking on cell phones, bobbing their heads to inaudible music,
staring in front of them as if they could move the endless procession of cars by will power alone, I felt myself entering more fully into what it is to be a part of this human race of ours. I wondered about their destinations, their lives. I contemplated human suffering; the human condition.

It seems that relating to Romantic poets would require a certain amount of communion with nature. To experience a Wordsworthian euphoria one should spend time on a Wordsworthian hilltop or beside a Wordsworthian river deep in the woods.

But there, on little old Route 6 in Swansea, I experienced for myself the "still, sad music of humanity."

I wish, for his sake, Wordsworth could have known the joy of getting home to leftover Chinese food.

Budding Columnists

This year I'm team teaching a journalism class with the 8th to 10th grade students. It was one of those week-before-school-hey-I-was-thinking kinds of classes. I love those.

Anyway, it's only once a week, and I've been managing to come up with SOMEthing
to teach them each week. Sadly I've made my way through most of the newspaper (articles, editorials, reviews, letters to the editor...) and it's only the beginning of the second quarter. But fortunately I hit upon something last week that should take up a big chunk of time: Writing Columns!

Being a columnist would be my second dream job. Maybe. At least it seems interesting and enjoyable. In any case, I read a bunch of columns to my students (including a great Dave Barry article about taking his baby on an airplane) and then assigned them to write mini-columns 4 times a week. I even gave them those inspiring marble notebooks to keep their columns in. Then in class they'll share them and choose one idea to develop into a full-blown column.

It's a lot like blogging really, and I told them I'll be doing it too, so I think I'll do my "column" right here on my blog. So look for a bit of an increase in blog material... But don't look with your expectations too high, since life is pretty busy now that I've joined a local chorus (!!!). Still, I've got to keep up with it for my students.

Now you're warned.