the back burner

I guess it had to happen sometime...

The people at my new pool were very helpful today. They showed me how to slide my card so that the doors would open. They showed me how to get a bracelet for a changing cabine (think: closet), and what to do when you get out of the pool.

But the piece de la resistance was when the bracelet-guard stopped me en route from the cabine to the pool. "What are you wearing?!" (Um, excuse me? This is a swim suit.) "You can't wear that. No way. I guess you didn't see the sign? Only bathing suits that look like underwear, please."

Oh dear. Welcome to Europe.

You'll all be very proud of me. After an initial "pleasetellmehedidn'tjustsaythat" moment, I didn't miss a beat. I just carried on bravely, asking whether they sold those at the front desk and how much they would be. (Let's just say in terms of price per fabric, this is the most expensive piece of cloth I've ever purchased.)

Feeling like I had made all the mistakes it was possible to make up until that point, I wasn't surprised at all when the whole pool started yelling at me after my second lap. Apparently you aren't allowed to swim without a swim cap. The lifeguard lent me his. I can't tell whether or not it helped having horrible vision. On the one hand, I felt completely lost without my glasses the whole time. On the other, at least I couldn't tell if anyone was staring at me unless they were within two meters of my face.

By the way, I know what you're all thinking. And the answer is no, you're not getting a photo on this one. Scarves, yes. Tiny bathing suits, definitely not.

i was feeling sick today, but THEN...

So. That's all for now. Just thought I'd share.

Having friends, keeping the neck warm, and getting better,

ME

rots and nannies

Yup. Potatoes are still the cheapest, filling-est item on my shopping list. In the States, they were tied with rice for that spot. Not anymore. Plus, a local wouldn't be caught dead eating rice if he know taters were in the offing. The whole population is in love with potatoes.

Problem is, they're not particularly nutritious. For cheap nutrition in a country where green things don't really grow that easily, I turn to the humble onion and the unpretentious carrot. They do their best when my budget won't support kale and spinach. They don't complain when I match them with plain old pasta in red sauce, or even, come to think of it, potatoes. They stand in quite solidly with any sort of meat, always with a proletarian look about them, as if to say, "we're only here to serve."

Garlic really perks them up. Not to mention butter. Herbs are nice, if you can get your hands on some of them, but let's not go putting on airs.

Anyroad, here's what I'm eating for dinner. I find I'm quite proud of food produced here after all the work it took to get my utilities online.

Winter's End

Once in a wood at winter's end,
The withered sun, becoming young,
Turned the white silence into sound:
Bird after bird rose up in song.
The skeletons of snow-blocked trees
Linked thinning shadows here and there,
And those made mummy by the freeze
Spangled their mirrors on cold air.
Whether they moved — perhaps they spun,
Caught in a new but known delight —
Was hard to tell, since shade and sun
Mingled to hear the birds recite.
No body of this sound I saw,
So glassed and shining was the world
That swung on a sun-and-ice seesaw
And fought to have its leaves unfurled.
Hanging its harvest in between
Two worlds, one lost, one yet to come,
The wood's remoteness, like a drum,
Beat the oncoming season in.
Then every snow bird on white wings
Became its tropic counterpart,
And, in a renaissance of rings,
I saw the heart of summer start.

"Winter's End" by Howard Moss, from New Selected Poems. © Atheneum.

Not one of mine, in other words. Heard it on the Writer's Almanac.

out my back window

a page from Milne

They say it may snow tomorrow, they say.
Tomorrow, they say, it may snow.
And whether or not
they're right about that,
I really can't claim to know.

It sure was wet on Saturday last,
o, but they said it would be fair!
And Tim with a cane
had to run in the rain
(on account he'd taken my dare).

They can't stand fog: it gives them a chill,
and chills, they say, bring on flu.
When the weather is wet
then they all place bets
on how our heater will do.

But summer days when the weather is fine
the humidity swells their feet.
So they fan and talk
and don't take me on walks
because they can't stand the heat!

They say it may snow tomorrow, they say.
Tomorrow, they say, it may snow.
But whether or not
they're right about that,
I really can't claim to know.

these days

"God is the source of true compassion... We don't comfort [people] by saying that things will work out. They may not. The people around them may change, but they may not. The Bible tells us again and again that everything around us is in the process of being taken away. God and his love are all that remain as cultures and kingdoms rise and fall. Comfort is found by sinking our roots into the unseen reality of God's ever-faithful love.

"But Paul is saying even more [in 2 Corinthians 1:3-11]. He says that there would be no such thing as compassion on earth if it were not for God. He is the source of all compassion. This point is important, because if God is the source of compassion, it makes no sense for his children to be uncaring. If we are members of his family and partakers of his divine nature, increasingly conformed to his image, we should be marked by our compassion. We should be more than theological answer machines. Because of our connection to the Father, we can bring comfort to a world where suffering is a constant reality. We should weep with those who weep and mourn with those who mourn, and so incarnate the One who is compassion.

"The comfort we have received from the Lord has ministry in view. God has chosen me not only to be the recipient of his grace but to convey his grace to others. I must not hoard the comfort I have received like some spiritual heirloom. I have been called to share what I have received. The comfort we share is not rooted in abstract theology, but in our experience of being comforted by the Lord in our own times of trouble. We want sufferers around us to experience what we have been given by the Lord.

"God wants us to share in Christ's suffering. The logic in 2 Corinthians is simple: You have been called to suffer so that you would experience God's comfort. You have experienced God's comfort so that you can comfort others. As they receive God's comfort through you, they can bring that comfort to others. Our usffering is not a gap in God's love, as if the Devil crept in while the Lord's head was turned. Peter says it this way: "Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed" (1 Peter 4:12-13). Suffering does not mean that God's plan has failed. It is the plan. Suffering is a sign that we are in the family of Christ and the army of the kingdom. We suffer because we carry his name. We suffer so that we may know him more deeply and appreciate his grace more fully. We suffer so that we may be part of the good he does in the lives of others.

"Even our suffering does not belong to us, but to the Lord. Perhaps it is easier to recognize that our blessings belong to the Lord than it is to recognize that he owns our suffering. If you watch someone suffer, you will see that we tend to treat suffering as something that belongs to us, something we can respond to as we please. We tend to turn in on ourselves. Our world shrinks to the size of our pain. We want little more than release, and we tend to be irritable and demanding.

"It does not take long to learn that suffering gives you power. As you cry in pain, people run to help you. They offer you physical comforts, say nice things, and release you from your duties. I once watched a little boy off his bike several houses away from home. He started to cry, but then he quickly stopped. He picked up his bike and walked in silence to his house. When he stepped on his porch, he began to wail in pain. Clearly, he had concluded that crying half a block away from home was a waste of tears. When his mother hit the porch, he tearfully told a story of a mishap that was much more dramatic than anything I had witnessed. He pointed to a minor wound and screamed as if in major pain. I thought to myself, This little guy is enjoying this moment!

"A whole host of self-absorbed temptations greet us when we treat suffering as something that belongs to us. This passage reminds us that our suffering belongs to the Lord. It is an instrument of his purpose in us and for others. The way we suffer must put Christ on center stage. The Redeemer owns our disappointment and fear. He owns our physical and spiritual pain. He owns those crushing past experiences. He owns our rejection and aloneness. He owns our dashed expectations and broken dreams. It all belongs to him for his purpose. When we feel like dying, he calls us to a greater death. He calls us to die to our suffering so that we may live for him.

"This is not a call to some creepy form of Christian stoicism. It is a call to bring the full range of our suffering to him. We are to weep loudly and mourn fully before him, knowing that true comfort can only be found at his feet. We are to place our mourning in his hands, to be used for his purposes in our lives and the lives of others. And it is a promise of comfort from the God who is the source of it all.

"The redemptive purpose in all of this is hope in a fallen world. God wants to raise up people filled with hope. True hope is not rooted in my achievements or assets, but in my knowledge that I am the child of the King. He loves me with a love that nothing can take away. He has given me his forgiving and empowering grace. He is daily changing and maturing me. He has promised to give me whatever I need to face what come my way. And he has promised that I will live with him forever in a place without suffering, sorrow, or sin. This means that in the most difficult moments of my life, nothing truly permanent or valuable is a stake. What I really live for is safe and secure. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I know that I am in the family of God, eternally loved and cared for by him. This is real hope."

Tripp, Paul David. Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands. P&R: Phillipsburg, NJ. 2002. pp.152-154.

we are only beginners, here.

hello blank page, hello black ink,
hello the faceless wonder of beginning.
i begin to think of chariots drawn by dragons.
(the safest and most frightening job
is to hold the reins.)

i begin to think of black trees felled by the wind.
they fall on cars legitimately parked,
unsuspecting citizens, and power lines.
who could have foreseen this?

i think (as i have thought before) about the woman wearing red,
who stood at the ends of the earth and laughed,
who looked directly at the sun,
whose robe was lit with fire.

men hold a secret evil in their breasts
and write their books as if in compensation.
they want to know if the great serpents fanned the trees,
and were they called by the virgin, do you know?
they ask, is this a good beginning?
and who can we blame?

quote of the day

"If you won't scold and dominate us,
We will never give you cause to hate us.
We won't hide your spectacles so you can't see,
Put toads in your bed or pepper in your tea.
Hurry, nanny. Many thanks.
Sincerely,
Jane and Michael Banks."

Saturday morning at the Nach's. Still in my pjs at quarter after 12. Julie Andrews manages a modern, no-nonsense British woman, but still reeks of feminine charm. Hmm. Ellen the maid is still my favorite.

m.b.l.

THREE HOURS, people. THREE HOURS.

work stuff

When we’re in the midst of confusing information scenarios (which is, like, ALL the time), whatever behavior pops out of us will reflect our values. If they’re our company's values, I think they’re going to be very consistent with a Biblical view of the local body of believers, of Christian brotherhood, and of conflict resolution. It’s important to take people back to that value-level of thinking/believing, since our value-behavior connections are VERY evident to our local partners and to our clients. All the times J and Bill N. have talked about “modeling the values,” and about “positioning ourselves for long-term relationship,” come back to me when I think about this.

Those values will also either make or break our virtual teams, it seems to me. (Virtual team = co-workers working together across physical distance, lots of long-distance communication.) They will either tie us together or divide us, prepare us for unified action or prepare us for chaos. There’s the variable of whether our values come from the same page, for one, and then there’s the variable of whether our values actually foster interdependence in their content. The BEST option, I think, would be for everyone in any given virtual team (a) to have the same values and (b) for those values to foster interdependence. That enables the team to communicate well and often (read: effectively).

Chop

Does the axe love the wood beneath? Perhaps
the orbit of that shining blade is fixed
by affections of an iron heart inside,
again again again the heave and grunt
and sudden slap of iron striking home,
in search of someone’s woody, hidden heart.
But wait. Perhaps the tool loves only to
perform? What then? Are we to disregard
the feelings of a simple lump of oak?
What if the axe seeks only to attract
a simple heart and leave it, split in two
and fit for only fire and smoke? What then?

(been writing a lot of poetry lately, all of it bad. this one was the only one i've been able to post – partly out of modesty and partly due to connection issues. and has anyone noticed that covblogs just started supporting a spell check feature? or was it the new version of firefox for mac? so far, i've, covblogs, and firefox are not words. fiddlesticks.)

graffiti #3

(the media deceive us.)

graffiti #2

graffiti #1

cake

before:

after:

(Unfortunately, the cake-baker accidentally decorated this birthday cake with confectioner's sugar and a home-made doilie. One of the best AND most spectacular candle blows I've ever given.)

new year's

we have come again
to the cold womb of the year.
we drift and eddy,
sweepings of an aimless wind
in a frozen ditch.