This will not be too elegant, but we had such a nice day yesterday I wanted to get down some highlights:

We left around 9 a.m. for Shenandoah National Park, which is what R wanted to do for his birthday. He’s been there twice this summer (once by himself between jobs, once with the kids, though J turned out to be sick when they got there) but this was the first time with all of us. It’s a really nice drive. It’s about 2 hours which is too short to make installing the DVD players worth it. So instead we played games and told stories. Plus M gets carsick which makes the DVDs problematic. She actually rode in her booster in the front seat so she could see out. It was a beautiful day, low 80s, low humidity.

We got there in time for lunch at the lodge, where the food is “better than it has to be, and cheaper than it could be” (R’s words). The kids were really cooperative. Aside from a few cranky moments, they were stellar. After lunch we drove to Big Meadows to talk to the ranger, who recommended a hike up Stony Man Mtn. By the time we got there J was asleep, so MaDear hung out with him in the car (thank you!) while we hiked. It was perfect for C. M kept saying she was “tired” but I think she was actually bored. R was telling her the story of the tortoise and the hare, which is perfect for her because she hikes by hopping from rock to rock, balancing on boulders and stumps, etc., then saying “I’m tired!” C is definitely an example of slow and steady winning the race.

The view on the top of Stony Man is beautiful. We looked down on hawks soaring and saw huge shadows of clouds on the mountains below. The overlook is a rocky series of cliffs so I was glad J wasn’t up there. Meanwhile he had woken up and was slowly making his way up with Mom, so we saw him on the way down.

C really seems to “get” hiking. She and R climbed Lookout Mountain on vacation earlier this month, and R was impressed with her. We had left her tennis shoes at home on the trip to Montreat so we ended up buying her some actual hiking boots. Please please please let us be able to hand them down to M and then J, given the price…

After the hike we made a stop at the souvenir shop for a couple of trinkets, then started home. We told stories most of the way, which was one of my favorite parts. The kids wanted to hear all about when we were kids—were actually asking (begging) for more! more! more! I am writing this journal entry so when my kids find me uncool and boring I can remember that there was a time when they couldn’t get enough. Then I told them the stories about when each of them was born. M’s is the funniest and had them all cracking up.

As I wrote on FB yesterday, “Before I had kids, I didn’t have a lot of specific hopes for the experience, except that I wanted us to be a “storytelling family”… so I feel very happy this evening.” That about sums it up.

We’re looking forward to going back when the leaves turn!

At long last, I have started a blog under my own name. It’ll probably take a while for it to show up in Google search, so let me know if you’d like to know where it is. reverendmother03 at gmail dot com.

What a great journey it’s been. Almost seven years ago, I put up a silly bucket list of Christmas songs, and the thing just snowballed. This blog is what got me started writing again, helped me develop a voice and a discipline, and opened all kinds of doors and allowed me to meet some incredible people. I have very little patience with folks who talk pejoratively about blogging as self-indulgent and narcissistic. Sure, that’s out there, but for me this strange hobby has been life-changing.

That the blog has been pseudonymous all this time is a peculiarity. I’ve said many times that my goal has been to balance a desire for authenticity on the one hand with a need not to have my every thought Googleable by search committees and folks looking for a conference preacher on the other. As one pastor said in this article about clergy burnout, “Clergy have been seen as either superhuman who needed no friends, or subhuman who could exist without them — but certainly not human.” The article goes on: “Indeed, unlike doctors or police, for example, pastors are supposed to be people who have dedicated their lives to a spiritual goal and are not expected to focus on themselves and their own welfare in the here and now.” What could be more here-and-now than many of the I’m-gonna-go-crazy-on-these-children ramblings of this blog? Of course, part of my goal in writing these things is to demystify the life of the pastor, but let’s go a little slow with the little old ladies, hmm?

Several people have suggested that this blog would in fact be a selling point for a congregation. In some ways that’s been a temptation I’ve tried to avoid. If people find it and like it and want to know me better or hire me, fine, but that’s not the point. Like Anne Morrow Lindbergh, “I began these pages for myself, in order to think out my own particular pattern of living, my own individual balance of life, work and human relationships.” This space is precious to me; I don’t want to capitalize on it.

That said, if I’m truly going to be bi-vocational with writing and ministry, I need a public space to put stuff. So now I have one.

I’m not sure what will happen with this blog. I imagine I’ll still use it for random family musings and other stuff that’s less polished in form or thought. Though I probably will write less and less here as time goes on. And some stuff I’ve written here, I will move to ‘private’ and put up there. We’ll just have to see how it unfolds. I’ve known some bloggers whose work jumped the shark once they ‘came out.’ We’ll see… either way, I feel strongly that this is a step I need to take at this moment.

Whatever happens next, I’m thankful to my small but loyal group of readers. You rock!

1. It’s my day off and I’m home with the three amigos today. We leave for vacation on Saturday, so there’s a lot of little things to do. Often on days with the kids I will let them watch a movie or something while I blaze through the chores as best I can, on the thought that we’ll have uninterrupted time afterward to play and such. Unfortunately this doesn’t often work. For example, they will sometimes ask to play a game while I’m in the middle of something, and I have learned that it’s better to say yes immediately, then come back to what I’m doing, than to put them off.

Anyway, today I’m going to try something different than the binge-work-and-binge-play routine. Our approach today will be modeled after the pool schedule: kids play for 45 minutes in the ‘big’ pool, then at quarter ’til the hour the lifeguards blow the whistle and you have to get out for a break and for the adults to swim. So today the kids will have my undivided attention for games and stuff during ‘kid swim,’ but I need a short break each hour to put clothes in the dryer, do some paperwork, and the like.

We’ll see what that’s like. This is an example of my happiness principle of reframing what isn’t working. I might reach the end of today and decide that the reframing also needs to be reframed. But such is the improvisation of parenthood.

2. Speaking of happiness resolutions, it’s a new month for the Happiness Project which means a new set of resolutions. I find this fun—like a Happy New Year each month. Here are some of this months resolutions—a few that I’ve done every month and others that are new:
–continue to exercise (which I did 24 out of 31 days last month)
–check e-mail only at specified times during the day. I’m also trying something I read about recently, which is to wait until the next day to reply to e-mails. Batching e-mails takes less time, and a lot of stuff gets resolved on its own if you leave it be. Few things are truly urgent. (I do answer ‘pastoral care’ stuff the same day.)
–”is it true? is it kind? is it necessary?” in my constant battle against snark… though this resolution may not make me feel happier ;-D Of course as Gretchen Rubin says, Happiness doesn’t always make you FEEL happy.
–talk to strangers
–the hard thing is actually the easier thing (especially with parenting).

3. One of my resolutions each month is to laugh each day and to sing each day. Both lighten my mood instantly. To that end, R shared this video of a washing machine self-destructing. Be sure to watch the last 30 seconds:

You’re welcome!

I haven’t done one of these in for-EV-uh…. but it’s Friday afternoon and my brain is kinda fried for the day:

Kathryn posts this:
This Friday Five will post while I’m at the beach which for me is more than a vacation destination, it is a trip home. I have found it quite easy to wax nostalgic about the places I used to live (well, except for one) and have begun to wonder what it is I like about the place I’m living now?

And so I ask you to please name five things you like about where you are living now… and as your bonus - 1 thing you don’t like.

In no particular order:

1. I really love living in such a great tourist destination. Yes, the tourists can be a little obtuse (Metro escalators: stand right, walk left), but what an embarrassment of riches we have here. Culture, history… we try never to take it for granted. A couple years back, my brief dalliance with a church search committee in another state ended when I took C to Mt. Vernon—15 minutes from our house—and was like, “Leave here? Hell to the no.”

2. As much as I knock Suburban Sheol, I love that there are more than 100 languages spoken in the school system. I love seeing the women wearing the hijab walking in our neighborhood (though dang! the heat!). C has friends from Iran, the Philippines, Ghana, etc., and it’s no big deal.

A corollary to that: people here have lived around the world (whether with the military, State Dept., etc.) and while there is plenty of patriotism to be found, there is a sense of the global community that is very important to me personally (and to the survival of the planet, at the risk of being dramatic).

3. I got to go to this. As I wrote at the time, “It was the kind of day that solidifies a ‘place’ for a person. Today I feel like DC is my home and I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

4. Having grown up in Houston, I absolutely love the four seasons. Yeah, summers are hot, but hey, summers are hot in Texas too, but without the balance of the other times of year. We get leaves. We get snow. We get amazing blooms of color.

5. I like the proximity to nature: the mountains, the beach… And although we haven’t taken advantage of this much, I love the proximity to great Northeastern cities like Philly, NYC, Boston…

Bonus:
Traffic and cost of living.

Sitting on the couch with M, who is home sick and tired with a fever.

As for me, I’m just sick and tired… [lame attempt at humor]

I used to blog about, and think about, things other than kid illnesses. Wow, that was nice.

Though it may be torturous to do so, I’ve decided to keep track of these random viruses on a calendar. It feels like someone is sick more often than they’re not sick. Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised to find that’s not the case, but let’s just say we’ve had one normal week since the middle of June. Pleasantly surprised is on the ropes at the moment.

Two weeks ago I had a bit of a nutty.

Early that day, I heard about a hoity-toity tall steeple church that hired a 29 year old single woman with half the ordained experience I have. Which got me thinking about the road I’m not traveling. Most of the time I don’t regret taking a different path, and kudos to them for calling a woman, but really. 29? Ordained three years?

About an hour after that, I got an e-mail from a colleague who works part-time and writes, who has way more writing gigs than there’s even time for! How very… nice… for that person. (Now rationally speaking, I know I’ve been there before, but I ain’t even close to there now. And besides, the pity party was just starting to get cranked up, and rationality isn’t invited.)

After receiving these two bits of info, I began to notice that J was wilting before my very eyes. I took his temp and it was 103.5 and I was like I’ve had it. When R got home from work, I left for a very long, self-indulgent drive.

One of my happiness resolutions is to “love what is” and I’m finding that my greatest spiritual challenge at this moment.

As I’ve said many times here, I’m not in a hurry for these kids to grow up. I love the ages they are now. But it’s no fun when they’re sick, and the constant petty illnesses get very, very, very… very old. They have no energy to do anything, and even if they did, they shouldn’t be out and about anyway. And if more than one of them is home that day, then we’re ALL stuck inside (which means you have to contend with the high-energy-I’m-bored kid and the don’t-want-to-do-anything kid).

Eh…

from most recent to least:

C, after she found me in a totally different room than she thought I’d be: “Wow Mommy, that was like a Jack-Jack maneuver.”

Date last night, followed by an overnight in DC courtesy of Priceline while kids had MaDear sleepover. Potluck here tonight with the PNC that called me one year ago this month. Phone convo afterward with a parishioner about life, death and the things that really matter. It’s a good life.

After buying tix to One Man Lord of the Rings a year ago–and then forgetting to go–we’re making another attempt tonite. #busynessfail #geeks

Am sitting with the swim team *kids* this time, who converse on a variety of subjects. #notgrumpy

Dear swim team moms: Yes, our kids are fascinating but are you capable of talking about anything else? #1ofthesenotlikeother #grumpy

Had a great time at media training today–kudos to Auburn Seminary for sponsoring such a great program. Mr. Olbermann, I’m ready for my closeup. Also had lunch with my mom. Great session meeting tonight too. Tired but happy.

The Signature Theater Open House was very effective because I’m ready to get season tickets now!

I don’t get being late to your own wedding. “We’re not really ontime people.” OK, but the 100 people in the sanctuary are. #ilovemyjob

J has his first sub-100 temp since Monday. In related news, his skin has never looked better after a week indoors.

There was an earthquake? I’ll take your word for it.

R just left with J for the ER–he hasn’t been able shake the fever he’s had since Monday, and it’s no longer responding to tylenol/motrin very well. On-call doc suggested he be taken in for eval, so off they go… say a prayer / think good thoughts / hold them in the light

If u want to help ur introverted kid make friends at the swim meet, give her your #iPhone & she’ll be the center of attn #mommyFTW

Waiting for C at her very first piano lesson. I think she has the world’s sweetest teacher.

Nothing says “Mommy, you’re supposed to go back to work tomorrow after a week of no daycare” like a kid w/ 103.5 temp! #mylifesucks

Kids will eat overripe bananas they wouldn’t touch otherwise if I slice them and serve them with toothpicks. #parentinghack

J finally learned how to open the door to his room. We’re in a new phase now. #goodwhileitlasted

‎”Our oil hit Texas beaches yesterday. Fortunately, in 20 years their school books will say nothing happened.” -#bpcares, a satire of BP on twitter

Block party: grill, potato salad, sparklers, music, neighbors. You’d think we were in the 50s, except for the multiethnic families and explosives bordering on the hooliganish.

From the writing retreat:

I’ve written 11,000 words this week, and have 40,000 words total on my ‘project.’ I celebrated with a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich.

One day left and my favorite pen ran out of ink. BTW, the Uniball Jetstream pen glides over paper and is worth every penny.

This is the Kingdom of Sh*tty First Drafts, and I am its Queen!!!!

Had barely landed when I got the news that J is sick with a fever. R will probably stay home with him tomorrow, but if anyone can help out a “single” guy in his second week of a new job, we’d be obliged. My guess is by Tuesday he’d be no longer contagious but still not feeling well enough to go to daycare. Comment here or contact R directly. ~Sigh~

Leave for weeklong writing retreat on Sunday. Received the weather report and schedule via e-mail yesterday. The former: highs in 80s, lows in 60s. The latter: breakfast, lunch and dinner. Feels downright sinful, but I intend to sin boldly that grace may abound.

—-

So this afternoon I worked up a sweat running all over the house to get the swim stuff together. Then I strapped three kids into the steaming hot car, hoping the silver buckles wouldn’t brand their bare legs. What kept me going was the prospect of cold water, but it was just somewhat cool and only marginally refreshing. Thus, I’ve decided that there is such a thing as “too hot to swim.”

‎”Consider the source. If you’re worried about someone who dislikes you, first ask yourself whether they’re an a******. If you don’t like them, and they don’t like you, that’s not a problem. That’s a mutual understanding.” -Mighty Girl

“We’re either in a café in Paris or a coffee shop in New Jersey. I’m pretty sure I just came back from the doctor with life-changing news.”

From a forward called “36 Rules of Life,” sent to me by a church member: “There is always one more imbecile than you counted on.”

I try to think about Glenn Beck as little as possible, but I have been pondering his recent comments on social justice. This article responds as well as I could ever hope to, but there’s something else I’ve been kicking around, a logical fallacy that seems very revealing to me. I know, I know, logic has nothing to do with affairs of politics and the stories we tell ourselves, but hear me out:

1. Beck and his ilk are quite insistent that they aren’t opposed to giving charity to poor people, they’re just opposed to the government being involved. It’s a private, personal thing, a choice that each individual makes to help another person.

2. And yet, Beck and many others on the radical right are just as insistent that we are a Christian nation. Not a nation of Christians, but a Christian nation. A nation founded on so-called Judeo-Christian principles.

Why, then, would these self-professed Christians be opposed to enshrining the teachings of Jesus and the scriptures into our nation’s laws? A Christian nation would demand nothing less.

One could conclude from this that the “Christian nation” thing is just an empty slogan used to enflame the culture war.

Or, one could conclude that they don’t really believe that Jesus calls us to care for the poor.

Fire away…

It’s funny to read back over last Sunday’s update.

1. “Back to normal!” Not so much. J was sick all week with a very high fever—we even took him to the ER Thursday night because the meds weren’t bringing it down much anymore and we were in day five of this and our oncall ped suggested an eval. But he was OK, and is well now. Maybe his immune system is just really unhurried or something.

2. The whole “two day retreat” thing. Yeah, that did not happen. But it was a gift to have cleared my calendar on those days because it meant less shuffling.

But make no mistake, I pulled a nutty or two this past week. The timing was just amazing. Monday was my day off, so we were all here, and then Tuesday was going to be our “get back to normal” day. The fever came on late Monday afternoon and I was like OMG WTH SERIOUSLY?!?!?!?!? fdskls jkdhfbu vybeu ywba

I’m thankful to R for staying home with him one day so I could work, but working AND parenting nine days out of the last ten has almost driven me insane. R’s new job is actually more conducive to working from home than his previous one, but he’s still so new there (only a month), this was as it needed to be right now.

3. Last night R and I went to dinner and then to an open house at this theater. It was great fun. We really need to see more live theater.

4. C is doing well and having a good summer. She’s enjoying swim team and continues to improve her time bit by bit. She hasn’t done any Saturday meets, just the Wednesday ones, which suits us just fine, actually. She has started getting an allowance: $2.25 a week. The .25 is with the intention of her giving it to the church.

5. M seems really sharp to me right now. She has this stealth intelligence that picks up on everything and is making ever-more-complex arguments to try to get what she wants. She’s also very attentive to the chapter books we read with C. In addition to daycare this fall she will be in pre-K three days a week and I think that will be great fun for her.

6. Aside from his illness, J’s skin has never looked better. That points to his eczema being correlated to outside/airborne stuff, wethinks. But I am SO happy he is better. J’s default position is happy, and when something is wrong with my baby…

7. This should be a fun week. I’m not going to say things are back to normal. They will be what they will be. But tomorrow I’m signed up to attend this media training for faith leaders. Excited and nervous… should be a pretty intense day. Plus this week I start a six-week e-course in “Eyes of the Heart: Photography as Contemplative Practice”. My spiritual disciplines are pretty word-oriented so I’m excited to be doing something different.

1. I’ve been very quiet here this week because our daycare provider was on vacation, so I was doing some major juggling. Over the last week we’ve had lots of pool time, went to a state park, saw a puppet show yesterday, and watched a lot of movies while I’ve tried to work.

2. I actually would be OK as a stay-at-home mother. Some mothers who work outside the home say they’d go crazy. I don’t think I would. But being a stay-at-home mother WHILE being a working mother is THE PITS. So when I got an e-mail from our DCP on Friday I gave a little cheer. She’s home! Back to “normal” next week!

3. Also watched a lot of our denomination’s General Assembly last week. (Which was described by someone I know as “religion meets C-SPAN.”) I agreed with some things they did and didn’t agree with others. About average I’d say.

4. Went to see Date Night yesterday. Wish someone had told me the first half hour was a documentary… actually it was a great evening at the drafthouse with R. I could see Tina Fey and Steve Carrell doing some more stuff together. They are a great team, very well matched.

5. I self-scheduled a two-day retreat to do some church planning and vision stuff for the next year. That’ll be Wednesday and Thursday.

6. I feel a long way from the writing retreat.

7. I’m on twitter now, with some ambivalence.

“The weather out there today is hot and shitty with continued hot and shitty in the afternoon. Tomorrow, a chance of continued crappy with a pissy weather front coming down from the north. Basically, it’s hotter than a snake’s ass in a wagon rut.” –Good Morning Vietnam

Quite the abrupt shift from last week’s idyllic setting. I volunteered at C’s swim meet tonight and watched sweet little kids glide through refreshing water while I squinted into the sun and sweated my butt off while clutching a stopwatch. My legs now hurt from standing so long and I have a headache, and have been drinking water nonstop since I got home and have only just now started to pee.

That is what love looks like, m’friends.

Also, our childcare provider is on vacation this week so I am working while juggling children. Basically it’s too hot to do anything outside [I don’t even want to go to the pool; 100 degrees is 100 degrees and that sun’ll kill ya] so we’ve had some movie marathons and such.

Each night I make a list of things that must be done the following day and organize them by ‘context’—phone calls, computer things, stuff to think about, errands, etc. I’ve managed to stay afloat that way.

Below is a Reverendmother Encore Presentation, a post I wrote four years ago that recounted some memories of the PCUSA General Assembly. I have one more to add from last night—watching (and tweeting) as Cindy Bolbach, an elder from right here in National Crankypants, was elected. I did a little bit for her ‘team’ and am so proud to know this wonderful gal.

I don’t expect to be a regular twitterererer, but those funny, snarky, pithy folks are excellent company while geeking out on the live video feed. The twitterati enjoyed Cindy’s wonderful humor and wise, succinct answers. I thought all six candidates had fine moments but Cindy really owned the evening in my not-objective opinion.

And now here’s the post from a few years back:

——————–

Yes, I’m a big honkin’ nerd. I’ll admit it, I enjoy GA. There are things about it that drive me nuts—the ubiquitous politicking, the ponderous motions-to-perfect and shall-the-substitute-motion-become-the-main-motion, but I love it. The Assembly is a great big family reunion, complete with Surly Uncle Earl and Hapless Aunt Betty, with tragically unhip attire (name tags, tote bags), self-deprecating inside jokes, a little bit of forced-grin “Aren’t we having a good time together?” and a whole lot of spontaneous grace from unexpected places—unscripted moments that take your breath away.

I thought I’d share a few of my most vivid memories of the GAs I’ve attended:

The election of Jack Rogers as moderator: I attended the 2001 assembly as an observer and a participant in a polity course that takes place at the GA. Jack Rogers came to visit our class the morning after his election to talk about the experience. I remember it had taken him a long time to make it into the plenary hall after his election, and he told us why: when the officials came in to where the candidates were waiting and announced the result, the other candidates wouldn’t let him leave until they had laid hands on him and prayed for him. He was visibly moved by their generosity and faith and got choked up talking about it.

Doing the White-Folks’ Overbite: The Witherspoon Society party is a not-to-be-missed event—food, dancing and general revelry. However, there’s something disturbing about dancing to “Baby Got Back” with a bunch of (mostly) white, graying Calvinists.

GA with a Stowaway: I’ve attended GA three times, once as a Theological Student Advisory Delegate from Crusty-ol’ Theological Seminary. I was newly pregnant that year and hadn’t told many people. The pace about killed me. My roommate, CG Auntie, knew. To stave off the early-morning queasies, I ordered a room-service breakfast every single day. CG Auntie was very supportive of this indulgence—not all frugal Presbyterians would have been.

A Toast to a Dearly Departed Saint: As a TSAD, I sat with the delegation from my home presbytery. One night Presbytery Saint took our group out to dinner at a family-style Italian place. Aside from some of our group not understanding how family-style worked, leaving this closeted pregnant woman ravenous while heaping plates of pasta languished at the far end of the table, it was a fine evening. I only saw Presbytery Saint once more after that, and it was at my ordination, when he offered me his arm and walked with me into the chancel of the church, “presenting” me for ordination. He died last year. As I shared with NotShyChiRev at the time, I wish I knew the male equivalent of dame, because that’s what he was.

In Training for Presbytery Exec: I attended one day of the Richmond GA. My mother-in-law was there as interim executive presbyter for a presbytery in the upper Midwest. I ended up sitting next to her in the EP section, listening and gabbing and knitting with those cynical, seen-it-all EPs. Some gruff old guy in the seat next to mine was really bothered by my crashing their party… [shrug]

We Are the Body of Christ…?: Whoever decides on the placement of organizations in the exhibit hall has a dry sense of humor. Presbyterians Pro-life is always spittin’ distance from Presbyterians Affirming Reproductive Options, although thankfully, I’ve never seen any spitting. Same with the various groups on all sides of the GLBT ordination issue. I like to think that the folks are civil, even friendly, with one another. They have a job to do and they’re there to do it—nothing personal. Reminds me of that old Sam Sheepdog and Ralph Wolf cartoon—the two characters talk amiably on their way in to work (”Morning, Ralph.” “Morning, Sam”.) Then they punch the time-clock and go at it.

Earning my Street Cred: As a TSAD I gave the opening prayer for one of the plenary meetings. Thankfully I was unable to see the Jumbotron from the stage, otherwise I would have surely been embarrassed by my Gargantuan Pregnancy Acne. I served on a high-profile committee that year, and also spoke from the plenary floor a few times, and as a result I am proud to say that I’ve been quoted in the Layman.

Twice.

Yes, I have arrived. I’m sure my name’s on a no-hire list somewhere as a result.

I Have My Own Presbytery: As some of you know, I have a long name: Firstname Lastname Marriedname. A few weeks after the GA where I was a TSAD, my theology professor sent me a one-line e-mail:

“Where exactly is the Presbytery of Marriedname?”

Apparently one of the quotes in the Layman identified me as “Firstname Lastname, of the Presbytery of Marriedname.”

Now, I’ve heard the Layman described as the National Enquirer of the PCUSA. I know good people who read it, but let me just say this about that comparison: if they can’t even be bothered to factcheck something theologically neutral, like the names of presbyteries, does anyone think they’re going to go out of their way to factcheck some misleading piece of information that supports their point of view?

At any rate, I’d like to invite you to join the Presbytery of Reverendmother. Our meetings are short, uplifting, and always preceded by dinner and ‘ritas at the nearby Tex-Mex place.

Is this a sunrise or a sunset? Hard to tell, which is fitting—the week is coming to a close, but a new chapter is beginning in my writing as well.

I leave tomorrow for home after an incredible week. I can’t say the week flew by. It didn’t drag either; instead the time felt saturated with good conversations and lots of uninterrupted time to write. Several people here were polishing drafts. I was just trying to generate pages, which means being content with SFDs. Big emphasis on the S part, but I’ve got 11,000 words I didn’t have at the beginning of the week, which is huge.

I also took some time to add up and organize everything I’ve written on my dad/memoir thing and I have [sit down]

41,000 words.
I am gobsmacked.

So here are some random reflections on the week:

1. I set some intentions and did a personal check-in on them each day. Stuff like:
-staying open to the spirit—working on whatever seems right for that moment
-doing some physical activity each day
-balancing extrovert/introvert time
-only checking in (e-mail and FB) 2-3 times a day
and a few others.

Intentions, as I’ve said before, work better for me than rules or resolutions. I didn’t walk every day, and that’s OK. I feel satisfied with what I’ve accomplished and also with the times of rest. This is a beautiful place just to enjoy:

2. A couple of time management things: I am very susceptible to the distraction of shiny objects and/or the internet. To some extent I just went with it, because sometimes you need a break. But I mitigated the unhelpful distractions in two ways. The first is the 12+3 rule, which is an adaptation of this technique. I actually didn’t end up needing that one very much. The other thing I did is that I kept a running list of little random things I could do when I needed a break. So if I got stuck, I made a phone call I needed to make. Or filled out the retreat evaluation. And so forth. Little stuff that was mindless but could provide a reset. Worked great.

3. Since I’m still generating SFD material, I’m not worried about structure, I just need to get stuff out. So today I generated a long list of first sentences that I can use as a springboard for a whole slew of vignettes. Such as:
-Dad may be the only person I know who’s run out of gas twice in one day, on the same stretch of highway.
-I blame MTV for my broken toe.
-You haven’t lived until you’ve sailed down the stairs in a nylon sleeping bag.
-One night I rescued my three younger siblings from a burning house, almost.

Each of these sentences is the equivalent of parking downhill—it will give me a jumpstart some random Thursday when I have 30 minutes to get some writing done.

4. After being tied to the laptop for several years, I took a turn at longhand, and I just flew, thanks to a great pen and great paper.

I also went the longhand route for retreat-related reasons: I have a wonderful patio and could sit outside much easier with the journal than the laptop. Made for a more pleasant experience:

That’s a bit staged but you get the idea. (I brought the Iona picture and rocks from home)

5. Being able to see my spouse and children while talking to them made the week so much more pleasant.

A final picture. This is from the Stella Maris chapel. Like Mary, today I am pondering and cradling what is being birthed…
…and feel so very, very grateful to R, the kids, Speck, Mamala, Ms. L, my neighbor who drove C to swim practice…
…and to the foundation and institute who made this possible.

I heard a new term this week, “guinea pig non-fiction,” which is the Julie and Julia/Year of Living Biblically/Happiness Project genre in which people undertake an experiment and then write about it.

So, tomorrow is my half birthday (don’t ask me why I remembered that) which means that in exactly 18 months I will be the Big Four-Oh.

Eighteen months is a decent amount of time to do something great, to set a significant goal and meet it. And of course, blog about it. And I feel like the goal is out there, I just have to discover it. What do you think?

Like, I could read the complete works of someone worth reading the complete works of. Or learn how to draw. (I’m terrible. For real.) Or I could write a poem a day. (Check out Birth of a Play(wright) about a woman who’s writing a play in 9 months.) Or I could interview family and friends about their experiences of turning 40. (Here’s an example of something similar a friend of mine did to celebrate the 10th anniversary of her ordination.)

I’m thinking something marathonish but obviously not necessarily physical. Though it would be nice to get out of my head…

Or maybe I could do the Thomas Jefferson Renaissance Man thing and pick something new each month.

All right, your turn, dear readers. Any suggestions? Whether feasible or not? What have you always wanted to do?

There are lots of dragonflies here. I didn’t like them as a child but think they’re sweet now. One of them hitched a ride on the back of a friend while we hiked this morning. This one is enjoying the stained glass reflected on the wall of the chapel.

1. I’m leaving for a weeklong writing retreat in 11 hours. The weather report is high of 81, low of 61… all week.

And the schedule consists of:
Breakfast
Lunch
Dinner
Optional Evening Activity

As I noted on Facebook, it seems almost sinful. But I intend to sin boldly that grace may abound.

2. We had a picnic dinner at the pool this evening. Very fun and worth the effort. We’ll do that again for sure.

3. I will miss C’s first swim meet on Wednesday, which I’m sad about. She’s been having a lot of fun and I can see a lot of improvement just in the few weeks she’s been on the team. We’re de-emphasizing winning (an unlikely occurrence, to be honest) and talking more about setting personal goals for herself. She really loves swimming and that makes me happy.

4. We signed up C for the summer reading program and she’s already read two books. Nothing like the promise of free stuff to motivate that kid. She’s about done with her first Rainbow Magic Fairy book, which seems aggressively market-tested to be appealing to girls just like her, but hey…

5. The girls and I watched Because of Winn-Dixie today—just finished reading them the book. Given how much they giggled at the dog ripping the police officer’s pants, revealing his bright red boxers, I’d say they’re ready for a whole new genre of kid flick, namely, the Home Alone genre.

6. C brought home a blank notebook from school on the last day that the first-grade teachers suggested be used as a summer journal. They suggested parents and children write notes back and forth, so I wrote a short note for each day I’m gone. My expectations aren’t that high that she will write back but who knows

7. In the midst of getting ready to leave, R had his first week of work at the new job. He seems very energized and is excited to be working in such a well-run company with some very smart people. Seems to be the right balance of “can I cut it here?” and “I see places I can make an impact.” I think *he’s* one of the smart people. And I could not do the things I do without his support.

And I’ll sneak this in with #7 since it’s related to R—got the new iPhone this week. My first generation phone was on its last legs. It’s an incredible little machine, I’ve gotta say. Will be fun to do ‘picturephone’ with the kids while I’m gone this week.

For you, for me, for the 21st century church, for a fast-paced, interconnected world:

From The Art of Non-Conformity, a blog I really like

“Stupid eh? Yeah, I’m stupid. Stupid like a fox!”

Two of my favorite bloggers have started blogging a little more in recent days. One of them was reflecting on her recent Facebook- and Twitter-sized thoughts, and feeling the need for some longer-form pondering. I definitely feel that shift in myself. I’m FBing much less than I did, which frees up some brain cells for other things. I never did Twitter—can’t say I won’t ever get into that, it still has its uses, but I’ve been wondering if the Twitter-mania has crested.

Nicholas Carr (author of “Is Google Making Us Stupid?”) is making the rounds on all the talk shows about his latest book. He mourns the death of the attention span. I can’t say he’s wrong, but I don’t quite see the sky falling. It could be that I’m just old enough to be a digital immigrant rather than a native, but I don’t use the internet quite like he describes, clicking and jumping to a new page mid-article, unable to follow a thought to its conclusion. (Doesn’t everyone control-click?)

From the book’s description (I haven’t read the book yet):

Our brains, the historical and scientific evidence reveals, change in response to our experiences. The technologies we use to find, store, and share information can literally reroute our neural pathways.

Building on the insights of thinkers from Plato to McLuhan, Carr makes a convincing case that every information technology carries an intellectual ethic — a set of assumptions about the nature of knowledge and intelligence. He explains how the printed book served to focus our attention, promoting deep and creative thought. In stark contrast, the Internet encourages the rapid, distracted sampling of small bits of information from many sources.

Except that people are still reading books. It’s not either-or.

[The Internet’s] ethic is the ethic of the industrialist, an ethic of speed and efficiency, of optimized production and consumption — and now the Net is remaking us in its own image. We are becoming ever more adept at scanning and skimming, but what we are losing is our capacity for concentration, contemplation, and reflection.

Look, I can’t argue with the last sentence. But being able to sift through information and synthesize is a very important skill in a complex globalized world.

Given that books are still very much with us, wouldn’t it be great to look at the great potential of developing both skills? In the latest interview I heard, Carr did acknowledge that our brains are elastic enough that any ‘damage’ done by excessive internetting can be mitigated by practicing more contemplative tasks. And that’s what takes me back to my first point about my blogging friends. I won’t speak for them to say that they’re pulling back from the 140-character medium in an effort to reclaim some balance. But that’s definitely on my mind these days. I can’t point to anything specific but I feel intuitively that people I know are dialing down the text and Twitter messages and seeking something deeper. And maybe Nicholas Carr gets some credit for that.

One last thing on blogging as it relates to Carr’s thesis. This comes from Andrew Sullivan. First he quotes Steven Berlin Johnson (whose review* I control-clicked and will read later—see?), who talks about the power of writing to help us develop our thougts:

Actually sitting down to write out a response to something makes you see it in a new way, often with greater complexity. And that of course is the crucial flipside to the decline of long-form reading in the digital age: the increase in short-form writing. If we are slightly less able to focus because of the distractions of electric text, I suspect it is more than made up for by the fact that we are much more likely to write out our responses to what we do read.

Now here’s Sully, and I couldn’t agree more:

I’m a writer by profession and it’s totally clear to me that since I started blogging, the amount I write has increased exponentially, my daily interactions with the views of others have never been so frequent, the diversity of voices I engage with is far higher than in the pre-Internet age - and all this has helped me become more modest as a thinker, more open to error, less fixated on what I do know, and more respectful of what I don’t. If this is a deterioration in my brain, then more, please.

*Johnson’s analysis is excellent; I recommend it.

A few years back, C wrote and illustrated a story called “How Mommy and Daddy Got Their Cats.” I’ll try to scan the pages sometime, it’s cute. From the time R and I got married, we wanted a couple of cats, but the place we lived in didn’t allow them. The landlord relented the following year when he wanted to rent the upstairs duplex to a family with a dog, so off we went to the Houston SPCA.

We found two kittens we were interested in, littermates with the names Tiny and Tommy. Tiny was gray all over and Tommy was a tuxedo cat. We asked to see them in the Get Acquainted Room and they were playful and friendly. They were our cats. After their mandatory surgery, we brought them home. They were just a couple of months old. The little one was just 2 pounds, the bigger one, about 3.

It was a Thursday afternoon in July when we brought them home. I had to leave an hour later because I had a circle meeting that night with some young adult women at the church. When I got home, R was stretched out on the guest bed with one cat on each side of him. I remembering pouting a little because I missed the bonding time. And it’s true that the little one has always been R’s cat. The big one was more my cat, but honestly, he’s everybody’s cat.

The big one with the tuxedo is the one with the real personality. He used to fetch little toys and balls when you’d throw them and come when his name was called (still does). The first night we shut them out of our room, foolishly thinking we’d be able to keep that up. We lived in an ancient duplex and there was a 2 inch gap between the door and the floor. As we were falling asleep we heard this shuffling and grunting sound, and voila, out Tommy popped from under the door.

Now he’s a fat lazy cat that sleeps on our bed all day and who is starting to have kidney problems. He likes a corner of our family room for peeing, which doesn’t give me the vapors as much as it did because a) we have tile in there now and b) we keep him out of there courtesy of baby gates—yes, he’s too fat and lazy to jump them. He’s still lovable and pretty sociable for a 15 year old, and I’ve said many times that the ornery old coot will probably live forever.

The little gray one has always been a sweetheart. In her heyday, she could leap five feet in the air from a standstill. She’s always preferred R; in fact, sometimes when I’d pet her she’d playfully bat at my hand. Was she jealous of my place in R’s heart, or asserting hers? She’s a well-mannered cat, though early on she got into a weird pattern of having accidents in a corner of our guest bedroom/office. She was cured of that quirk when she managed to pee on a surge protector.

R has often said that cats provide dynamic feng shui. They move around the room to exactly where their presence is needed for balance and well being. So true.

We thought a lot about names. Having graduated the previous year with a degree in English lit, I had several Shakespearean pairs picked out, such as Beatrice and Benedick from Much Ado about Nothing, my favorite of his plays. …Though I thought Viola and Sebastian were the best cat names ever (Twelfth Night). But ultimately we gave them each their own, unpaired name, Maya and Willy. We knew that one day, there would only be one of them, and that would be hard enough without being reminded of the one that was missing.

We are nearing that point now.

Maya has had thyroid problems for a while, which we were controlling with medication, but now she’s having seizures. We will try some medicine that should stop the seizures, but it doesn’t address whatever the root cause is. We’ve ruled out all the obvious (and inexpensive) things.

Unfortunately, the anti-seizure medicine wasn’t available until today, and she started having them more frequently on Saturday, so we ended up taking her to the emergency vet so she could be “loaded” with the drug until today, when we can start dosing her ourselves.

It’s not clear what happens next. The emergency vet said her vision was impaired, which can happen immediately following seizures, but it seems to be persisting today. Neither of us wants her to live that way, so…

This has been tough. R and I see eye to eye on most things, but we don’t agree on when it’s time to let her go. It strikes me once again how past griefs inform our reaction to current ones. I feel sad, but I’m ready to have her put to sleep now, for a variety of reasons. Given my history with dad’s death, I put a high premium on being able to say goodbye, if goodbyes are possible. I can’t stand the idea of her crawling under a bed and dying by herself. R has different experiences that inform his view of things, but they’re his experiences and they’re not mine to share. He does feel a sense of responsibility to be a faithful pet owner as long as he is able. If the seizures can be controlled, and the vision issue is temporary, he’s willing to keep going with it longer. Also, being a P on the Myers-Briggs, he just needs more time, I think.

But either way, I don’t think she’ll be with us all that long.