Imitation

Santa was very good to us this year. Not only did we get some fun things, but best of all, we got to spend time with our families. It was a really wonderful time.

Since getting back to St. Louis on the 28th, I've been a slug because I've been depressed. Over the holidays everyday was so full of fun and activity with our families. And now I'm homesick. But, I guess it's time to get back to doing things. Anyway, thank you to everyone for all the wonderful things you did for us. Thank you for your generosity and love.

Santa also was a little silly and mischievous this year. J.D. got this new fragrance in his stocking Christmas morning:

Yes, he received "Just Like Eternity: Men's Cologne." (He normally wears Eternity). But what I love most about this particular bottle is the double way you can read it. Your eyes first read the biggest words: "Just Like Eternity." Then you can read it this way: "Just Like is not connected in any way with Eternity."

We think Santa must have picked this up for J.D. at the dollar store, which is evidence that the economy really is affecting everyone. :) On the back it informs potential wearers: "'Just Like' is not associated, related, or connected in any way with the trademark appearing on this product. This is for comparison only." Of course, no one believes that. You see it and know what they're trying to do. Obviously, the first reading of the product is intended to make either very naive or very optimistic buyers think this bottle really is the next-best thing to Eternity. But, then, all you need is your nose to bring home the impact of the second reading. We came to the consensus that it really smelled like "Old Man Barber Shop," which you could argue about its merits, but is most certainly not the scent of Eternity.

Perhaps the most fun was simply passing this bottle around Christmas morning, insisting everyone smell it. Santa must have known it would be good fun. Mom sprayed it around; Casey moved away to prevent any getting on him; Candice exclaimed it smelled worse than any barber shop; Dad sniffed it without making much fuss, and Chad pulled a face when the fragrance was unleashed upon him by his sisters. Eau de Cologne, fragrant oils, or alcohol and water, it's all toilet water to Santa!

Anyway, taking a clue from Just Like, for now I'll imitate. I'll simulate happiness until it might be real again.

Happy Everything!

Well, it will be awhile before any more posts. So, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Jolly Kwanzaa, Glad Eid-al-Adha, Feliz Navidad, Joyful Solstice, Copacetic Saturnalia,* Amusing Eat a Oatmeal Muffin Day, and very Blessed Festivus!

Much Love to All. -- J.D. and Tammy


*Credit to Catherine for reminding me about Solstice and Saturnalia!

Camping Out at Home

Tonight the power went off. (We've had a lot of freezing rain and snow). Fortunately, we have a ton of candles, so we went around busily lighting them in every room.

We just had to keep an eye on Athena, who liked sticking her nose close to the flame. She liked one pine scented candle best. I would pick her up and carry her away, only to have her run right back to it. Once when I picked her up, she had a slightly singed smell. J.D. thought I was exaggerating until he walked by and smelled it too. (She's ok). I'm not sure why that particular candle was so fascinating to her.

Anyway, then we decided it was time for dinner. J.D. cooked spaghetti over the gas stove while I washed some dishes, and we listened to Sister Souljah talking about her new book on my little portable radio. Funny. When the lights came back on, after about 30 minutes, J.D. looked at me, sighed, and said he was having fun. So, we turned all the lights off again and kept cooking in the dark! :) I do love you J.D.

Laughing at myself

I got this notice today from the library about a book I haven't read yet.

"The following item will be due soon:
Procrastination : Why You Do It."

The one recipe to try

Tuscan White Bean Dip

1 can Northern White beans, drained, rinsed
4-5 roasted garlic cloves (10-15 minutes, 350 degree oven in aluminum with olive oil)
1/4 cup olive oil
2 T fresh rosemary
Kosher salt and pepper to taste

Combine most ingredients in food processor and blend until smooth, adding olive oil as you go. Serve immediately with pita or refrigerate until ready to serve.

Tonight we went to a brief, one time Holiday appetizer cooking class. This was the one recipe we both agreed would be worth keeping and making in the future, so I wanted to share. The other recipes just seemed overcomplicated and not worth the effort. (Also, some were just gross, like the wild rice pancakes with chipotle sour cream topping... blah). Another recipe required homemade pasta to make ravioli... no thanks, way too time consuming. However, this bean spread was filling, simple, and tasty.

Fishing

So, here's silly video of Athena fishing a key chain out of our blue vase. (My mom gave me this goofy pig key chain that oinks.)

Random Question:

Do you fit your zodiac sign?

Do you believe it, find it amusing, think it's right some of the time, or find it all silliness? I'm just curious what my friends think.

I tend to fit mine pretty well-- the two little disoriented fish, always swimming in different directions. (At once moment a total goofball and then the next Miss-serious-pants). Then I wonder if I "tried" to fit mine because that's how I thought I was supposed to be? Although, I keep thinking that's just how I am. Maybe I'm just inherently, fundamentally conflicted? Yes, perhaps-- (as this very paragraph would testify).

J.D. also fits his really well. He can be loveably stubborn sometimes but is always tremendously loyal and caring. I also notice that most of my friends are compatible or similar signs. Hmmm....

Happy big 400 Milton!

I wandered over to the English department for cake this afternoon. (Silly enough, it was my breakfast; I stayed up until 4:30 a.m. last night).

Anyway, today was Milton's birthday party!

I love odd-English types. We will come up with any reason to eat desserts. (Check the calendar; whose birthday is it tomorrow!?) Well, that and Milton was a pretty exquisite poet. Some of his lines are as delicious as chocolate cake, yet I suppose it's an acquired taste. We ate cake and sat around listening to people read small portions of their favorite verses. Here at the Harvard of the Midwest (snicker, snicker, ha ha) we like things a little more comfortable. So, we sat in the warm lounge upstairs with our snacks and beverages.

At real Harvard this morning they stood outside in the cold at 7:00 a.m. reading "On the Morning of Christ's Nativity." --Yeah, we're definitely a little softer around here. Although, we did read for an hour. Also I got to talk to a former student and a former professor, chit-chatting about dissertation stuff. I'm happy I went. I was contemplating remaining antisocial at home.

Here's "Sonnet 7" that we read today about lost youth (sigh) and the elusive employment of fleeting talent (sigh, sigh again). Excepting the cake, it brings to mind the last seven years:

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near;
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endueth.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which time leads me, and the will of heaven:
All is, if I have grace to use it so
As ever in my great task-master's eye.

Well, and excepting the manhood bit, of course. Here is a reading of this poem I found online. (You really have to look at it). I think my favorite part is the analysis: "He points out that he has not grown to be a man because 'no bud or blossom shew'th.' 'Bud,' in my opinion, refers to facial hair and 'blossom' to blossoming pecks or muscles."

It's also entertaining that "Dr. Spork" at the end of the comments mentions the entire reading is wrong. Anyway, so much for people reading Milton.

I'll leave you with my favorite lines from "Il Penseroso":

And let some strange mysterious dream
Wave at his wings in airy stream
Of lively portraiture displayed,
Softly on my eyelids laid.
And as I wake, sweet music breathe
Above, about, or underneath,
Sent by some spirit to mortals good,
Or the unseen genius of the wood.
But let my due feet never fail,
To walk the studious cloister's pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antique pillars' massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight,
Casting a dim religious light.
There let the pealing organ blow
To the full-voiced choir below,
In service high, and anthems clear,
As may with sweetness, through mine ear,
Dissolve me into ecstasies,
And bring all heaven before mine eyes.

Why I'm not in the Construction business

Since having back pain this fall, I've started going to a chiropractor on a regular basis. Today we were laughing about his misadventures in getting a room built onto their home for their newborn daughter.

It started when he noticed that the contractor had left a gap of weird empty space (about an inch) between an old and new wall. He said, "What about this gap? Are you going to fill it or do something with it?" The contractor hadn't noticed the gap. His real reply was that he would fix it.

I said the more entertaining thing would be to say it was symbolic and represented the void in one's life. Pretending to be the contractor: "We were all pretty depressed that day."

But this is just my absurd humor, in which I find it delightful to think of a contractor going around building false walls as a philosophic statement.

At least there would be a reason for a job done badly! :)

Mildly entertaining

USDA Official Takes Courageous Stand Against Interstate Countercyclical Potato Pricing
Maybe it's the nematode joke that makes it funny to me.

Freewrite

I don't know how this is going to come together. I've been watching stupid television and feeling lazy all day. So, I decided I just needed to write something, even something rambling, incomplete, ungrammatical, silly, and with mixed metaphors.

Upon finishing the translation of Things Past the other day, I had one of those rare but meaningful moments when I remember what it is I love. --Those moments when you're caught up in aesthetic completion, those moments some books make us feel. This book was such an immense labor of time, going through it. And while some passages along the way are vivid, lovely, and wonderful... there are also moments that annoy, as the character wallows in his possessive jealousy or recounts tales of casual sex with milk, bakery, and grocer "girls." (But, now I'm getting side-tracked). Because the experience was one of greater beauty, and lingering on the more annoying aspects makes me forget my larger point. The point is that I'm grateful to be able to appreciate this sort of work of art, to be able to see the bigger picture, to get aesthetic pleasure from a text.

Then there was Thanksgiving, and I began to realize that I should be thankful for who I am --. If you think about it, really, the odds of you being you and me being me were crazy. First, none of our ancestors had to die from plague or a dinosaur (Kentucky science) before some other ancestor of ours was born. Secondly, consider the odds we were up against even with the thousands of eggs and innumerable sperm.... (ok, I wander again). My point is that I'm ok with my own existence. I have been blessed with the ability to feel and experience some few things in unique ways. I don't mean to sound like an ass, although with the egoism involved in blogging, I'm afraid I probably come across that way a lot. (I really try not to). I think there are thousands of ways of appreciating beauty, and we're all given unique insights and ways to contribute to the whole. As an example, I wish I had some insight into the beauty of math. I know some individuals can see in numbers, formulas, and proofs a pleasurable pattern; they perceive a beauty I can only realize exists, but I do not get to personally experience. They have an insight with the universe that deepens it. They add to God's creation by adding to God's experience of her creation.

Many people understand the underlying aesthetic wonder of nature itself, of painting, of music --we all get glimpses of the undercurrents of beauty rippling through different dimensions of our world. We tap into the groundwater now and then, even if it's a short, shallow drink. Still the water is cool and refreshing. Our souls receive life and are enlarged. This is also the spiritual experience. This is also love and friendship. These are the cherished and wonderful things that we all hold very dear.

But to hear a beautiful sonata is only one level. Imagine being Mozart. There is the human working through layers of deeper connection to creativity itself. Bringing back that vision, that touching of the stars, to share with other hearts and minds, not given the direct involvement.

Still, each time someone new experiences a beautiful song or finds something worthy, it deepens the universe's memory and experience of it. What I'm also saying is that we don't have to be Mozart. Each time something beautiful is relived and recreated, we participate in the life of beauty, of the life of art, in life itself (whatever mysterious purpose it has). So, while I do not create works of art, I feel the current of beauty running through them, some more than others. And that is a blessing. It is a gift to get a sense of completion from a text that feels like more than the writer, more than the words, more than myself.

The other day I was reading about a technique where painters use two colors alongside each other to create the impression of a third color. The third color isn't "really" there-- but it's the combination of the two and the human mind's filtering of the experience that gives rise to something more than what simply meets the eye. I feel lucky to get moments of seeing the third color when I read. I think some of us have that wellspring, and while we may often be burdened by thinking so much about something, at times it loses all distinction and becomes a mere blur, we also get the pleasure of a level of understanding not small in its beauty.

This sense, this third color also emerges in our personal lives and relationships. It emerges in our friendships and in our marriages. Think of how in a marriage you become more than a single person; you become a couple. You're both still complete individuals (in good marriages) but a third quality emerges, and that is the quality of you two together. That aspect that comes through is love and the unique way your relationship develops and adds to this world. They say when people are married "two become one," but I see it a little differently. My math doesn't add up I suppose. 1 + 1 = 3 . Again, back to me not understanding math!

Now, I feel the need to step back. Certainly I am a little speck of dust. There are people much, much smarter, more creative, more insightful, more everything. But for my lump of clay, I contribute to God's experience of beautiful things and add my humble love and ecstatic excitement, at least every now and then. That is what I can hope for and can be happy to feel on occasion. To be ungrateful would be to diminish the generosity of a thoughtful gift.

I know too that I have friends that feel and understand similar experiences. I know they access similar points of beauty. I have friends that know more than I do and have deeper wells into areas I do not venture. Some of them participate in the living waters of knowledge, especially specialized areas, of music, or art, of different types of literature, of different languages, philosophies, and ideas. We each have our own way of uniquely experiencing beauty through, being, and beyond ourselves. And while we may not see them all, we can still celebrate them.

Lying

I walked to a doctor's appointment today and left the apartment at 2:00 p.m., so as to give myself plenty of time. My appointment was for 3:30. I got there at 2:45 and wondered what on earth I would do. But it was a good sign that no one else was in the waiting room. Fortunately, for me, this doctor doesn't have many patients, and they took me right in, especially after I explained why I was so early.

I apologized to the receptionist: "I'm sorry I'm so early; I walked here." I pulled off J.D.'s black cap I had worn and started smoothing down my hair.

She gave me a quizzical look: "All the way from Washington?" Shocked, she glanced at the address from my open file. "Wow, that's a few miles!"

"Yes--" Me, thinking it was really no big deal. I just made the trip quicker than I thought I would. Is it really so strange that a person would walk anywhere? Maybe she was shocked because of the cold weather too. (It's in the low 30s here today).

But I didn't say that. Instead, I blurted out "My car was stolen."

Now, you may ask, what little imp gave me that devilish thought? Perhaps it was because she was already so shocked, part of me wanted to play the game further to really shock her?

If so, it wasn't conscious. I rather naively and innocently just tried to explain the reason I walk almost everywhere. I've been living with the reality of my car being stolen for several years now. I didn't stop to realize how someone unfamiliar with myself would interpret this as a recent event. (Or how most people with stolen cars actually replace them in a timely manner).

She gazed at me, astounded. "Oh!"

Then I realized I couldn't easily explain this event happened several years ago. So, I decided to just play along like the last 3 or 4 years didn't exist.

She snapped into action: "Oh, come right this way, you poor thing. Go right into the office on the left. The doctor will be in a minute."

When he comes in, the receptionist has evidently told him, and he asks me more questions about my stolen car than my health. Go figure. I guess it was the trade-off for fibbing. I ended up telling him the version of when my car was crashed and a bottle of Jim Beam left in the backseat as evidence.

He was then upset about the degenerate youth of today: "They're all either drunk or on drugs or don't have licences." -- I'm not entirely sure how that last one fit in.-- But he told me that he himself didn't like driving much. "I could never figure out the brake thing. My dad told me if I wanted to stop, to just run into a tree. I'm amazed I'm still here."

This was the friendliest this doctor had ever been with me. I didn't mind his chatting about his adolescence. It was fairly amusing. The whole visit was rather funny, and I was laughing to myself as I left.

And I made it home by 3:45-- not too long after my appointment was supposed to start!

Speaking of Faith

I really enjoy "Speaking of Faith" on Sunday mornings, when I remember to listen to it. Recently I discovered the podcast availability of all its programs.

I just finished listening to the one on Revenge and Forgiveness:

"Michael McCullough describes science that helps us comprehend how revenge came to have a purpose in human life. At the same time, he stresses, science is also revealing that human beings are more instinctively equipped for forgiveness than we've perhaps given ourselves credit for. Knowing this suggests ways to calm the revenge instinct in ourselves and others and embolden the forgiveness intuition."

Usually the hour-long program just helps me reflect on things I value, and it helps refocus my energy and thoughts. I always feel I learn something too. I really enjoyed the discussion with Polkinghorne "Quarks and Creation." Polkinghorne's description of God is one of the closest to my own way of thinking, to a large extent. Anyway, sometimes the music is cheesy, but for the most part, it's one of the best programs on various aspects of spirituality. I've also downloaded these episodes: The Spirituality of Parenting ; The Inner Landscape of Beauty; Inside Mormon Faith; and The Ethics of Eating. Most of them are pretty good.

Let me know if there is an episode you'd like to listen to, maybe we could discuss it further together. I'd be interested in other takes on any of them.

This is just getting silly now:

Ok, Pres. Elect Obama -- I voted for you. I went around and knocked on doors for you. I even donated money to get you elected.

But I definitely don't need a coffee mug for $15. This smacks of Jim Bakker!

This is an e-mail I received today:

"This holiday season, celebrate the historic accomplishment of our movement for change. Treat yourself or a loved one to a limited edition Obama coffee mug. Make a donation of $15 or more right now and get an official Obama mug to mark an amazing year."

And I just got this e-mail, offering me a $35 calendar!

"This holiday season, celebrate the historic accomplishment of our movement for change. Treat yourself or a loved one to a limited edition four-year calendar featuring some of the best images from the campaign trail. Make a donation of $35 or more right now and get an official Obama calendar to mark an amazing year."

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p.s. Catherine was it André Gide (1869-1951) she uses as an example? If so, I just encountered him in my reading today!

A sure sign of the impending apocalypse

The world is ending.

Jim Bakker has his own show again! I just saw this monstrosity while flipping through the t.v. stations. He came onto the stage with a microphone and his new wife Lori to sell religious jewelry, books, and t-shirts.

He shouts: "Proclaim your faith; show you're proud of Jesus through your jewelry; testify," and they cut to an image of a woman with a 5 inch, huge silver cross around her neck. Then they show her glittering bracelet with inscribed crosses. (Bling, bling).

Is it delusional of me to think the guy who overthrew the money-changers' tables in the temple might have a slight problem with this? (Or with selling t-shirts for $20.00 -- a so-called "love gift" for the ministry?)

They tell people the t-shirts are 20 bucks, but if you send in $100, they'll give you six t-shirts instead of five. This is the message:

Christ is
Christmas

And Jim points to the shirt held up in front of him with his index finger: "'Christ,' 'Christmas'-- 'Christ,' -- 'mas' -- get it? Isn't that clever and brilliant!?"

Because Christmas isn't about materialism; it's about Christ, right Jim? He concludes: "Now who in your friends and family wouldn't enjoy that under their tree?"

Then some guy starts singing: “without him, Christmas lights would all be dim.”

Next, they sit down to chat about prosperity, turducken, and witchcraft: "If you're a Christian, you don't have to worry about witchcraft." And they hand out talking, plastic "Word of God" swords-- that say "The word of God is mightier than any sword"-- to three kids in the studio audience. (They're in Branson, Missouri from what I can gather).

After that, they continue "selling" things, although Jim keeps saying "selling" and he gets corrected by the singing guy that they are "offering" love gifts, not "selling" them.

(Only, you have to pay for them with love, which means dollars).