Rejoice!

For the time of busy Christmas has come! After a week in Charlotte, where we began our month long holiday, we've been part of a friend's big wedding, Elizabeth's great college-graduation party, three late night dinner parties at the Trent House, and in between, picking out a house in a whole new city we've never been to before! It's all good stuff, but -wow-what a change of pace for two elderly young ones whose normal bedtime is 9:30pm.

So, we'll be off to absorb all this funness and visiting to the seclusion of the mountains for the night of our Two Year Anniversary (woohoo!). We'll wake up the next day on the other side of the mountains, after we make our way into Tennessee for Christmas at High Meadow Farm. Merry Christmas, ahoy!

Transition Time

It is that time of year again...and for our household the Christmas season has become synonomous with moving. Not that moving is bad, in fact we both feel that moving is a great adventure that presents all kinds of new opportunities.

However, the new opportunities do not outshine the opportunities and the friends that were had and made in the old place. There never fails to be a feeling of sadness and loss with a move, no matter how excited you are about where you are going.

May our prayer be that God would bless and keep, protect and enable, and guide and direct, just as He always has, just as He always will.

Lady Red Hawk Day

Look what Electra did today!! I'm the one in the back of the jet. We got to taxi on the runway and make a half-takeoff (not actually leave the ground) then saw behind the scenes in the control towers and even got in the simulators, where I got landed on the carrier! The simulated catapult wasn't so hot; I flipped my jet into the blue yonder right off the edge of the boat!My big red wings callsign: "Belle." Boards was one of the volunteer van drivers, a great tour guide if you ever need one. He's very patient with giggly girls in baggy, hiked-up rolled flight suits!

Thanksgiving

From the summer family reunion to the Thanksgiving feast at the Herrings this year, we have much to be thankful for!
We ate dinner with about 30 family members and then a few friends from our neighbourhood. Afterwards, some of the guys started a game of toss the football in the car-lined street, where our various minivans and suburbans and SUVs didn't seem to mind the occasional missed ball. The girls joined in after touring an ancient graveyard across the street. By sunset, we were ready for Round Two of pie before everyone departed for more gatherings at each of the grandparents' houses. Eric and I joined the Hoeses who live across the bay from Rockport, tucked away in a dense semi-tropical jungle. Neither of us wanted the fun to end, but sleep has a way of stealing away our best intentions.

one fine day

The last flight is scheduled. It's a bittersweet moment, for all the memories of toil and struggle, a precious few airtime epiphanies, and then the fellows who went down to be cast out only highten one's awareness of impending failure--for no one's "too good" to be un-selected. For Kermit, the end is in sight; the beginning of a new day of more training. In between, we will be glad to waste some rubber on the road and cruise at the hum-drum speed of 75 to meet Christmas in the southern mountains.

A star was born

Two and something decades ago, a baby called Rahab was born. Today we celebrate from afar. Happy Birthday! I hope USPS hand-delivery guy can find your doorstep.

Lovely Sunday Afternoon

Here it is November 2nd, and the the weather down here has finally gotten cool enough to ENJOY the outdoors. Last Sunday we had the opportunity to spend the day on the bay with our friends. Thanks Steve and Michelle for the link to the pictures!

What a day

This week brings many happy and some unwelcome changes to the neighbourhood. One of my friends is leaving, leaving me with her students, and their loss of an inspiring young teacher. So, we'll have to do something to throw her a mini classroom party. Then there's the winging this weekend of the Duncans and Dowds, among others, which signals the imminent departure of those families. But the winging is considered a great celebration of accomplishment and no small mercy: the triumph of God's work in our patched up heads and bandaged hands. Finally, the Marine Corps Ball. Dinner and dancing and dressing up like queens and kings from ever so many kingdoms.

Fall came to K-ville....

and lasted for about two days... Well, it is cooler which is a very welcome relief. To celebrate, we and our friends held a Fall Festival last Friday eve. It was a glorious affair. We carved pumpkins, ate pumpkin pie, enjoyed good conversation, and held frog races. Yes, frog races.

We were introduced to this fine tradition by our friends from the upper penninsula of Michigan. Known as "Da Yupers" by those close to them, they have certainly added a whole new dimension to the celebration of changing seasons.

The Frog race goes as follows: A circle is made with a rope, or line, that is ten feet in diameter. The frogs are then let go in the middle and the first one out of the circle is the winner. Mine won! In fact, I think he set some sort of frog record; 5.7 seconds from the center of the circle to the outside.

New

If you peruse the right hand side of the page you will find a new link to Reformation 21, a website that contains all kinds of good stuff for the discerning Christian. Speaking of the Reformation; what are YOU doing for Reformation Day?

Conservative Gayness and Liberal Living

Whenever I have the opportunity to get to know a new friend and our conversation turns to what I do, the new friend automatically assumes that I am extremely conservative and am Republican to the core. Even among many Evangelical Christians it is widely believed that you cannot be a Christian and a Democrat, or even worse, a liberal. Accordingly, the media and our culture at large feels that the Christian right is a demographic to be feared and an enemy to homosexuals, prostitutes, hard charging businessmen, as well as any form of art or pleasure. While this may characterize some of the Church, it does not encompass it all, and I would argue that we as Christians are the most prepared to live fully, gaily(in the old English sense), and liberally.

What does God require of us as Christians? Well, the prophet Micah sums it up very well: "he has told you O man what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?" (6:8). Justice and kindness are done by living fully under the Word of God. Instead of being a chain to bind His people down, God's Word is freeing, allowing His children to live liberally and to enjoy His creation. As Peter learned: "What God has made clean, do not call common" (Acts 10:15). God's creation is good; He called it good Himself. It is man, fallen and depraved, who has taken what God had created and used it for evil. But even this is not outside of God's will, and even now, creation is anticipating the redemption of God's garden.

And so, where does that leave us? Liberalism without wisdom and prudence is like "a city broken into and and left without walls" (Prov. 25:28). Likewise, Conservativism without wisdom and discretion is doomed to die a slow, grumpy death. We Christians are called to live a full, liberal life under the freeing realm of God's word. We are to care for the fatherless and the widow as well as love the unloveable and care for the needy. Yet at the same time we are to govern with wisdom, subdue the earth, and be fruitful and multiply. In other words, we are to wisely and humbly tend the garden in which we temporarily dwell.

We went to the big city over Columbus day, and found the Botanical gardens to be a pleasant morning's stroll. the night before we stayed at the Bonner House Inn, which is in a beautiful old neighbourhood within walking distance of some "upscale" Mexican food. One of these days, we'll make a veranda of our own to mirror this one.

Kermit flies the desert

While he's gone, allergy season sets in and gives every other person the heavy eye, the nasal voice, the alligator cough. The time has come for a few friends to take their leave, passing on to happier flying grounds. Those left behind are rather forlorn.

Take a drive

join millions of Texans in the Left Lane: http://in-left-lane.blogspot.com/

two great names

Belle and Sebastian. Do you mind if I steal them from your husband's witty hand, Rachel?

Musty Musings

The subject of South Texas I think deserves a blog all to itself, like a book in the making, a virtual dream never to be inflicted upon future generations to read. But--on second thought-- somebody must warn them! Thus, when I find this blog, I'll give you the link and dedicate it to my two friends who are transplanted north landers. Not alone in their sentiments, these women live as iconic reality to me of man's struggle in the wilderness of a tormented earth (see Romans 20-22).

Goshawk Video

Follow the link to access a short video of the mighty T-45 in action... It takes about a minute to load.

Mustachioed No More

There are no words to describe what myself and 24 other guys did this past weekend except Wow! I have never felt the personal effects of prayer as I have over the past few weeks. For those of you out there praying...Thank You!
While I am extraordinarily thankful that the Det went off safely and successfully, Electra and the other wive are especially thankful that their husbands were finally able to shave their mustaches off!

Confessions

We like to write our deepest thoughts and reveal our innermost secret selves--to the right unassuming, non-invasive, sensitive crowd. In Confessions of an Organized Homemaker, Deniece Schofield reveals that the dirt in her house provoked a radical rebellion in her psuedo-messy life: throw out the perfectionism. She preaches the professional approach to housework. Make into a science what one always thought mundane. Of her top Six Principles of Organization, my favourites are "Be motion minded"--store things where you use them, and have duplicate copies of things to store at the place of useage--and "Use accrued benefits," ie., form good habits for the every-day jobs we do. Before I can get control of my house, I have to get some control of myself.

Method To The Madness

Electra and I once again began discussing how we should organize our bookshelves. This discussion comes up every few months, especially when we go looking for a book and can not find it. I have been reluctant to start this task, and not just because it is a big job, but for some other reason that I just have not been able to put my finger in until just the other day.

Electra and I were out with some friends who are also avid readers and we were describing our need to organize our shelves. Their response really struck me as to exactly why I do not want to perfectly organize our library...They said that their bookshelves tell a story. A history if you will on what they have been struggling through, what they are thinking about, and what their interests have been.

Of course! That is brilliant! And it explains perfectly why we have The Art of War next to The Pity of War, Umberto Eco next to Tom Wolfe, C.S. Lewis next to Kant, Modern Art next to Schaeffer's Addicted to Mediocrity. And the list goes on. Once again, this proves to me that just when some things seem to be the most disordered, we find them to make perfect sense.

clouds

Hanging low over the fields, we get little sprinkles in bursts over the newly ploughed land, calming the dust with the soft hands of water drops. Cool breezes chase each other every evening through the gnarled old trees. Summer shows signs of age, the sun running her abbreviated marathon across the sky.

time marches on, and off again

Herbie finds it highly entertaining these days to nip a leg accompanied by an ear busting contata of woofs. Nearing a year old, he's feeling his new age with assertive demands for attention; yes, me now, please. And then he tries to eat the ant bait. One goes to bed in mortal fear of waking to a deadly deflated Herbs. I would then miss his air shattering barks.

Music Makes the World Go 'Round

I really do not have a good ear for music, which is a bit hard to believe due to the size of my ears. I can't carry a tune with a wheelbarrow, and I am so uneducated that I can still not tell you the difference between Mozart and Bach. My gracious wife is working with me on the above items...so, I won't be dumb forever.

However, I love music, especially good music. Music inspires me, it relaxes me, helps me study, and helps me focus on things loftier than things here on terra firma. I have found that I enjoy different music during different parts of the day, and even different music on different days of the week.

Mornings and mid-days find me enjoying Jack Johnson or G-Love. Their folksy, relaxing rythms keep me in a "Chilled out" state and help me remain laid back when my mind is trying to do anything but be laid back. Evenings/ Early Mornings find me enjoying H.E.M. or Over The Rhine. The smooth, beautiful, artisitic sounds of these two groups wrap me up in a big hug of sound as I try to unwind and soothe the adrenaline flowing through my veins after a late night flight. (I have found a little help from Uncle Jack helps as well, you know, the one from Lynchburg, TN) Weekends find me enjoying all of the above, but I have to have my fill of Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson as well. These two keep me humble and focused on what really matters...they sing about life.

I am so thankful for music, for just as it soothed King Saul, it does me also.

I Am Charlotte Simmons

Is amazing. What a good book. Tom Wolfe, while not my favorite author of all time, is very good at cultural satire and tends to be very frank when addressing the issues at hand. In this particular novel, Mr. Wolfe is up front and very "in your face" about the U.S. College scene. He makes no bones about the joke our "places of higher learning" are, nor does he let the more recent generations of Americans off the hook for their behavior.

Though humanistic in his approach, and ultimately setting up Ms. Simmons up for failure due to the premise of the book...as in "I AM Charlotte Simmons...no more and no less...Mr. Wolfe does give us a strong character who stands for what she knows is right. It is only too unfortunate that her ultra conservative parents did not give her more weapons in her cultural arsenal except that drugs, alchohol, sex, and parties are bad and are never to be discussed. That belief does nothing for Charlotte except make her a somewhat disgusted, semi-interested recluse in the goings on around her.

What happens to Charlotte? Well, you will have to read for yourself. But, I would suggest this book to everyone...especially 18 year old girls and their parents...as a guide to America's modern college scene.

I'm back

St Louis is a nice city, full of university people and homeless people and coffee shops and artfully old houses. Huggins and Caulk are actually wedded with troths plighted and bestowed. On Sunday, Kermit awaited me with beach towels in hand to lay out at the beach with our McConnell friends, which is the best way to live in Corpus, a fish in the waves.

Whatever Happened To Peace....

The old fashioned way? Well, it seems that the United Nations, a body of diplomats who know very little about martial matters, seems to have found the solution to the current battle between Israel and their terrorist neighbors. It is utterly amazing to see far we post-modern, relativist, humanists have gone in our faith in humanity. Warfare is no longer a clash between good and evil, oppressor and liberator. It is now a clash between two equal groups who have equally valid claims. Much like two quarreling toddlers.

Unfortunately the enemy does not feel this way. The enemy sees Israel, the west, heck, all infidels as the enemy and in need of extermination. However, the U. N. in its infinite wisdom, backed up by their impressive peacekeeping track record feels that they can settle this dispute. Well, good on them. One of these days America, and indeed all of the west, is going to have to wake up and actually realize that we have an enemy to fight. At least I hope we do!

And Another One Bites The Dust

For those of you who read World Magazine, do you ever look at the letters to the editor? I would say that a slight majority are apt responses and have something interesting to say. But there seems to be a somewhat large number of folks who decry the magazine and proclaim that they wish their subscription to be cancelled because of some sort of cultural reflection or Theological thought.

This is rather upsetting because it seems to point out more and more Christians who do not wish to engage the culture in any form. One imagines the Church poking its head into the sand like an Ostrich. Now, I am not sure if these folks actually read other news publications, but if they do, do they cancel all their other subscriptions if they do not write exactly what agrees with them? I can hardly see how they could read any other publications since World is about the only reasonable voice out there in the vast liberal slop called news.

The point being that as Christians we can not cast off a person, a Church, a community because they may have said something that we do not 100% agree with. We as the Church need to actively engage not only the culture but each other as well. So in effect, I am issuing a challenge to the Church... Grow a pair...Now.

I Will Trust in His Unfailing Love

One of the unfortunate affects of looking back on your life is the reminder of all the areas that you have fallen short. As Christians we understand that we are fallen and that is only by God's Grace through the death of His Son that "greases our hinges" as it were.

I am always sobered by the ways I have demonstrated time and time again that I am nothing more than a depraved sinner. Though I have been convicted over the years on certain shortcomings and by the Grace of God have been able to overcome a very few of them, there is no shortage of new shortcomings that always crop up.

Thankfully, every few weeks, and yes, it does seem to happen on a cycle, I am driven back to the Cross. This is a good thing. Sure, there is some pain(usually self inflicted) associated with the driving, but the end result is utter peace. I recently ran across an editorial written by Andre'e Seu in the July World Magazine that was expressing this very sentiment. Seems that this dilemma effects more people than just me. Andre'e stated that if we focus on our weakness, our failings, and our losses, we are doomed. Instead we must trust in His unfailing love. What a thought. Though we may fail in most of our endeavors His love is still there and unfailing, even though we are not.

Jeremy Huggins, You Are My Hero

Last week I had two days where I did not fly. In fact, my name was not to be found anywhere on the schedule. Now, it is not that I do not appreciate a day off, I love them! But I enjoy just one, not multiple. Just before Electra kicked me out of the house and told me to stop bugging her she came up with one of her customarily brilliant ideas; "You need to find a time consuming hobby."

Now, it is not like I do not already have hobbies. I can never get my hands on enough books, I run, I have used my spare time to this point tilling up every available bit of space in our postage stamp yard in order to plant things, and whenever I am home I am involved in our Church and community Bible study.

What else can I do? I do NEED to learn how to play an instrument, I also need to work on other languages. I enjoy good art and good music. I love beer. "No," she said. You need to find something that takes out some more energy. I am convinced that Electra thinks I have A.D.D.

But then I ran across Jeremy Huggins' current project. Wow. Talk about inspiration. Now if I only had some creative ability..... But no matter...I now know what I am doing in my spare time.

ferial vs. festal eating

Have you read The Supper of the Lamb? You haven't tasted or eaten a book this good.

hot summertime

It's another great sunny day in south Texas, with partial cloud cover and possibility of late afternoon thunderstorms. Meanwhile, Herbie is politely anxious to play and we both need a workout. Kermit flies this afternoon, after a leisurely morning of running and sunning himself at the pool. Finally, dinner must be made and Herbie walked into the sunset, with his parents enjoying adult beverages before bed.

Whoever Thought...

...It could ever feel cool in South Texas? Well, it sure does. Especially when compared with upper end triple digits in the desert!
And while the atmosphere outide felt relatively cool, the reception inside the house was anything but. Herbie the Dog actually remembered who I was. Electra, not to be outdone, lavished gifts upon me, and our garden even sprouted into a mini tropical forest!
I am quite proud of Electra's sergeant like capabilities of keeping order, not only here at home, but also at school...She is a good Marine!

It was morning and evening...

the First Week. I survived the first 6 days of summer ESL school. I went beyond survival to super girl. I found out I could mop a floor at 5:30 am, bathe the dog at 6 and be ready to leave the house by 7:15. I can go all day teaching 4 hours of reading to highschoolers with shaky language skills, staff meetings, wash a load of clothes upon arriving home while fixing an early dinner for 5 couples, host a Bible study, finish with a clean kitchen while spending quality time with friend and walk the dog 2 miles before bed. All in one day.

The skill of multipacking a day's agenda is old hat to old moms and the genius skill of young professionals. But I am neither professional nor a mom. I've learned some new ways of living and wonder about it.

If you've read Falling (Colin Thubron), do you find yourself thinking like Clara--"as if thought, like everything else, must be applied with a serene and exclusive concentration....I imagined...,Clara the Swallow could not perform her act this week, due to thought. It is hoped, however, by next week..."

swimming lessons

Herbie swam the Frio River last weekend. He found that jumping off inner tubes causes one to fall underwater, like Sam Gamgee on the movie, when you see his face go under, eyes open, unable to stop his descent into the miry deeps. Meanwhile, Kermit and I threw the frisbee until our toes turned to white prunes and long enough for giggly, screamy high-school girls to join in and leave again. And in the morning, humming birds attacked each other at the red feeder as I watched from the porch swing. We basked in the dry air of the hill country for two days before leaving for the steamy bayside of Rockport where we completed our 4th of July tour with a brisket dinner at Uncle Elmer and Aunt Janine's ranch house. Sadly, I saw no fireworks that night.

All in Pink

Pink nail polish. It makes one feel like street-kid Eliza Doolittle become Flower shop girl. Everything one touches becomes a matter of vast importance and yet hilarity-bound at the same time. They say that pink rooms calm even the worst crazy criminals.

Did you know there is a witches' school in Illinois, inspired by Hogwarts? It's one of not a few. http://abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=2136578&page=1

Supposedly scary

A dentist is reputed to be the last doctor you want to visit, because he always finds something wrong with you. Who really wants a deceptively smiley guy revealing the rotting bed of a life-threatening cavity that will cost half a car loan to pay off? It's like finding yourself the foolish son in Proverbs meeting the adulterous woman in your own back yard, and you don't remember inviting her in--but there she is and something must be done about her or you or you'll both go down together in the rotten cavitated heap of a former tooth.

Well, my new dentist today was an excellent sort of man. Born and raised in a family of Marines, he runs a tight ship of friendly hygenists with great tooth-veneer jobs that brighten his office with their smile. It's an humble office, with tiny operating rooms. The Dr. himself is on par with an elderly war vet, as he dons night-vision looking goggles and a lazer beam to detect cavities. My teeth are by inheiritance immaculate, yet weak in the rear joints; for I left with the need to return for a refill of an old childhood cavity. Would that the sins of our youth were as gone as forgotten in the old past!

translucence

We talk about the word, like being a translucent friend or Christian, as being a good thing.

Have you seen the sun light up a thing recently, rendering it see-through? Consider yellow daisies on the roadside. Waves of green grain, their skinny heads spiky with a kind of antennae glowing in evening rays. Mesquite tree leaves in late morning sun, seen from beneath the low branches, as from a hammock. The water of the sea on a clear day, your toes yet visible as you walk in deeper.

"Where There is No Vision, Evil Flourishes" Winston Churchill

The PCA General Assembly was this past week, and though I have not had a chance to talk to our pastor in length about the details, I understand that some good things were discussed. I am thankful that the PCA as a denomination strives to be accountable to God and God alone. With the latest media hubbub surrounding the Episcopal and PCUSA denominations it is a small comfort to know that our Presbyteries are still seeking to "Soli Deo Gloria" vice "Soli Homo Gloria." This is no small feat, and is certainly only by the Grace of God.

This morning in during Sunday School we had the opportunity to pray in small groups. One of the ladies in the small groups I was in was expressing how thankful to the Lord she was that the PCA, our local Presbytery, and our Church community had remained faithful to Scripture and did not bend to the trends of the world. I was struck by this supplication because it reminded me that we do need to pray for the Church. Not just as I do, that the Church fulfill her commission, but that the leaders in our Church communities remain true.

In our fallen condition it is so easy to fall away from True teaching and focus on the wrong things. When coherent vision is lost, opportunities are squandered and ground is lost. This fact has been proven time and time again in government, warfare, families, and even the Church. I am thankful that for the time being Electra and I are able to worship with a community that strives to teach Truth, and I pray that our Church leaders will remain true to their vision. For I have seen what a lack of vision and leadership can do to a Church and her flock...it is not pretty.

workaday weekend

O-Navs are not nice. The guys have been plugging away at these flight plan books that cause illimitably more pain than pleasure. And the pain will not end with the work week. Maybe we are spoiled most of the time, with a whole Saturday off, to run around hands-in-the-air and play, followed by Sunday with it's worshipful responsibilities; but then we take our recreation seriously. Work, worship, play, all equally important, all carefully accounted for and alloted time space, with little room for infringement of one upon the other each week. What's to account for such an attitude of seriosity?

Herbie has a dream

As he lies passed out in deep, still, sleep beneath my chair, Herbie begins high pitched whuffing. I watch the story unfold as his eyebrows quake, his nose twitches uncontrollably, and his body faintly trembles with the inner storm blowing through his mind. When the tumult of squeaky barks ceases, I see the head clouds clearing and he is free to sleep peacefully as under sunny skies.

drive by P&P

We watched it. The new and fast Pride and Prejudice. Mr. Darcy is a sallow old bean, but he warms up in the end--as expected. Elizabeth is all twinkling eyes and smart laughter.

The more interesting character brought to attention in this movie is that of Mr. Bennet. He is spotted showing 3 moments of understanding and kindness never before portrayed. He comforts the shamed Mary at the Bingley ball; through their bedroom window we catch a glimpse of Mr and Mrs Bennet enagaged in genial bedtime talk about Jane's impending marriage; finally, when interviewing Elizabeth about Mr Darcy's bid for her hand, he giggles in a childlike, mirror image of his own daughter showing us his real delight in her happiness.

I'll Bet You Can't Guess Who Is Who...

sunset time

The air grows blue-dusky and the wind puffs and blows between the houses in their muddled array inside the gates of the stone walls surrounding the little neighbourhood. Being summer, and out of school, children spend long hours outdoors into the night. Herbie doesn't like the noise of children, big or small. The small ones squeak in high pitched voices and the big ones bellow at one another. Then there's the basketball pounding. Afternoon games are like sitting in the pit of a pistol range shooting match, as rated on the Herbometer.

We'll go for a walk anyway, around the block, with him pulling himself horse and me watching the sky over the base airfield a few miles away. There the other he who is steward of this house, is flying tonight.

No Place Like A Familiar Book...

I picked up Buchan's Greenmantle again today for the first time since High School...Long time ago... I have rambled through a number of Buchan's works over the years but in the back of my mind always longed for the adventure of Greenmantle again. So, I did what any book junky would do when longing for a good book. I stole it from my sister.

Greenmantle interests me on a number of different levels. I am a big fan of Buchan's writing style and his dry, English humor. It is the kind of humor that I fancy I have; and if I do not have it yet, I hope to by the time I am a middle aged, pipe smoking chap. I enjoy the main characters: I have empathy for their plot, and have found that Buchan nails the emotions and tremblings on the button.

However, what has struck me on this time around is the relevance to current events. The book is set during the first world war with the plot being developed around the "matchbox" of the Middle East and the ensuing possibility of "Jehad", as Mr. Blenkiron would say. Mr. Buchan sets the tense tone of the book with the following: "Isam is a fighting creed, and the mullah still stands in the pulpit with the Koran in one hand and a drawn sword in another. Supposing there is some Ark of the Covenant which will madden even the remotest Moslem peasant with dreams of paradise? What then my friend? Then there will be hell let loose in those parts pretty soon...Hell, which may spread..." My, how History repeats itself and how correct Mr. Buchan was.

Curried Pumpkin Soup

The Orginal Gourmet Version:
2 med. onions, finely chopped
2 T. butter
2 lg. garlic cloves, minced
1-1/2 T. ginger, peeled and minced
2 t. gound cumin
1 t. ground coriander
1/8 t. ground cardamon
1-1/2 t. salt
3/4 t. dried hot pepper flakes
2-15 oz. ( 3-1/2 c.)cans pumpkin (not pie filling)
7 c. water
1-1/2 c. chicken broth (12 fl. oz.)
1-14oz. can unsweetened coconut milk
1/4 c. olive oil
2 t. brown mustard seeds
8 fresh curry leaves
~Need 6-qt. heavy pot & a smaller, heavy pot.
~Cook onions in large pot over med. heat until soft, 3-5 min. Add garlic and ginger, cook 1 min. Add cumin, coriander, cardamon, cook 1 min. Stir in salt, red pepper, pumpkin, water, broth, coconut milk, simmer 30 min. uncovered.
~Puree soup in batches until smooth, return to pot. Keep warm over low heat.
~Heat oil in small, heavy skillet, mod-high heat, heat but not to smoking, and cook mustard seeds until they pop, 15 seconds! Add curry leaves, 5 seconds, and pour all into pumpkin soup.
~Stir; season with salt. May be thinned with water. May be made a day ahead and chilled.


The Today's Pantry Version:
1 large onion, diced
1 T. butter
5 med. garlic cloves, diced
3/4 t. gound ginger
3/4 t. ground cumin
1/2 t. coriander seeds
1/2 t. cardamon
1-1/2 t. salt
1/4 t. cayenne pepper
1/4 t. ground nutmeg
1 t. ground red curry
2-15 oz. cans pumpkin
3 c. water
1-14 oz. can condensed milk
3 T. olive oil
1 t. brown mustard (prepared squeezable)
2 T. honey
~Large pot.
Saute onions and garlic in large pot with butter, 3 minutes. Pour all the liquid ingredients into pot. Add spices. Stir vigourously and with caution. Simmer covered over very low heat 0.75-1 hour. Let sit until husband arrives home. Serve warmed with spiced cornbread muffins or soft sourdough bread and white wine or green tea.

"What's for dinner?"

"Look on the ceiling--and taste a sample from the counter backsplash," I might as well add. The blender and I did not get on well this evening. I desired smoothly pureed pumpkin curry soup. Nice blender wanted to heave and regurgitate hot soup back out it's lid. So maybe it was too hot. Blenders are supposed to devour and reduce to fine pulp any object one aims to glide smoothly over the palate with titilating silkiness.

Once again, my newly mopped kitchen floor received its fair share of dinner's delightful ingredients tonight.

Home again, yes, once more

I enjoy frequent homecomings. It means you've been away, uprooted from your safe and sound routine and into someone else's environment, where ideas other than your own rule the roost and those others' opinions direct events. It's good to have a place to come back to, where you're known and loved by people whom you never knew before you moved away from your first homeland.

Top Ten Reasons You Know You Are Running In South Texas

10. The mosquitoes fly as fast as you run.

9. The official rules for a local 5k state that "mosquitoes picking you up, sucking you dry, and then depositing you beyond the finishing line will not result in an official time."

8. You have to wear an oxygen mask- even though you are not under water the relative humidity levels would lead you to believe you were.

7. Illegal immigrants think that you are chasing them.

6. You send your most recent 10k times to a race in a more hospitable climate and they place you in the geriatric division.

5. The wind constantly blows 40 mph-either in your face or at your back-one way you have to lean forward to move, the other way you suffocate.

4. County police stop to check on you.

3. The local division of Border Patrol agents ask you to keep an eye on sector 7 and give you a radio. (see reason #7)

2. The locals look at you like you are on idiot.

1. You just finished your last run in record time...because you were being chased by a Havelina.

A Breath of Fresh Air

I have finally reconciled my tendency toward nostalgia. I had mistaken it for misplaced feelings or at least thoughts that were not worth the time thinking. C. S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity, "If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most propable explanation is that I was made for another world." How true. And how settling.

I also firmly would argue that the same sentiment can be expressed when it comes to home. Home is where we are created to be; it is where we grow, learn, love, and live. It is where we find rest and restoration, and it where the courage is mustered to venture out into worlds unknown.

Having had the opportunity to venture home again for the first time in a very long time it is no small comfort to know that I can indeed long for home. It is not only ok, but what we are created to do.

Hail came to So. Texas

The sky is falling, in small white chunks. We stood on the porch and watched the whole storm. Herbie sustained many imaginary concussions when he wandered out in the yard alone.

the sound of four paws, clapping silently

The revelation of Herbie the Dog. Applause, please.

partners in party

This was NewYear's at midnight.

a little sidewise

With my new, bad skills at posting photos, I introduce Kermit to you!

to quote a master mind

I've just begun a walk with Paul Johnson through his book Modern Times, which conversative stroll should take us quite until Christmas. My ears are perpetually flabby yet thin, like an elephant's; I can listen to Mr Johnson for nine paragraphs at a stretch, then we find the shade to sit and rest the inner drums.

At the poolside today, I heard him say something brilliant (as a tiny diamond of sun-sparkle that dropt in my hand from an overhanging palm leaf): "It is a commonplace that men are excessively ruthless and cruel not as a rule out of avowed malice but from outraged righteousness" (14). He is speaking of European nations going to war in WWI, but it applies equally to all men of any time; Tim Keller says all religion leads to war, we seek to force our righteous agenda on another person, and we war with God ultimately, to show him what a good thing we are for him; our Sunday School teacher says that we must repent not only of sin but of our good deeds.

Pen names

Have you got one? They are most diverting. In some worlds, one's life as an author may depend upon it, considering George Eliot and the sisters Bell.

Graduation days

Thursday, 18 May. The time has come to say goodby. All the seniors of Pan Am are running about the main hall, tossing yellow tasselled ropes to one another, family members trail in from far away Mexico cities, toppers on vans to stay the night. It's a messy melee of hyperactive waiting.

it's cool at 95

After a great and tumultuous storm that brought hail and rain to south Texas, particularly Kingsville, we've enjoyed a week of "very fine weather:" low humidity and light breezes. The cattle are happy and the children can play without consuming dust. Herbie is happiest, who hates to get his paws wet in early dew, while his ears nearly fly off their hinges in the normal gale of wind.

e.g. of gender inequality

Here's an article that gives an example of what the church is dealing with when it comes to "equality" between men and women (thanks, Liz, for the link!) http://michaelfbird.blogspot.com/2006/04/together-for-gospel-not-quite.html

My new favourite site

Based on our last reading project, I have been researching Biblical equality and complementarianism and found the CBE website to be very helpful with lots of articles on both sides of the issue. While monitoring tests, while keeping one eye on my computer room class, while in a coffee shop on the weekends, I read these articles, taking copious notes, all of which will go in some notebook on my shelf, like a sword stowed for later battle. My latest discovery today is the CBE blogsite:http://blog.cbeinternational.org/

do you know about Yew?

http://www.geocities.com/ancientyew2003/

The Never Ending Story

I grew up believing that once you became a Christian the world took on a rosy hew. I thought I understood that the sun shone brighter, you smiled more, and that the common ailments of our culture could no longer get us down. How wrong I was.

Common Biblical teaching suggests that if we just "act" more Christian, do what Jesus did, and abide by the Golden Rule all will be well with us. How wrong I have found that to be.

God has taken me to a place in my life where all is broken. Nothing makes sense, my life is out of my own control, and no amount of smiling or relying upon the religiousness of my Christianity is going to make me feel better. In fact, I am realizing that once God calls us unto His own the only marked change is within us...not external to us. The external comes after years of sanctification and after He has called us to be home with Him.

One might argue that there is no God; if I accepted Him and experienced no outward change, how real can He be. Well, there is no denying the change that occured within me. Additionally, there is no denying the groanings, the desires, the yearnings of my heart as it changes and grows in to the heart it was created to be.

The very hard part is getting past myself. Allowing the change to take place in my heart. How can I possibly allow my heart and spirit to soften when I am required to operate in an environment that requires me to harden my heart. The answer of course lies in the fact that it is the God of creation that is softening my heart. If He is indeed God of creation, does that not also make him God over the environment that requires me to harden my heart. Of course it does, and therein is the hope.

I understand that the process is a long one. My prayer is that I can hold fast to the Word, study it, work through it, and as I do so, let it work in me.

Format Problems

Well, I was able to change the background of our blog, but I can not figure out how to put our profile and links section back up at the top. If anybody out there knows how, please share. Until then, in order to link to other blogs, you have to scroll to the bottom.

so have you read...

Girl Meets God? It's a personal story written by Lauren Winner who went to Old Miss. Some of you might personally know her. I took the book with me into the base police station yesterday to get a new I.D., and the lady behind the counter asked incredulously, "So, did she meet Him?"

what babies like

According to this report, diets of infants around the world are a cornucopia of goodness, except for the Danes, Swedes and Israelis. They refuse to use greens and eat too much ice cream and white pastry! Born with a fetish for ketchup, I must have been imported from Sweden. http://lifestyle.msn.com/FamilyandParenting/RaisingKids/ArticleBHG.aspx?cp-documentid=436024&GT1=8175

Boycott-Take Two

Kelly and I had a good discussion about the half hearted, disinterested march that took place at the small boarding school she teaches at. A disruption it certainly was, as most of the children walked back in to class before half the period was out. When Kelly asked why they were back in so soon; their reply was, "it is hot out Miss." Poor Kids.

The fact is, a majority of these high schoolers are here because they can not get a decent education in the socialistic country they call home. They have no desire to stay here, no desire to become United States citizens, all they want is to get back home to Mexico City. "It is too hot up here!" They constantly whine.

Kel and I also had the opportunity to discuss the mis-interpreted truth in this mess. There is no problem with Immigrants. Here in the United States, unless you are a Native American Indian, you are in fact the descendent of an immigrant. The point is legality. The laughable point is that illegals have no rights, except the rights to be deported or jailed.

And so Kel left to go back for her afternoon classes with my suggestion to encourage the kids to stand up for what they believed. However, I also encouraged her to inform them that they better understand what they are standing up for and be able to pay the piper when it came to failing their afternoon assignments, quizzes, and tests.

boycott

We need to have them more often. The immigrant day of May 1st causes ripples of discontent in even the smallest of towns. My little boarding school got caught in the disruption, with students half-heartedly wandering about the grounds in a slow march, a few teachers out and being substituted, and those attempting to teach keeping order in the midst of the external chaos. It is good to be provoked to stand for something true, but who knows what the truth of the matter is anymore?

Home again

He's back and he's fiesty. Herbie reveals short term memory loss, running away from his own master-dad. I had fractional adjustment syndrome: you get to re-know a person one piece at a time, like a slow computer that warms up in chunks of information retrieval. We're all headed to Rockport for the weekend, which means grandparents and other rauctious family, beach and Java Bay Cafe.

this one's for you

Rachel, really. http://librarianguish.blogdrive.com/

up against the fence line

Boundaries: do you know when to say "Yes" and when to say "No"? Do you know how to take control of YOUR life? Maybe, maybe not. What exactly does he mean by control? Where's the love?

I'm learning.

little darlin

The truck gets her outing today. Even without a current registration. Even without a bath. Great new idea comes to me: the newspapers will all fit perfectly in her bed. Responsibility deferred.

Reduce -Reuse -Recycle

Jack Johnson sings for us to sing along and learn how it is we should act in a global community. I love recyling. The whole process is about organization of junk, like catagorizing the weeds in one's garden, lining them up for execution. When I have a garden, I compost the weeds. When I reside near a recycling center, I recycle my trash.

A great whale of a box is beached upon our back porch. I can't lift it; Eric's not here; the box is falling apart anyway. It must be repackaged to be stowed in the car. The street dumpster is only a few steps away from our backdoor--and a wicked thought crossed my mind this afternoon: who would ever know if I simply loaded all those thousands of half-read Caller Times pages into the garbage bin? What exactly would be wasted? I would be reducing (the trash heap on my porch and in my laundry closet). One principle out of three would have been fulfilled. But Eric would have saved them all for nothing. And that I cannot let go to waste.

Herbie has a flea

It and many flea brothers set up a colony upon Herb's back, thinking they discovered a New World. Immergency baths were inflicted upon Herblets. Fleas died in the flood. Yet a Noadic family survived. Frontline liquid Marines were called upon and dispersed throughout the hills and valleys of Herbiville. Eagerly, we await the dawn, when Frontline shall have its effect and the carnage of flea carcases lie unburied on the desert of Herb's tummy.

It's a boy!

Gilbert Kirk McClelland was born this morning to Kristin and Alan at 11:18 CST, weighing 7lb plus some ounces. Grandmamma Linda was there for his birth in Jackson, Mississippi. Great delivery reported and all is well.

'Summer living is about comfort--and romance'

My romantic half is in El Centro, aspiring to fly patterns over the desert ground there. He's much better at hard work than me; he breathes jet fuel for breakfast and dines on jet logs for dinner. When it comes to siesta space, I take over to recreate the perfect playground for the weary--which may be mere rearrangement of furniture. Creativity, like muscles, must be excercised before enjoyed.

what we do with ourselves

I study Pottery Barn catalogues and avoid the newspaper. I claim no news snobbery, but seek a maximum pleasure for time spent in publicised pages, and PB offers an inspiration that borders on lust--for bedsheets and bath towels. Who could resist a company that offers subtle advice along with the product to produce an ultimately satisfying sleeping experience?

My scarred lamp perched on a little WalMart self-assemble bookshelf reminds me that I need to get black polish to cover the scrape, OR I could read my new Boundaries, OR I could calligraph the cards due to a bonnie friend, OR I could make some brownies for dinner with the girls tonight, OR I could be electrocuted. It seems wise to start with the brownies and work backwards.

John Baillie

His most popular work of writing is A Diary of Private Prayer, but he was known in his native Scotland as a professor in Edinburgh and Toronto, and moderator of the General Assembly of Church of Scotland in 1943. His Diary contains morning and evening prayers beautifully composed as if hymns of creation, echoing, "and it evening and it was morning, the first day." In his prayers, like Psalms, I find words to name the unruly feelings of my own heart and turn them out in the round pen for roping and branding.

business days

We rise up, work, eat again, lie down to sleep. The work of the day may have little to do with what we'd rather be devoted to--and what after all have we made our little gods today? Discipline and devotion are much talked about, incredibly well done sometimes, and when we sit down to consider our accomplishments, we more often berate ourselves for a job left half done than to take pleasure in the wonder of what meagre progress we realised. Because of the work of God in creation, it is Christlike to begin and finish a thing and be able to declare "it is good." We crave a sense of accomplishment, but for good to actually be done, we must find ourselves in Christ a clean conscience, worthy of praise, because he accomplished a great good work in us.
http://www.apu.edu/facultywritings/ssumner/20040615/

whimsical Canadian artist

http://itsawhimsicallife.blogspot.com/

Episcopal children's affairs

An inside view of an urban church working with children:http://sundaypaperblog.blogspot.com/

In looking for Lisbeth Zwerger's artwork, I've found some nice childrens' book artists and blogsites to share......http://community.livejournal.com/storybookland/

On Immigration

There is no denying that Immigration is a very important topic to discuss, and we must ensure that we are doing so in a logical manner. I am not going to waste time and space to expound on the issue because Thomas Sowell has done a fantastic job in his latest column. However, I can not help but add a point to the argument with some good old fashioned sarcasm. After reading of how "thousands" of high school students are protesting for immigrant rights I can easily say that even if I had no idea or vested interest in this issue, if "thousands" of high school students are for it...I am against it.

Anxiousness

1Pet 5:7- ...Casting all your anxieties upon Him because He cares for you...

Is 35:4 - Say to all those who have an anxious heart, Be strong; fear not! Behold your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God. he will come and save you.

Phil 4:6-7 - Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

on a boisterously cloudy day

I checked out of the antique library on base, To Kill a Mockingbird. How I missed this book in high school must be in part due to a homeschooled scheducation. How I have missed the musty pleasure of the NAS base library is a consequence of my fear and terror of the prison-like building; and the suspiciously shy Woman Behind the Desk keeps her own hours, despite the official posted ones, invoking laziness on my part to never stop by and brave the rusty-handled door.

Half way into the first few chapters, I thought Scout was a boy. I hope Dill comes back every summer. He reminds me of the albino boy in Susan Cooper's Drawing of the Dark series.

sigh and sight

I've been reading the collected works of Emily Bronte. Her words speak as windy days that buffet the unspoken out of our soul. How many of us little girls hide behind a smile and curtained eye, only to find solace in a lump pillow in the night~

She dried her tears and they did smile
To see her cheeks' returning glow
How little dreaming all the while
That full heart throbbed to overflow

With that sweet look and lively tone
And bright eye shining all the day
They could not guess at midnight lone
How she would weep the time away


what I see in winter-times:
Still as she looked the iron clouds
Would part and sunlight shone between
But drearily strange and pale and cold

Do you know, one summer full moon, it comes upon you...
I know not how it falls on me
This summer evening, hushed and lone
Yet the faint wind comes soothingly
With something of an olden tone

Forgive me if I've shunned so long
Your gentle greeting earth and air
But sorrow withers even the strong
And who can fight against despair

spring greens

Every year, I watch for the budding of the new leaves on the trees, and every year, I write somewhere something about the glory and joy of their catch-breath beauty. If Christmas marks the deep furrows of the honourable old things, the venerable traditions of faithful man on Time's winding road, then Easter heralds the delightfully new, the diamond light of translucent radiant mercy sparkling from every tree top as the spring time rushing winds pour through supple young branches. I find that here in south Texas, even the scruby, knarled and bent old grey mesquite trees are clothed in delicate, lacy greenery that flies up in the wind like little girl dresses on a Sunday morning.

Living the Life

As I have grown older (matured one might say...) I have learned that it is not the one who argues the loudest, puts on the best show, or berates his opponent in the most efficient manner is not the one who ultimately ushers in a change of the heart. In order to effect change we have to enter into the lives of those we hope to persuade and dare I say love them...through the long run. Dr. Tim Keller says: "You need to enter into a person's worldview, challenge that worldview and retell the story based upon the Gospel." Hardly revolutionary...No, now is the time to think reformationally.

breaking and remaking

In one of his sermons on greed and giving, Tim Keller says that "Culture is a world with meaning;" even our everyday pennies go for or against something. He says that we can use our money in two major ways: as a distraction by purchasing sensation stimulation OR as seed to plant and grow exciting liveliness, for our friends, our family, our neighbour, ourselves. Lest we think it is our dollar bills that fund and run the universe, we must learn the reality that, in Keller's words, "God's righteousness re-weaves creation."

Eric and I inevitably find ourselves spending more than we should on food we didn't need, wasting money on fees and penalties, investing where we didn't have back up plans, and in trying to be prudent, robbing ourselves or someone else of the happy luxuries we call necessities of life. Where the balance of giving and saving lies, no one knows until the money's on the line and a decision must be made. We learn meanwhile to say the honoured prayer, "give us this day our daily bread," hoping in God's righteousness for tomorrow by praising His provision today.

Valentine's Day

Two years ago today Eric picked me up to walk across the street to the coffee house, 49 West, in Annapolis. He had just flown in from Virgina. A waltz party was going on at St. John's that gave him reason to come back early and ask me to the dance, since we'd been taking swing lessons on Tuesday nights in the little back stage room on St. J's campus. I suppose we wouldn't have gone to the dance if my answer had been different that night.

After all, the new semester marked the turn of the year in which we had barely begun to be simply friends. We got back from Christmas break wanting to renew an old aquaintance, go out to a movie in the greyness of winter, and found out that we already frequented Barnes and Noble to study, and it would be lovely to get our mutual friends over there at the same time. Meanwhile, we're both thinking of other possibilities; but one can hardly be expected to say yes to a man after two dinner conversations and a few stolen side long glances at him over oceanographic equations.

I found myself faced with his question over a small cup of strong coffee, warming my fingers, while the rest of the drafty ailse was cold. His words were diplomatic ambassadors from his heart to my head. I felt necessity impelled me to explain a few things; I didn't think he could really be serious if he really knew me; and here was a man not to be messed with. His reply encompassed my fears round about and drew them into a kerchief as on a stick to be carried on his back and taken up together at a right time some time down the road. The undertaking he proposed, to gain my affection through the proving of his own for me, seemed unlikely, but desireable. Thus, his words met their mark and mine echoed, yes, I'd like that, too.

Religion

I am a religious person...but so is Ted Kennedy...so what differentiates us? In the newspapers, on the TV, and in conversation it seems that religious people are only Christians; and they seem intent upon forcing their religion upon the rest of an unsuspecting populous.

Websters defines religion as a "particular faith system and worship." And so, yes, I as a Christian am Religious. My life is spent in worship to the Creator of the Universe. However, since the humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinists feel that Christians are the only folks who are religious and are also the only folks who wish to impose their religion upon others, we need to take a moment here and call a spade a spade. The humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinist is just as religious as I and he is bent upon forcing his religion upon me. In fact, he is so zealous about forcing it upon me that he even does it with my own tax money in the Public School system, through legislation, and through political action.

The difference exists in Truth. The reason that the humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinists are working so hard to suppress the Christian Religion is that it alone stands as Truth. No other belief system requires so little of a person, and yet so much, to recieve salvation. As in other religions where salvation is dependent upon the work of the individual, Christianity calls for the individual to submit, admit they have sinned, and ask for forgiveness. Such submission is not acceptable in our culture. It is within Christianity that the humanists fear, for in Christianity life is sacred, things of this world do not matter, Truth exists, boundaries are present, Grace and Mercy abound, and death has been conquered. If I were a humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinist and relying upon my own goodness to achieve Nirvana, I would want Christians to shut up as well.

down by the Frio

On Martin Luther King Jr's birthday, we celebrated on the Frio River, first running long distances of road winding through the Hill Country, eating large amounts of panckaes, and finally getting down to the river, where Aunt Paula suggested we launch one of their kayaks to test Herbie's sea legs. Eric took him out first, then I followed up with my first ride in the slender water craft. Even with cool, cloudy skies, the paddling is great fun, and now we have to find sea kayaks to take out on the Bay!

I'm in the club

Last night was my first time attendance of the Officer Spouse Club meeting of Eric's flight training squadron. It was a perfect time to join the large group of women, in an evening of wine tasting; where one would normally be shy and self conscious (of the shirt one changed three times before showing up), the wild animal feelings of self strangulation in the midst of a crowd of new faces are calmed with the sweet Resling or a more heavily grounding Merlot. Next time it'll be waffle baking.

glaciers in his heart are melting

If you've never seen Ice Age, now's the time, and you will see the essense of doggie animalistic terror written upon the face of Scrat, the prehistoric squirrel. Scrat is the screen-living representation of human frustration. Both Herbie and his new dad are experts in the expression of this wide-mouthed Scrat-scream, since both their lives are filled with little daily frustrations.

Tonight was the night that Herbie crossed the line of Scratty new house pet to playfellow: he's already chasing, leaping and catching bones midair, reducing the king and queen of the house to floor-roiling packmates.

the Secret Life of Herbie

At heart, he's a mild mannered, pleasant sort of little man, who asks only for his slippers at bedtime and a biscuit to top off his tank.
However, the trying transition between households has altered his life clock and upset his worldview. His former playpen of the great outdoors is now a threatening Hazardous Front Line upon which he must keep on red alert, translated to: tail between the legs and run to mommy (who's on the other end of the leash).
To help him overcome outdoor people and Other Dog terrors, he gets carried one-way on walks and then let down again to race his way back home.
It is, after all, a useful thing to know the way home when caught out in the wild world.

We've got him

Herbie came home with us yesterday! He's a wild boar coloured, four month old Wirehaired Dachshund. To see pictures of the breed, go to raydachs.com and you can see his mom ("Goose").