Coffee Means?

I've been meaning to post something on the philosophical implications of coffee for some time now, but I can't seem to wrap my brain around any concrete thoughts on the subject.

I started the conversation with Anna Grace a couple of weeks ago.

"Why do you drink coffee?" I asked her.

I would try to paraphrase her answer, but I didn't get her permission (which is just an excuse because really, I'm not very good at paraphrasing). Basically, she started drinking coffee on a trip in Costa Rica. The coffee smelled so good, and really was so delicious that she enjoyed drinking it for the first time ever. In Costa Rica, it seems, they drink it very strong, and very sweet. Her further answers are her own, so I'll leave those to her in the comments section of this post, where I hope I can get a conversation going. (Anna, you can direct any complaints concerning the violation of your privacy to my self-publishing compliancy officer, in other words, email me.)

I drink coffee because I like the way it tastes, but also because it seems to have some sort of symbolic meaning.

I tried to explain to Anna that the drinking of coffee is a social act even when its social aspect is removed, except that doesn't really make any sense. All I know is that I drink a cup of coffee in the morning, not because I'm addicted to the caffeine, but because there is something I like about the act of drinking coffee.

Is it a club, like my sister suggested? Does the way you take your coffee confer any particular status? I like coffee because I like it, but I also seem to like some image of myself drinking coffee.

Does anyone out there know what I'm trying to say better than I do?

Bragging on a Great Christmas Gift

My mother-in-law gave me something called a Potato Baken Bag for Christmas. It's just the coolest cooking implement I own. All it is is a fabric bag with one of those pocket closures just like on the old cheap sandwich bags. You wash your potato, wrap it up in a paper towel, and close it in the bag. You can then bake the potato in the microwave oven in approximately 4 minutes, and when it is done you can cut the potato with a fork. You don't even have to stab the potato with a fork before cooking.

Last night I used the bag to cook a large sweet potato. Since it was so large I went ahead and put it in for 8 minutes. When it was done I mashed it up with my potato masher, sprinkled it with salt, and then poured waffle syrup on it. It was really good.

I don't know how you feel about microwaves, but the thing I like about this preparation method is that you don't lose the nutrients you would otherwise lose by boiling, for mashed potatoes. And, it is so fast and easy that I can throw potatoes in with a meal at the very last minute if I find I need to. I don't know what the fiber contact of the bag is, or if there is anything special about the fabric.

Confession

Sunday night I walked into my friend's home for the very first time, and I was able to express my enthusiasm loudly, and without reserve. I don't usually feel so free, nor so immediately at home. I came home from the bible study that night full of excitement, but also with an ugly realization.

I see that I am very self-centered right now. There are modes of expression open to me at this time that rarely have been open before, and so I find myself talking a lot. Some of it is really worth-while, some of it is vainglorious, and some of it has to do with the fact that I am feeling connected at an unprecedented level.

These are good things over all, but I make this confession because I realize that it will take some time for me to balance listening and questioning with stating.

I worried about this, casually, for about half-an-hour, and then I realized that if I confess it, it will be that much easier to achieve an appropriate level of perspective.

On a related subject: I have not enjoyed a group of women so much since Becky Suarez invited me into her Bible Study when I was a Freshman in college.

Lysol Three-in-One All Purpose Cleaner and Oxy-clean: Directions for Use

I need help. I have one bottle of Lysol Three-in-One All-Purpose Cleaner that the bottle says is dilutable. The directions talk about different ways to dilute the product, or they talk about using it at full strength but rinsing well with water. I'm using this product to clean my bathroom. I bought a spray bottle for it yesterday. Does anyone out there have experience with this product who can tell me how to use it?

I also have a small container of Oxy-clean. I don't have experience with this product either. I've tried following it's package directions, but didn't find that very effective. How do you use Oxy-clean?

An Unflattering Portrait of the Author as a Little Girl, or Why I Always Get a Box of Chocolate Covered Cherries for Christmas

It was a Baptist Sunday School Christmas Party. I don't know how old I was, only that we were already living in Alabama. The party was at an adult's house.

There were gifts to be exchanged based on numbers to be drawn. My memory of the event is vivid. The little girl who's gift I drew, and whose name I clearly remember, said to me, "I hope you like it. I think you will. I don't know anyone who doesn't like these."

What do you suppose I found when I unwrapped that present?

Chocolate Covered Cherries. I don't know whether I even knew what Chocolate Covered Cherries were, but I knew I did not like them. They most certainly were NOT my idea of an appropriate gift. My disappointment was overwhelming and I threw an absolute fit, a tantrum. I cried and cried and my parent's had to come and take me home.

I remember the event and the little girl from time to time. For many years the memory filled me with guilt and shame, and I know that I have worried about how I made that little girl feel, just like I've worried about that little old lady whose groceries I once accidentally took home ("Walmart and My One Year Old Do NOT Mix Well", 11/17/07).

The part of the story I think is funny follows:

I worked almost four years as secretary at a local law firm, during which time I discovered that one of the attorney's there had hosted that Sunday School Christmas Party so many years before. I do not know whether he had any memory of the event--I believe it was his wife who actually handled all of the arrangements. When I discovered this connection I did not hesitate to mention it to the attorney in question. When I had laughingly finished my story he said to me, with a perfectly straight face, "Oh, you're THAT girl. My wife still talks about that."

While I am honestly ashamed of my behavior on that, and other similar occasions, I realize that God has used all of my experiences to make me who I am today. While I know that I have not consistently pleased Him through the years, I do know that He has consistently loved me, and that the hard heart of a difficult child can be transformed into the soft and malleable heart of a child of God.

Stepping Back Again

I haven't run out of things to say. It's just that the things I want to say are too involved, there are too many stories, too many details to sort out, too many interconnections, in some ways too much guilt as I realized how self-centered is my intellectual work right now. It's hard for me to write right now because I cannot begin and end in one sitting, therefore I cannot find my way to begin.

There's a story about why I hate chocolate covered cherries, though I do not hate them any more. There is a story about growing and becoming, and how do you find your way into that one? There's a story about being saved that does not follow any tradition. There is anxiety about being different from my peers for so much of my life, though that percentage reduces itself as I age. Some of this stuff is personal, although I do not fear embarrassment. I have always accepted myself, though I haven't always expected anyone else to.

This post is a glimpse of things going on inside.

"A Message From the Lord"--Jonah: A Veggie Tales Movie

Here I am watching Veggie Tales for the THIRD time today. It's bad, it's bad letting Parker watch so much tv. My excuse is that we're getting over sickness. Besides, it's allowing me to write, since Parker only napped about an hour this morning. Parker really enjoys the music, but I realized earlier this week that part of the appeal of the music for him includes the figures on the screen.

Some things I noticed from the movie on SECOND viewing this morning.

#1: I don't quite understand why Jonah says that the message he brings is one of encouragement and peace, when really he is reminding God's people of the law. A scribe in the audience comments, within the framework of the song, that "This is quite a lot of rules." On the other hand, Jonah does point out that "If you follow God's commands there will be peace throughout our land." This seems to me a very Old Testament approach, which is entirely appropriate considering the source of the story. Unless I've missed it, I don't believe the impossibility of keeping the law is even mentioned until the New Testament. Please set me straight if you recall a reference.

#2: How much time do you imagine was spent in discussion when the artists chose to illustrate this line "Wear four tassels on your cloak." They show a vegetable (I forget which kind) wearing a robe, but showing only three tassels. These are asymmetrically placed (i.e. you see one hanging from one corner of the robe, but not from the other).

Don Chaffer and Waterdeep

I was reminded of this song in church last Sunday. At one point William Scroggins used a few of the scriptural words from the chorus. I wished that I could sing it there myself:

http://www.waterdeep.com/songs/learninghow

The preview button only provides a couple of lines from the intro to the song.

(It was a wonderful surprise to find Jamey on the stage when we arrived there early Sunday morning, by the way.)

Metanarrative/Metablogging

Remember how I've complained about the formatting capabilities of blogger in the past? This morning I accidentally moused over a symbol in the right side of my toolbar and discovered that it's function is to remove formatting!

Something to Think About

One of the first things I learned when I entered the Interior Design Program at The University of Alabama was that in certain philosophies of interior design ornamentation should carry meaning, an idea which certainly appealed to me. This was a response against those earlier design philosophies such as French Rococo which said that if a little ornamentation was good, more ornamentation was even better.

The subject came up when I was on Spring Break Outreach with Chi Alpha at Florida State University my Senior Year of College.

We had done a mime routine a bit earlier, and were fitted out in black clothes and white make-up. I wandered with one of our guys around the green searching for students to talk to.

"Why the white make-up?" a young man asked. We explained to him what we had been doing, talked a little bit about University life, as well as our designated courses of study, those things all students have in common. There was a pause, and I said to him, "You know, in interior design I learned that all ornamentation should carry meaning, and yet here I am wearing white make-up. It has no meaning. In a sense this make-up is a violation of my principles as a Christian, one of which is to be honest and transparent in the way that I face the world. What do you think of that?"

From the outside this may not seem like much of an evangelical message, but I believe it opened up the conversation and showed this guy that we were willing to treat him like an actual person we had met instead of as a stop on some imaginary evangelical pilgrimage. (It must have been the work of the Holy Spirit, because I am not very evangelical as a rule.)

I'm thinking about this incident in a couple of ways as we approach the subject of relationship evangelism at Grace Church in the following weeks.

In one sense I'd like us to discuss how ornamentation carries meaning in our lives as Christians as we face the world from day to day. Lauren Winner has a lovely little book called Mudhouse Sabbath that applies to this in some ways. It talks about ways that certain Jewish traditions can be profitably incorporated by the Church.

The other way I'd like to discuss this is in terms of different evangelical techniques that we have tried, the ways that they have been effective, when they are appropriate and when they are not. Mime, for example, can work beautifully in some cases, and in others it may be offensive (in a detrimental way: remember not all offense is detrimental) because it uses artifice to convey an extremely didactic message.

Discussion?

If You're Only Planning to Read One Post Today, Go With the Veggie Tales (Not This One)

You can probably tell that both of these photos are self-portraits. I only post these because there are those in other cities and states who probably won't be seeing me for several weeks.

Yesterday morning I washed my hair for the first time since getting it cut. I knew that it would feel really strange to have it all end at the base of my neck, but still it was shocking, and I found myself in a quandry about whether or not to use conditioner. Figuring out whether or not to use conditioner, by the way, is somewhat like trying to remember whether or not you've brushed your teeth the week after you've started caring for a new baby. It's a question you never thought you'd have to ask.

Then the question became, what am I going to do with this. You see, I'd gotten into the very convenient habit of doing absolutely nothing with my hair post-washing. I'd let it air dry and whatever would be would be. I might possibly, but only possibly, run a comb through it once, and my fingers through it once in a while, while it dried in an attempt to keep my bangs out of my face.

Yesterday I chose to spend a little haphazard time on the subject. I combed my hair with a wide toothed comb, and then I put some caviar mousse in it. I think the caviar mousse was a mistake. I then used an aerated round brush (the electric kind) to give it some shape. I really think the process backfired, and next time I'll try letting it do what it wants to do--again. What will be interesting is seeing what happens next time I wash it at night and allow it to air dry while I sleep, something I assume my hair-dresser would never advise. Still, I'm happy to have this shorter cut, and I'm glad I did it.

I'll describe my rationale behind the hair-cutting at a later date, as well as the reason why my decision to do so was even an issue.

Veggie Tales: It's already started

I have seen the movie Jonah: A Veggie Tales Movie at least once a day every day this week. Parker brings the case over for me to look at at least three times every day, and last night he managed to start the movie all by himself . (I tried to interest him in The Muppets Take Manhattan earlier this week, but he just didn't go for it.)

So I'm sitting here this morning, with Parker eating breakfast on my right, and the movie running on my left (it just ended), and in the Newsboy's track of the credits I hear--"How long is this going to take?"

Last night I started a book by Larry Crabb that Padre loaned me called The Papa Prayer. The premise of the book is that our usual approach to prayer is all wrong, and that prayer is more about enjoying the relationship than it is posting our problems and concerns. Seems rather obvious, doesn't it? Though if we really understood prayer this way, and enjoyed our relationship with God this way, prayer wouldn't be the burden or require the discipline from so many of us that it is and does. Looks like a good book. ("Limit yourself to one chapter at a time," he recommended.)

"How long is this going to take?" is something I have often wondered as I've prayed about a certain situation in the life of our family. Michael has had the same job for nearly the length of our marriage, and I have long prayed that he would find more satisfying employment. In seven years of searching, little has changed except that he gets to play the saxophone even less now than he once did. Some weeks before Christmas it hit me. If we believe that God is our provider, and He has not yet chosen to provide my husband with another job, it must be because He wants him where he is.

There are lots of reasons why this may be. I can make certain guesses based on what I know about the nature of God, but what Michael and I need to begin to pray is that God will bring us into agreement with Him that whatever it is, His will be done. It's not that I haven't prayed this way before, but the sudden realization on a December evening in 2007 imbued my previous knowledge with renewed meaning. Then the simple line from a Newsboys recording reminds me that God knows (understands, acknowledges) how I feel in the meantime.

Something a Bit More Practical

If you didn't like my last post (and I won't hold it against you if you didn't) here's one that should be a little more palatable.

I received, at my request, a drying rack for Christmas. Now I'm looking for advice on the most effective way to use it. Here's what I've learned so far.

Most clothes come off of this thing stiff as a board and full of wrinkles. You really can't fit very much laundry on it. The point I've come to is that if I really want to air dry the majority of my laundry I will have to do laundry approximately every other day in much smaller loads than I have been accustomed to. In most cases I will probably wind up throwing the clothes into the dryer for ten minutes or so there at the end anyway.

Any suggestions on how to most effectively arrange the clothes on the drying rack?

To Be An Example, Part II

I have so many half-baked ideas in my mind about things to write about right now that I'm not certain I can avoid making a muddle of all of them. So I'll start with something I threatened to write about before: the other area in which I have felt that I needed to be an example.

Nursing in public.

I have mostly avoided this subject up until now because of it's sensitive nature and the fact that I am writing to a mixed audience. (This actually became a hot issue not long before Parker was born. Baby Talk magazine issued a controversial cover that pictured a nursing baby. They got all kinds of negative press for doing so, and several critics unjustifiably described the photo as pornography.)

After Parker was born I really had to fight to nurse him for physical reasons. Because of this, and because the right to nurse in public had become such a public issue, I felt that it was my duty as Parker's mother, and as a Christian, believe it or not, to demonstrate to others that it could be done, in public, with discretion. I wanted other mothers to know that if they needed to nurse in public it was alright to do so. And I did.

I know this (nursing at all, nursing publicly, nursing for more than a few months) isn't the right decision for every woman. There was a principle involved, and I personally felt that I had to take it on.

Of course as old as Parker is now, public nursing really is an impossibility. I will however share a story that occurred just before Christmas. Anna had invited me and Parker to join her for lunch on campus. School was pretty much out, exams were mostly over, so there were still people around, but not as many as you would typically find. It was almost time for me to leave to pick up Michael from work, we were on the quad, and Parker was READY for a nurse.

Guess what I did. I publicly and purposefully, in love of course, embarrassed my little sister. Right there on a park bench I plopped down and fed my baby. Mostly we went un-noticed. However, there was this one guy who walked by with hands thrust deep in pockets and eyes turned up to the sky. I said to Anna Grace, "That guy knows exactly what I'm doing."

"And he's determined not to see," she answered.

Note: This was on a college campus where people were most likely to be offended with the least excuse.

Pictures of Parker and Me

Michael forgot to take my picture last night and Parker refuses to do so unless I get him his own camera, so you're stuck with pictures of Parker's hair cut. I'll post a picture of me later, if and only if I can get a good one, as broken out as my face is right now. At least now I don't look in the mirror and flash on Richard Briers (http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001972/). Don't worry--Michael didn't really get that one either. And I love my hair this length.

Working on Pretty

I've cut my hair, just as I threatened I would. Parker and I went in this afternoon and got our hair cut together. (We do everything together, you know, even nap.) My hair is now just over chin length and very full and Michael hasn't seen it yet. It occurs to me that this is approximately what it looked like around the time we met. I hope that it will remind him more of choosing me than it will my wanting nothing to do with him.

I'm sitting here on the sofa, looking at a still frame of *Lost* season two, sipping a cup of hot water, lemon juice and honey, thinking, "Maybe I should have bought that larger bottle of lemon juice," and, "Doesn't that Nature's Own Butterbread look yummy?"

In case anyone was dying to know what I think about at 4:15 on a Tuesday afternoon in January.

Exterior Design

We are in the market for a new front door and screen. The setup we have right now includes what I believe is the home's original door, one of those hollow core deals with a diamond shaped glazed opening, and no deadbolt, incidentally. Our storm door is, well, a storm door. It is metal, and loud, and unlockable, which will make it next to useless in keeping Parker safely inside the house on those gorgeous spring days that are coming. I love letting the fresh air in at doors and windows, weather permitting. Right now fresh air without accompanying bugs (and other hazards) just isn't a possibility.

So what would I like to get? The house was built in 1946, and relying on my own memory of architectural styles, I'm thinking Charles Remey McIntosh, Greene & Greene, the Arts & Crafts movement, and my favorite architect, Frank Lloyd Wright. Maybe I'd throw in a touch of something different just for fun. If I could remember the name of the style I'm thinking of, I would throw it's name in here. It's the one with lots of curves and silhouettes. I'm thinking that a lot of posters were done in and based upon this period.

The problem with architectural dreams, of course, is that they usually require vast amounts of disposable income, something I just don't have.

The house is a simple house, after all, so anything very fancy would be out of keeping with its primary features.

I've remembered (2 1/2 hours later). The style I was trying to remember was Art Neuveaux (sp?)!

More on Living with Baby

Here's another question for the moms and dads.

Parker is at the age where he's ready to become a little more independent. After taking him in for his check-up on Tuesday I discovered how wonderful (though messy) it is to let your child feed himself. It's great! I can put him in his highchair with his food, and enjoy my meal in relative peace. I can talk to him, or read to him, instead of spoon feeding him through every meal or snack. I can wash dishes while he works on his oatmeal. I can edit articles while he munches on an apple.

The problem I have at this point as that we potentially waste a lot of food this way. He ate a good bit of oatmeal this morning, as evidenced by his first dirty diaper of the day, but I'll be scraping the rest of it into the trash as soon as I finish this post. I can't really save it for later under the circumstances.

Any advice?

Living with Baby

I may have told my friend an inadvertent lie. She came to visit me from Arkansas a couple of weeks ago. She was only here for an hour or so, but in that time I told her that it was possible to keep a neat house even with a baby in the home. I hope I followed that statement up with the truth that you'll make the time to put things away if that is something that's important to you. Sometimes I succeed in this, and sometimes I do not.

For the past few weeks I have not succeeded. It is frustrating to realize that cleaning up the kitchen and the highchair really is a never ending process.

Bamboo, Bamboo, and more Bamboo

This is a plea for help, advice, instructions, references, helpful websites, what have you. Lots of people on my side of town have bamboo in their yards, I gather, so I hope that someone who reads this blog will have some helpful information to share.

The back of our yard is full of bamboo. New sprouts shoot up all the time, but at some time in the past an occupant of the house must have started working on this because the old growth is limited to the area immediately around our chain link fence. A lot of the bamboo actually in our yard is already dead, and I discovered recently that a lot of it is surprisingly easy to pull up. Sometimes the stalk remains in the ground and sometimes the shoot comes up root and all.

I'd like to clear as much of the dead stuff out as I can. This process is often complicated by the fact that there is a power line running across the back of our property. There is actually a power pole in the back of our yard.

My immediate issue is how to properly dispose of the stuff I've already pulled out. Beyond that, I'd like additional advice about making my yard safe for Parker to play in, containing the stuff, etc. I also have fallen leaf issues as well. Not bamboo related, but I'm wondering how to get what looks like tons and tons of leaf fall out of the back yard.

Memories of "A Christmas Carol"

Fifteen years ago, my brother, Daniel, and I appeared in A Christmas Carol. The show wasn't put on by Children's Theater back then. It was a Theater Tuscaloosa production.

Paul Looney was the director. I thought he was wonderful. He would sometimes smoke and yell and curse and I loved it. I ran in to him somewhere several years ago and he still remembered my name. I get excited about seeing people like that like most people get excited about celebrities. I have the same feeling about an old art professor of mine. Knowing they are in the world makes me happy.

I was Frances and Daniel was Peter. The first thing I remembered when I started thinking about that long ago production was that Tiny Tim used his cain to try and look up my dress while we waited for our cue to run down the theaters aisle. I remember being friends with the man who played my father (Bob Cratchett). He worked at the Tuscaloosa Candy Company downtown and I imagined him with a giant taffee pulling machine every time I drove by, not understanding that cigarettes and alcohol are called "candy" as well. I remember going to a cast party at someones house near downtown Northport, and being advised to try the chicken salad at the Globe Restaurant. I remember working on the blocking of that scene where Martha hides to surprise her father inside the Cratchett home, and the turkey (or was it a pudding) we used as a prop.

That was the last time I had the opportunity to participate in an actual production.

Coffee Questions

How would one make coffee out of burnt toast (See Dillard post below)?

On Little House on the Prairie Caroline often offers to make coffee for Charles. What do you imagine this is that Charles drinks every night after supper? What I'm really asking is how was coffee prepared in the years immediately following the Civil War.

While I'm asking questions, do you think it would traumatize Parker if his mother got a shorter haircut after 15 months of seeing it long?

Right now I'd rather be reading or catching up on Lost while the first three seasons are posted on the network's website. Not very conducive to writing projects, I'm afraid. Meanwhile I have another project that I'm working on, so don't be surprised if you don't hear anything out of me for several days.

Dillard Writes Such Beautiful Sentences About Plain Things

I have gotten Annie Dillard's novel The Living from the library exactly twice. Both times I have attempted to read it, and both times my attempts have failed. This last time I said to Michael, "I really want to read this book but I just can't. Her sentences are beautiful. She's a wonderful writer, but she goes into these high levels of detail about things that just aren't interesting to me. I scan through the pages looking for dialogue and there is very little." Michael suggested that if I really wanted to read it perhaps I should treat it like a technical exercise. Read to discover how she composes and punctuates such wonderful sentences.

I'll give you the example I gave Michael a few nights ago. You might need to read this sentence out loud to notice how wonderfully balanced it is:

"One November night after a supper of dried salmon and potatoes, the Fishburns sat in the Rushes' dark cabin drinking coffee made from burnt toast."

There is a short story appearing in The Annie Dillard Reader, the events occur at some point in the novel. I enjoyed the short story very much, even though it isn't the sort of fiction I would typically read. I think that if I really were a serious reader I would persist through all the detail of the novel, but alas, I am not really a serious reader. Maybe next time I take the book out of the library I will make even more headway.