life lessons

Life’s Like That

June 2, 2011 By heather 7 Comments

I have high hopes some days. That I’ll get to write during Keegan’s nap. Or clean a bathroom. Or shower.

But some days are like this: Keegan doesn’t want to nap. He doesn’t want to play. He only wants to be held. These are Calgon days. I struggle with letting go of my expectations on Calgon days.

***

Or I plan ahead and make enough dough for two pie crusts and freeze half so that when I want to make chicken pot pie, I only have to thaw the dough, roll it out, and fill it. Except that for some reason, the thawed (yet cold) dough sticks to everything. Rolling it out is an impossible task. Well, not rolling it out as much as unpeeling it from the wax paper, no matter how much flour I coat it with. So I piece together the dough like a patchwork quilt. This is fine for the bottom, but the top becomes an abstract mess. Just as well. The recipe came from the Dallas Museum of Art and was inspired by Jasper Johns’ Target. (Except the official recipe serves each pot pie in individual pastry puffs made to look like targets. I’m too lazy for that–and pastry puffs have partially hydrogenated oil–so I use a traditional pie crust. Well, I did until this disaster.)

I call it punk rock pie.

Also, I added so much flour in my unsticking attempts, that the crust is a bit on the chewy side. Not so much light, fluffy, and crispy.

***

My son has a nemesis, and his name is Kitty. Kitty fascinates Keegan, as nemeses do. Kitty resides on Exersaucer Lane, and he has a bell. He makes Keegan smile. At first. Then Keegan tries to get Kitty into his mouth (where all things must go), and Kitty is a bit of a hermit. He refuses to leave his house on Exersaucer Lane. And this frustrates Keegan. He stands tall, raises his fists, and yells. Then he tries again, because Keegan is nothing if not determined, and he will conquer his nemesis.

I guess everyone has a nemesis, even three-month-olds.

***

But no matter what, there’s breastfeeding. And that means that in a couple more hours, I have built-in reading time. Also, I can eat that extra brownie. (Notice the adjective “extra.”)

And, when I invite family for dinner, when I go feed Keegan, they usually do the dishes. Score.

Filed Under: life lessons

Reflections and Refractions

January 5, 2009 By heather 10 Comments

Bet you thought the water fairies had finally taken me away. Bet you thought they’d given me their magical algae for breakfast so I could breath underwater and right now, I’m ducking through corral reefs and riding the backs of dolphins. Bet you thought that since, obviously, I couldn’t use my computer underwater (it comes with a label–dangerous under water), that must be the reason I’ve been so silent.

Nope.

Actually, I’ve been enjoying my holiday senza Internet. It was quite nice, actually, though I’ve missed you all. I conquered WALL-E’s world with my niece on her DS, sang and dance with my younger nieces to the Meiser brothers’ songs ("I’m Mr. White Christmas; I’m Mr. Snow; I’m Mr. Icicle; I’m Mr. Ten Below…"), grew to be an expert on vocals and drums on Rock Band, hiked a mountain or two, listened to enough Christmas music to turn me into an elf, and drank enough wassail to make Santa Claus jealous.

All in all, a grand old time.

***

It’s the new year. I know because strangers fill my gym. I know because the scent of pine fills my nose like a ghost. I know because boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations fill my hallway waiting to go back in the attic where they’ll dream and secretly play all year long, making my husband and me think we have squirrels in the attic.

***

It’s the new year. And this year, my husband and I have lots of new starts. To be honest, I’m nervous. I’ve felt the promise of a new year before, and I’ve felt the disappointment when that promise failed. There are things I love I have to wrap in tissue paper and box away with the Christmas ornaments for a bit. There are things I’m starting out brand new. We could use your prayers in this new year, if you wouldn’t mind offering them.

***

I learned one of my nieces prays in tongues. At least, that’s the only thing we can determine. Either that or she learned Chinese through some interactive TV. I learned how to play Stairway to Heaven on a Peruvian recorder thanks to a gift from another niece. And I learned Santa doesn’t care how old you are.

Filed Under: Christmas, life lessons, New Year's

Case Study 56, Subject Number 9

July 28, 2008 By heather 8 Comments

Case Study: Crash and make unavailable to subjects their personal computer. Test reactions and alternate habits.

Subject Number 9: Reaction: Reacted calmly. No sign of panic or anger. Alternate habits: went to Pilates class, did food shopping, read, practiced piano, then subject did something not perceived as previous habit. Subject cleaned.

So there you have it. My computer crashed. Thankfully, Thursday morning, after reading Mary DeMuth’s writing blog, So You Want to Be Published, I realized, per her reminder, that I hadn’t backed up my writing file in a while. I promptly did. Which meant that when my computer crashed Thursday night, worst case scenario, I lost one day of writing (and a few random files), rather than months of writing. Hence the lack of panic and anger. Thank you, Mary.

I’m disappointed I didn’t get to participate in Robin’s Poetic License, to which I’d been looking forward. But c’est la vie.

My husband, being the genius he is, saved my hard drive and reinstalled all the software. We suspect that the culprit was software I attempted to install in order to convert wmv files to mov files so that I could post my podcasts to iTunes (if anyone has any suggestions for that, I’m all ears). So we spent the weekend reinstalling. This morning, I’ll copy all my files from the extra hard drive back to my computer and get back to life (back to reality).

Two interesting things: is it an accident that contemporaneous with the technology problem we’ve been watching Battlestar Galactica, in which cylons–artificial intelligence created by humans–take over the world?

Also, I remembered that, while I missed my cyber friends, I enjoy my non-cyber life. I even cleaned (start breathing again–it’s not that shocking). Although, I’m glad to be back. Maybe I should learn some balance in this.

So, again, if anyone has suggestions for converting video files, I’d love to hear it. I bought QuickTime Pro hoping that would take care of the problem, but QuickTime Pro is not compatible with my webcam.

Filed Under: computers, life lessons, technology

What I'm Learning from Speaking

July 11, 2008 By heather 8 Comments

I need to choose my topics carefully. God will first teach me what I intend to teach others. This began even while I was in seminary taking preaching courses–God wastes no opportunities!
I can’t be, nor should I try to be, any one else no matter how amazing, spiritual, and used-by-God they may be.
I can’t make the audience see who I am or who I want to be. I can work at seeing who they are.
When I am weak, God is strong.
My image is not nearly as important as God’s: whom am I working to glorify?

What are some life lessons you’re learning right now?

Filed Under: life lessons, speaking

Camping 101

October 29, 2007 By heather Leave a Comment

What I learned from camping:

It’s best to spoil yourself
when camping: steak and salmon for dinners and the like. It helps if
you pack a Master Chef with you for just such an occasion. This is why
I take my husband with me.

Coffee tastes better percolated outside.

Full moons are just as bright as the dawn.

Also bring with you a pyro. They make the best campfires (um, my husband again).

Watching a lake shimmer in the sun is better than DVR.

Fires are hypnotic.

If lit on fire, marshmallows are excellent carriers of fire and can easily ignite other items such as sweatshirts and chairs.

The only time hot dogs taste good is cooked on an open fire.

You
get a lot of exercise just doing everyday things, like walking up to
the bathrooms, taking out the trash, and hiking, so packing things like
chips, hot chocolate, and the makings for s’mores is okay.

I can get dressed laying down.

At
night, that walk up to the bathrooms can’t be bothered with. Squatting
behind the tent is fine. Pack toilet paper and hand sanitizer.

No
matter how clean the showers are and if they get hot water, nothing
will feel so good as a steamy shower in your own bathroom when you get
home (followed by a good night’s sleep in your bed rather than an air
mattress that you suspect is losing air).

The Creator God
must really love us to give us these trees and water and deer nibbling
by and yellow and blue and orange butterflies fluttering this way and
that and grasshoppers playing along the path.

The last one I’ll tell you in another post. I will tell you this: it has to do with fire.

Filed Under: camping, life lessons, nature

City on Fire *

October 7, 2007 By heather Leave a Comment

Chris (my husband, not the fellow Misfit) and I went camping this past
weekend. Camping teaches me. Camping gives me a chance to draw closer
to God in his creation.
Today I want to share with you my thoughts of fire.
Chris (again, my sexy husband) is a pyro. Pyros make the best campfires. Chris is an expert fire-maker.
Staring into the hypnotic flames, rubbing my hands near the warmth, I learned something.
You
start a fire. You build it with spaces for airflow. You force oxygen
into the spark. It flames, and the flames reach higher and higher,
crazy in their excitement, set free. They follow the wind–they don’t
care. As long as they’re burning.
Those flames, neophytes, are hot, it’s true. But you won’t get a good roasted marshmallow
from them. They’ll burn the outside to a crisp and leave the inside
cold. They’re young. It’s fun to watch them, inspiring even, but they
won’t cook a steak.
Then you get the coals. The flames have stopped.
They don’t worry about going this way or that. They settle in. And
those coals, they glow with heat. It permeates, and they won’t easily
be put out. You hold a marshmallow over those babies, and the marshmallow will swell and soften and reach perfection.
It takes work and perseverance to make red-hot coals out of flaming logs.
This is the kind of Christian I want to be.
This is the kind of writer I want to be.
The newness of writing is exciting. The flame takes off. But it flows this way and that. A little rain, and it smolders, smokes.
Then you settle in. The heat takes hold of your coal and you know that no rain will squelch this. It emits heat that’ll cook a steak. You glow.
I
want to glow. And I’m beginning to realize (again) that this takes
perseverance. Building a good structure that allows airflow. Forcing
oxygen even when it stirs the ashes and agitates your eyes. And waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
I don’t like waiting.
But I want to glow red-hot.
Glowing red-hot will set the city on fire.

**Fifty points if you can tell me the musical that has a song by the same name.

Filed Under: fire, life lessons, writing

Going Tribal

October 2, 2006 By heather Leave a Comment

My husband TVoed a couple of episodes of Going Tribal. I love studying other culturals, how they work, what makes them tick, etc., etc., etc. This particular show is about a guy who travels via foot (I feel for the poor camera-man who has to go on foot shooting all the while and heaving all that equipment) to different tribes in Africa. The episodes we saw were in Ethiopia.
Here are a couple of things I learned:
1) In the first episode, the host participated in a coming-of-age ceremony. The boy-about-to-become-man has to jump over a slew of cows in a row (I think about ten). He jumps and runs across their backs. The cows are painted with their own dung. Mmm. Pleasant. He does this back and forth twice. If he succeeds, he is considered a man. He is able to tend the flocks and marry in a few months. The host used terms to describe this such as "death" and "rebirth."
Sounds like a great metaphor to me. We go through a similar ceremony that requires death and rebirth (and sometimes involves a lot of cow bleep). On the other side, we are expected to tend the flocks (Do you love me? Then feed my sheep.) and look forward to wedding ceremony when we will be gathered with Christ into the new earth.
2) Ancillary to this, the women are whipped as part of the ceremony. Yes, whipped. They want to be whipped. Any woman who refuses the whip is shunned and considered a coward. This is especially poignant for the sisters. If they are whipped as part of their brother’s ceremony, they are considered protected and provided for by the brother if they fall into hard times. While I can’t find the whole inflicting pain a good thing, the scars that tie them to their brother and his protection reflect our wounds that tie us to Christ. Instead of being afraid of dealing with hatred in this world, as Christ promised us, we should bear these scars proudly as the women in the tribe did.
3) Each of the tribes loved being who they are. Both tribes, when showing off their best, either ceremony or fresh croc meat, made the comment that the host will never want to go back home now. He’ll, of course, want to stay with their tribe. We sit here thinking, oh, those poor Africans who are not advanced. We need to bring them technology so that their lives will be good. Now don’t get me wrong. Many are dealing with malnutrition and starvation because of drought, and I think we should be involved with feeding the poor. But that doesn’t mean taking them from their lives to our lives. They love their lives.
4) It doesn’t matter where you are, boys love their farting jokes. In both tribes, the men farted and laughed at it. Big joke. Ha-ha.

Filed Under: anthropology, life lessons