Very long answer to a simple question

Chichimama asked me how I happened to become a priest. Anyone who has gone through the process leading to ordination has had to answer variations of this question numerous times, but each time I am asked I find myself reflecting on it myself and reflecting on how to tell the story. Of course there is the short story and the long story, and I think I will tell the long one here, if you will bear with me, because the whole story makes more sense to me set in its context. But if you want the short version, just skip to the last couple of paragraphs.

I am one of an increasingly rare breed, a cradle Episcopalian. Some of my earliest memories involve being at church. I remember the church of my childhood as a comfortable place, a nurturing place, even as a fun place. I remember playing in the pew during services when I was very young, and later Sunday school, Christmas pageants, singing in the children's choir, vacation church school in the summer. For a while my best friend was our priest's daughter. I spent many hours at the rectory and playing on the church play ground. We shared the same first name, and her mother called us Pixie and Dixie....I guess that reference really ages me....but I digress.

We moved from the town of my birth when I was 9--the first of several moves, but we found a new church each place we lived, and being involved in church remained important. I was confirmed when I was 12; at that time one had to be confirmed to receive communion and I wanted that very badly. In retrospect, whatever we were taught at confirmation classes went right over my head, but it was important to me at the time. My family quit going to church when I was in high school, and I was disappointed,actually. When I began dating my high school boyfriend who became tFoMC later, we went to church with his mother right up to the time we got married.

Despite this history of church involvement, I wouldn't have characterized myself as overly religious. I believed in God. I prayed, but mostly self-serving prayer (God, please help me pass this quiz--that type). I would've liked to have been an acolyte, but that wasn't allowed. And because women weren't ordained at the time, it never occurred to me that I might think about being a priest. But there was always some sort of God-connection.

When we were newly married tFoMC and I let church go by the wayside. Like many young couples, we took Sundays as time for ourselves. And because he was in the Navy we didn't settle down in one place. When Elder Son was born we returned to my mother-in-law's church where we were married to have him baptized, and we did the same when LD#1 was born. But about that time, I began thinking about going back to church. Being part of a church had been such a positive experience for me as a child that I wanted that for my children as well. I wanted them raised in a religious tradition even if they didn't choose to embrace it for themselves later. So when we moved to a place where we thought we would be for a few years, we began looking for a church.

And found one, in a most unexpected way. We were living in a place that had many Episcopal churches, and we intended to try several of them. But driving home one day from grocery shopping, I took a wrong turn and ended up on a road that was completely unfamiliar. When I finally found a place to turn around I saw a sign saying "Future home of Saint Somewhere's Episcopal Church" and giving a phone number. Intrigued I wrote the number down and called it when I got home. The congregation was meeting in a local school until its building was completed and we decided to try it. And it was a wonderful experience.

In the five or so years I'd been out of church, a new prayer book had come out. The language was suddenly comprehensible. And women were allowed to have liturgical roles--unimaginable in my childhood. What's more the congregation was welcoming and it quickly became our community. As we got involved I noticed something else. These people took their beliefs seriously. They discussed the Sunday readings. They prayed seriously. They believed all this really mattered in their daily lives.

The time I spent in that parish was life-changing for me. My faith grew. I learned to engage in theological conversations. I thought about what it all meant for my real life. I became friends with J, and her husband W who happened to be the parish priest. I found out that priests were real people like the rest of us. When my life became increasingly stressful I learned what it was like to be part of a supportive community and to have supportive friends.

During those years LD#2 was born, I had an identity crisis and went back to school to earn my BS and I was divorced from tFoMC. Life was complicated but my faith and my community held me in good stead. As I began to find my own voice I took on new roles in church--I read lessons and administered the chalice. I taught an adult Sunday School class. Once or twice I wondered what it would be like to be a priest, but I wasn't ready to let those thoughts go anywhere.

When I finished my BS I moved away to attend grad school. Friends had suggested a church we might like in Gradschool City, and I dutifully took us there as soon as I had all the boxes unpacked. It was without a doubt the most unfriendly church I have ever attended. And I was overloaded with class reading, having naively signed up for five classes my first semester when most of my classmates took only three. So we stopped going to church. It didn't help matters that my grad program had a distinct anti-religion bias. I never meant to give up church entirely, but that is what happened. Oh, I went to a Sunday night folk mass sometimes, but the routine was gone. I rationalized to myself that I didn't really need to go to church every Sunday. When I met and married the Kid's father, we talked about going to church but we never made it. The lovely daughters began to attend the local Baptist church because that's what kids in our small town did (something I really regret, but that is subject of another post perhaps) but I could not go there.

I still thought about God though. One of my office mates in grad school was a vocal atheist. She always maintained that it was just easier NOT to believe in God, any god. We had lots of long thoughtful discussions about God-related and religion-related things. I came to realize that unlike my friend, believing that God is was my default position--easier for me that conceiving of a world without God.

Fast forward a few years. The Kid was born, I finally finished my Ph.D. and took an academic job in Vermont. It was a good move for me, and for my kids, but it was the straw the broke the back of a very weak marriage, and a year later I found myself single-parenting a three-year old and a couple of teenagers. I was working to get out of the financial pit we'd gotten into during that brief marriage and working to get tenure. I was exhausted and stressed out. Having failed at marriage for a second time was very hard for me. It was a very dark period in my life. By this time I had been mostly out of church for 10 years. And for the very first time in my life the doubts about God, about religion, about faith that were sown in my grad school years began to sprout. I didn't question my belief in God, but I certainly questioned the relevance of religion, the validity of what I thought I had believed in.

Lovely Daughter #2 met someone who had a house church and agitated to be allowed to go; something about it set off my alarms, and as she continued to challenge me I thought about finding a church. And I thought about wanting the Kid to have that in his life, too. But I was so full of doubts that it was very very hard to actually do anything about it. Finally we made it to the local Episcopal church on Christmas Eve and I really enjoyed it. But I continued to struggle with what I believed, and it took me until the next summer to get back.

I don't know what finally made me decide to go, but one warm July Sunday the Kid, LD#2 and I went. To my great surprise the priest was a woman--the first time I had ever encountered a woman priest. And I still knew all the words. And the music was great, and people were friendly. We went back the next Sunday. And the next. Inside, however, I was still kicking and screaming. It felt good, in many ways it felt like I had come home, but at the same time I was engaged in an extremely critical inner dialogue.

I've long loved Madeleine L'Engle's writing, both fiction and non-fiction, and I was reading a lot of it at this point. She has a very cosmic theology that really speaks to me. In one of her books she talks specifically about finding God in the world around her, and that really spoke to me. Coincidentally, the first Sunday I went back, the young woman priest preached on finding God in the world around us. Gradually I began to think about God in new ways and to feel God in my life again.

Here's the part that could sound hokey to some people I guess. But it was very real for me. I found myself enfolded in a congregation the could handle my doubts. And gradually almost every one of those doubts was addressed in some way, usually in a way that took me by surprise. I began reading about theology and spirituality. I began to feel like that deep dark hole that had eaten its way through my soul might actually be filled. I felt like I had come home. I was in a congregation that was both politically and and theologically progressive and as I became involved with outreach and social justice ministries I realized how deeply my values were rooted in the social gospel. I felt God acting in my life and I began wondering what I was supposed to do with all this.

This all happened over a fairly short period of time, and it took me by surprise. I was getting ready to go up for tenure, and I thought I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. But gradually I began to feel like there was something else I was called to do. I never had a dramatic moment, a bolt from heaven that said, "you should become a priest" but as I tried to figure out what all this meant for my life, that was the dawning awareness that came to me. It started to feel like something I couldn't not pursue.

My parish priest was on sabbatical which gave me time to mull over this for a while. But as soon as he returned I made an appointment to talk to him. I wasn't sure I could say the words "I think I am called to become a priest" out loud, and I was sure that if I did he would laugh. But in fact, I did and he didn't. He took me quite seriously.

In the Episcopal church one cannot just decide to become a priest. There is a long period of discernment during which one must elaborate on one's sense of call with the parish priest, with fellow parishioners, with a diocesan committee and with the bishop. It's a long and sometimes painful process. Mine took place at the same time I was preparing and submitting my tenure file and that felt a bit schizophrenic. I received tenure before I was approved to go forward towards priesthood. People asked me how I could give that up, and it did give me pause because it had been the focus of my life for so long. But when the time came, it wasn't actually all that hard.

I was approved as a postulant for Holy Orders in September 2001--just days after the attack on the World Trade Center. I started seminary in September 2002. When I started grad school 15 years earlier, someone had told me that those would be the best years of my life and I often thought about how much that was NOT so. But seminary was different. I so felt like I was in the right place doing what I was supposed to be doing. I sometimes wish that all this would've happened when I was a bit younger, but I really think that I needed to go through everything I went through to be ready to do what I am doing now. And I feel really lucky, really blessed to able to do what I am doing now.

A Crass Political Ploy

The lame duck governor of this fair state has decided to press forward on a controversial issue to advance his own political agenda. Mitt Romney is asking the state supreme court to order a referendum on same-sex marriage (a constitutional amendment prohibiting it) on the ballot because the legislature failed to vote on the measure before adjourning until January. This is in a state where same-sex marriage is already legal--because the courts ruled that it was a justice issue, that it was discriminatory to deny marriage rights to same-sex couples.

I don't know whether such an amendment would pass in MA after several years of legal same-sex marriage. But really, matters of justice shouldn't be put to a popular vote. If the southern states had been given the opportunity to vote on civil rights in the sixties I hate to think where we'd be now.

Moreover, Romney is doing this just to garner attention from conservative Republicans as he tests the waters for a presidential run. Gack. I don't know how he was elected governor of this liberal state (I wasn't living here then), and certainly hope his presidential ambitions are thwarted.

I might as well get it out of my system now....

Arghhh....it's starting already. Tonight driving home from some errands I spotted the first Christmas decorations on houses in the neighborhood. Before Thanksgiving. Bah!

I'm a bit of a Scrooge about Christmas. On several levels. I hate the commercialization of the holiday. I hate the materialism. I hate that things have to start earlier and earlier each year. I hate that what was a religious holiday has been co-opted and then foisted on the world in a way the makes it devoid of its original meaning. I hate the way a Christian feast day (and not the most important one at that) is promoted as THE HOLIDAY OF THE YEAR for everyone regardless of their religious tradition. I hate pseudo-Christmas music (Jingle Bells is NOT a Christmas song. I'm just saying) and Christmas carols played non-stop beginning at Halloween.

All that is the macro level of my Scroogishness...

On the micro-level, the personal level, I have a history of stressful Christmases...Christmases where tFoMC was at sea (three in a row) and I had to do it all on my own. Christmases after we separated when I wasn't sure how I was going to afford even modest presents for the kids, and I still had to do it on my own--it always worked out, but it was always stressful. Christmases when I had to share the kids with their dad, including the Christmas I spent all alone all day because my car needed an unexpected repair the day I was supposed to go away, and there was an ice storm (in Florida!) the next day. And there were the Christmases I spent with my parents (because isn't Christmas the quintessential family time?) each marked by at least one huge blow up with my mom that left me feeling awful.

I'm trying to get over my Christmas baggage, to adopt a new model of Christmas. I don't go "home" for Christmas any more, even though staying away just adds to my status as the blacksheep in my family. I've minimized the whole gift giving routine--I enjoy buying gifts when there is less pressure about doing so. I try to embrace Advent as a season--I have Advent calendars and an Advent wreath, and I continue my tradition of not putting up tree until Dec. 22 or so. I enjoy the memories involved with our large collection of Christmas ornaments--one bought for each child for each year, perhaps my favorite family tradition. This year for the first time in a while I will have a large family gathering at my house, and because Christmas Eve is on Sunday (the worst possible day for clergy), some of them will take over the cooking chores. I'm looking forward to it.

Nonetheless this time of year, when all the hoopla starts I get cranky. The stores are full of Christmas stuff, the decorations are sprouting, the bad music has started, and it's not Thanksgiving yet. Sigh.....

Draft??

The news today is reporting that Rep. Charles Rangel D-NY will introduce a bill to reinstate the draft when Congress reconvenes next year. Not everyone would have to serve in the military--there would be options for community service as well. But Rangel believes that having a draft would deter politicians going to war. He argues that Bush would never have invaded Iraq had a draft been in place.

I am adamantly opposed to the draft, and I think this notion that it would be a deterrent to war is based on specious reasoning. Rangel says that no one in Congress would vote to support a war if there wasa chance that constituents or children of constituents might be killed. That certainly hasn't been the case in previous wars.

I wrote my high-school senior term paper on why we shouldn't have a draft (at the time we did). For a while I thought that a universal draft in which the military was just one option among many might be okay. When I was teaching I met many first year students who might have benefited from a year or two off before starting college. A year of community service of some sort might provide an opportunity for growth, a time off from studying for a while, a time to gain some perspective and to think more about the future.

But I'm not sure the draft is the answer. I don't think ANYONE should be forced to serve in the military against their will. And I'm not sure I trust our government at this time to set up a system that would make military service truly optional, truly one choice among many.

What think you, readers? Should we have a draft of any sort? Why?

Convocation

I spent yesterday and today at the annual Convocation of the Episcopal Church's Province I, which is comprised of the dioceses of Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine, Massachusetts, Western Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut. These gatherings are theme based, and this year's theme was "Our Story, God's Story." Unlike many big church meetings, this one was designed to be completely intergenerational, with activities appropriate for all ages, and with children completely incorporated into the liturgy. Our time together was filled with greeting of friends (including at least one blogger on my blogroll), provocative talks about how to make the church a place that truly welcomes children and youth, browsing displays and the bookstore and sharing joy-filled worship, complete with gifted story-tellers, toddling babies, drumming and song.

It was really wonderful to spend time with a group of Episcopalians who are positive about the church, who are focused on the mission of the church rather than all the controversies the church is embroiled in. The Episcopal Church in New England is small compared to others--especially the UCC and Roman Catholics. But it is remarkably energetic and progressive. The seven New England dioceses have elected five women bishops since 1988 (including +Barbara Harris, Bishop Suffragan of MA and the first woman bishop in the Anglican Communion ever, and +Mary Adelia McLeod of Vermont, the first woman diocesan bishop).

I enjoyed hearing some of the bishops talk about how they see teaching as part of their vocation--and was I ever impressed with Bp. Knudsen of Maine; I've heard good things about her before, but never met her until this weekend--and hearing teens talk about how we can help them feel more a part of the church. But perhaps the most fun session I went to was one about how to put on a U2 eucharist (U2charist). Given the age of my congregation, I'm not sure we'll ever be able to do, but I hope I can attend one sometime.

And the Episcopal Church really is a small world. It is impossible to go to an event like this without making all sorts of six degrees (or less) of separation connections between people you know--always fun.

Now I'm going to peruse the books I bought there...

Happy Birthday...

to the Kid, who turns 15 today....

who celebrated by seeing the new James Bond flick last night with his friends....

who spent the afternoon playing poker with said friends....

who is now IMing said friends while working out new guitar riffs.

My little boy has grown up.

Because I Don't Have Time for a Real Post

and this is kinda funny.....as seen at Quaker Pastor's

What is your inner musical instrument?

You're an Oboe. Girl power?
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Random Bits of November

• It's been unbelievably warm here the last couple of days; it makes it hard to realize that it is the middle of November. Shouldn't it be frosty out, with snowflakes threatening?
  

• The big windstorm we had a couple of weeks ago knocked most of the rest of the leaves off the trees, but there is one tree in my side yard that still has the most incredible red leaves. I should try to get a picture before they all fall off. I think it is a Japanese Maple; during the spring and summer the leaves are a dark burgundy, but now they are a brilliant crimson.

• Last night just after dark I was driving down my driveway when a deer ran right in front of me. We've had lots of wildllife here, but that is the first deer I've seen.
  

• I know that Thanksgiving is next week, but I'm still in denial about Christmas being right around the corner. I had to run in the mall tonight (Gah!) though and all the decorations reminded me again.

• Teh mall decorations, they are ugly. Really ugly. In their effort to be generic holiday they are just dumb. And ugly

• The days are really really short. I'm not so bothered by the darkness, but it is always a shock to look at my watch and see that it is only 4:00 and then notice that is nightfall is approaching.

• One of my Christmas cacti is blooming. The other one probably won't bloom til February or March if previous years are any indication. So why the heck do we call them "Christmas cactuese? (cacti???)
  

Competence, Confidence and Conceit

This is an edited version of a post that has been sitting in my draft folder for more than a month, and floating in my head for longer than that....

For all of my adult years I have struggled with feelings of incompetence, with fears of not measuring up, with the "imposter syndrome," with, as Phantom Scribbler would put it, the whole inadequacy schitck. Years of therapy and self-reflection have given me some insights into why I feel this way and experiencing some measure of success in what I've attempted has eased this a bit, but these feelings still linger somewhere just below the surface, ready to bubble up into my consciousness. I can still remember how it feels to be afraid to offer an opinion, sure that it is worthless, that something I think must be stupid, to be sure that I'm going to mess up somehow, that I'm bound to fail. And I still have my mother to remind me at least once a year that I'm selfish, that I don't really "get it", that if I were really any good as a psychologist/priest my life wouldn't be such a mess (she never uses those exact words, but that is the gist).

Recently, these feelings have been complicated by a new twist: what I can only describe as a fear of feeling too competent. As much as I want to be a good writer and a good preacher and a good teacher, I squirm a bit when people compliment me on sermons or on something I've written for the newsletter or on a class I've led. I love the affirmation but I somehow feel like I shouldn't. When does confidence in one's abilities cross the line into conceit? If I feel good about my abilities, do I risk overlooking my weaknesses, the places where I need to change? Am I really "competent" or am I just fooling myself and others? (ah... there's that inadequacy schtick rearing its ugly head again.) I wonder, too, how much my struggles with feeling competent and confident are gender based? Do women worry more about these things? Or is this just my particular neurosis?

Why can't I just relax and feel good about what I do well without all the angst?

In a Word

The meme of the moment, as seen at profgrrrl's...

You can only type one word. No explanations.

1. Yourself: work-in-progress
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend: nonexistent
3. Your hair: silver
4. Your mother: difficult
5. Your father: smart
6. Your favorite item: camera
7. Your dream last night: friend
8. Your favorite drink: dietlimecoke
9. Your dream car: none
10. The room you are in: dusty
11. Your ex: jerk
12. Your fear: flying
13. What you want to be in 10 years: happy
14. Who you hung out with last night: myself
15. What you're not: rich
16. Muffins: blueberry
17: One of your wish list items: MacBook
18: Time: fleeting
19. The last thing you did: dishes
20. What you are wearing: jammies
21. Your favorite weather: fall
22. Your favorite book: L'Engle
23. The last thing you ate: chocolate
24. Your life: evolving
25. Your mood: reflective
26. Your best friend (s): elsewhere
27. What are you thinking about right now: life
28. Your car: bug
29. What are you doing at the moment: blogging
30. Your summer: fun
31. Your relationship status: alone
32. What is on your tv: none
33. What is the weather like: gray
34. When is the last time you laughed: today

An Embarrassing Moment

MC asked me to describe an embarrassing moment from my past. Oh, there have been many, but this is the first one that comes to mind.

The summer I was 14 I went to the lake with my best friend and her family. It must have been Fourth of July weekend. Going to the lake was not something we usually did, and it must have been a special event. At any rate, her older brother and some of his friends were there, too. Someone offered to teach us to water ski--something I had never done. So off we went in the boat--me, my friend, her brother and his friends, and her father--maybe some other adult, too. My friend went first and after a few tries was doing pretty well. Then it was my turn. I had on a two-piece bathing suit, the top of which fastened with two buttons in the back. The second or third time I was trying to get up on the skis, just when I thought I had it, I felt an alarming pop! as the buttons flew off my top, and my top fell off. And I fell in the water very quickly, completely MORTIIED. My friend jumped in the water and swam to me and helped me tie my top together, but that was the end of water skiing for me!


Chichimama, I'll anwer your question tomorrow or the next day. Anymore questions, anyone?

It's 11:30...

...and I haven't posted yet today.

It has been a relatively quiet Sunday. Sermon well-received , no stressful moments at church. This afternoon I felt restless and thought I would get some work done by writing some articles for the newsletter. But after walking down to the church to pick up some notes, I decided to lie on the couch for a while before beginning, and that was the end of that--I took a looooong nap instead.

Apparently that still wasn't enough, because after dinner when I sat down to read blogs and then write, I dozed off again, one of those on-again, off-again dozes where you aren't really sound asleep, but you aren't awake enough to do anything either. So in a moment I am off to bed.

A couple of blogs I've read (and I'm too lazy/tired to get the links now) have solicited questions from the blogosphere, so to prompt my blogging this coming week I am doing likewise: Dear readers, anything you'd like to know? Of course I reserve the right to stretch the truth as necessary!

It's things like this

that make all the trying parts of parenting seem worth it. I'm just saying.

Saturday Stuff

• When is a retreat not a retreat? When it's for work and about work. It's "in" I guess to call what are extended staff meetings "retreats." We had one today at my boss' home. I'd been dreading it--mostly just because of the time it would take up. But it really was fine. We all had done a Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and talked about what the results meant for how we interact as a staff and how we see ourselves in our jobs. My type (INFP) hasn't changed since the first time I did the MBTI 20 years ago, but where I fall on each scale has moved a bit. This is the first time I've ever had any E points (I"ve always been off the scale I but this time I had 5 E points--out of 28 so still not many) and I had no J points at all for the first time. Not sure that is a really good thing, but there it is.
• One good thing is that ever since our really tense exchange last Sunday, my boss has been making an effort to communicate better. And that makes me a whole lot easier to get along with. It's been a pretty hectic week with a fair share of crises to deal with so I am grateful for any improvement in the work atmosphere.
  
• I don't know how to break the habit of writing sermons at the last minute. I try to start them sooner, but somehow the words never gel until I am under some time pressure. I've always worked that way, and I plan things accordingly, but sometimes I think it would be really nice to be able to say on Thursday or Friday that I was finished with the sermon. At least I only preach every other week--that I like.
• Not sure what we're doing for Thanksgiving yet. I'm not stressed about not being sure, but every once in a while I realize that most of the world doesn't wait until the very last minute to make decisions about things like this.
• From now til January I will hate more than usual having to go into stores. Too much Christmas way too early. I quickly turn into Scrooge. I hate the secularization and commercialism of Christmas.
• After 10 days of NaBloPoMo I realize I like the discipline of knowing I am committed to writing something (anything?) everyday. I don't know that the quality of what I write has improved any, but there is still over half a month to go. It will be interesting to see how things change at the end of the month.
• The Kid will be 15 next week. November through January is birthday time at chez Rev. Dr. Mom--LD#2, the Kid, me, and LD#1 spaced out over that time. We're not big celebrators, and I feel badly about that sometimes. My kids definitely got the short end of the stick when it came to birthday parties. So did I for that matter.
  
• The Kid turning 15 makes me feel old. And it means that in a year we have to deal with the whole driving thing. And I am NOT GOOD with the whole driving thing.
  
• Monday we (the staff) are painting the church office. Which means another week with insufficient time off. Of course I can take compensatory time, but finding a way to work that in proves to be VERY difficult. I didn't volunteer for this job and it's a bit annoying that I'm expected to show up for it. Plus I'm a crappy painter.
  
• It's been interesting watching how things have unfolded since the election. On the Diane Rehm show Friday they were talking about how Bush had already decided to ditch Rumsfeld when he made that big statement about keeping him around til the end of this administration. Some have argued that it would've helped the Republicans if Bush had ditched him sooner; I don't know but I find Bush's prevarication interesting.
• Nancy Pelosi for President? I could get behind that . Or a Pelosi/Obama ticket--in either order.
  

This is a test...

I tried to open my blog and there is NOTHING there. But when I go to the bloger dashboard, it looks like everything is there. Weird. So this is a test ...

Edited to add: It's back, wherever it went ....so you can all ignore this inane post.

It's a Small (Blogger) World

Once upon a time, I started a blog. I chose to blog anonymously with mixed feelings, but once I began writing, it seemed like the right choice. Of course as bloggers do, I also revealed my identity to other bloggers as I got to "know" them.

My older daughter (LD#1) who lives far far away also started a blog. Hers is not anonymous, and she uses it tell people about her life there. I read it but never commented on the blog b/c I didn't want to join Friendster, but she knew that I read it. When LD#1 was here last spring she was using my computer and found my blog. I was a little taken aback, but the cat was out of the bag so to speak. And LD#1 wasted no time telling LD#2, my younger daughter about the blog. I knew from my sitemeter that LD#2 was reading, and eventually we began talking about various blogs and posts.

A few weeks ago LD#2 posted at Phantom's whining ball using her real name. You should get a blogger name, I said to her. Oh, maybe sometime I will she said back to me. And that was the end of it, even though I didn't see her name around anymore.

So today we're talking on the phone and I asked her something and she says, you can read about it on my blog. Really? You have a blog? She wouldn't tell me what it was, but it only took me about 30 seconds to find it. And it's a good blog. And she's had it since September?! I've been reading her comments on other blogs without knowing it was her.

Perhps our secrecy with each other is indicative of the weird family we come from. Or maybe it's just our individual desires to have our own voices. But I'm here to say, we are all out now. And you know who we all are. It's a small small (blogging) world.

PS Elder Son, if you're reading too, would you just let me know? The Kid, he's not interested.

The Day After

• I went to bed last night and woke up this morning listening to NPR's election coverage. What a wonderful feeling to hear election news that isn't totally depressing! Deval Patrick as governor! Democrats take the House, and make gains in the Senate! Bernie Sanders elected to the Senate! Nancy Pelosi as Speaker of the House!
• I am totally psyched about the change in power in Congress but it is also too bad that moderate Republicans like Lincoln Chaffee are among those who got booted. Chaffee sounds more Democratic than some of the Democrats (I am a bit alarmed by the reports of pro-life and pro-gun Democrats being elected). I wonder at his allegiance to a party whose positions he is clearly out of sync with.
  
• And then to hear that Rumsfeld is out! WOW. Wasn't it just a few days ago that Bush was saying that he wanted Rumsfeld and Rove to stay for the rest of his term. If only we could get rid of Rove and Cheney, too...
• I intentionally avoid listening to Bush and his gang in press conferences, speeches, etc. I just can't stand it. But just a little while ago NPR played some clips of Rumsfeld talking to the press. I'm sure they were chosen to make this point, but jeez, he sounds like as much of an idiot as Bush. (Why am I surprised by this?)
• Now we need a viable presidential candidate for 2008. I am surprisingly lukewarm about Hillary Clinton. I say surprisingly because I used to be one of her biggest fans. But frankly, she's become more conservative than I'm comfortable with. Is it too soon for Barack Obama?
• There is a fairly well documented trend of people becoming more conservative as they grow older, but I am living proof that it's only a trend. I was raised a liberal and the older I get, the lefter I get. In many ways I'm a socialist at heart. Which may explain why I'm a fan of Bernie Sanders and not so much of Hillary Clinton.
  
• Voters in Massachusetts defeated a proposition that would allow grocery stores to sell wine. I don't get the uproar over this. Everywhere else I've lived you could buy beer and wine at the grocery store....but in Massachusetts you have to go to the "packie." Of course the packies funded a major campaign against this proposition because they don't want to lose business, but I am still surprised that it is controversial.
  

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The South That's a Southern accent you've got there. You may love it, you may hate it, you may swear you don't have it, but whatever the case, we can hear it.
Philadelphia
The Midland
The Northeast
The Inland North
The West
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

This surprises me not at all, since I was born and raised in the South. Of course, any Southerner will tell you that there is more than one kind of Southern accent, and I think mine is fairly faint and regionally indistinct these days--but still detectable. And my word choices are perhaps more Southern than my accent, although New England has rubbed off on me a bit, and you are likely to hear me say "wicked" and "y'all" in the same sentence, which freaks out some people.

Not Bad for a Southern Girl

As seen at Phantom Scribbler's place:

Dude! You're 92% from Massachusetts!

Dude! Me and Sully and Fitzie and Sean are gonna hit Landsdowne tonight after the game, hang out at the Beerworks. I'll pick you up at the Coop at 6.

How Massachusetts are you?
Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Election Day Rambling #2--Religion and Politics

Linking one's religious beliefs to one's political values seems almost to be a requirement for candidates these days. Of course, the trend emerged with the much-taunted link between Evangelical Christians and conservative Republicans during the last Presidential campaign. Now moderate Democrats are beginning to appeal to religious values as well.

As a religious person, as a priest, I find this troubling. While I believe that my values are grounded in my religious beliefs, I don't assume that one must share my religious beliefs to share my values, or vice versa, for that matter. Nor do I believe that I, as a religious leader, ought to be imposing my political values on those who look to me for spiritual guidance. I am not shy about teaching, about talking about what I see as the link between the two FOR ME but that's as far as it goes.

A friend writes about this in a compelling op-ed piece. She says, in part:

One common characteristic of the Democratic appropriation of religion in political discourse is a reluctance to impose one's own specific religious beliefs on the public good, even in the presence of the assertion that commitment to religious and ethical beliefs serves the public good.

She goes on to address the appropriation of the concept of "family values" by conservatives, especially conservative Christians. She says:

We can all agree that marriage between a man and a woman is integral to family values and that it has social and religious sanctions. And there are also social and religious sanctions for other models embodying family values. Our lived experience and our religious traditions tell us that there isn't in fact a single model of a family and its values that our politicians or we can idolize. Look around at our own examples: single-parent families, families of grandparents raising grandchildren, blended families, adopted children, single people, same-sex couples with or without children, and nuclear families. Look at all the different households described in the Bible from the patriarchs to Jesus' own: Abraham's included his wives Sarah and Hagar with their children Isaac and Ishmael together with Abraham's concubine Keturah and her six children. God promises that through Abraham's descendants all the other nations of the earth would be blessed. In Jesus' time households continued to be diverse: the sisters Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus constituted a household, Paul was a single man and Jesus was the child of a single parent.

She goes on to say:

Different models of households in religious traditions provide a warrant for the diverse patterns of our own families. The recognition of a broad spectrum of household arrangements mandates that we affirm and celebrate in our civic and religious lives patterns of family life that differ from ours. Diverse families share similar values: blended or traditional, same-sex or single-parent households all know, for example, that forgiveness is the glue necessary to bind families together. This is not to deny that living out forgiveness is hard work. Nor is it to exclude the possibility that some forms of families may be "tares in amongst the wheat" to be left until the final harvest. But to err on the side of generosity and magnanimity by including and celebrating different models of families and their values is both to affirm our own experience and to identify a more complex and more honest religious tradition, wherein God models consummate generosity and magnanimity. When we link this reality to the recognition that judgment is God's and not our own, we will have honest public debates on family values.

All too frequently lately I've felt like I need to apologize for Christians--it feels to me that the harsh judgmentalism and intolerance of right-wing Christians casts a bad light on all of us who consider ourselves Christian. I want to say, "We're not all like that!" I am especially appreciative of this work that points out the weaknesses in the "family values" arguments made by the Christian right.

Election Day Rambling #1--Instant Runoff Voting

MC posted today on her dilemma about whether to vote for a third-party candidate for governor, and that got me thinking again about instant runoff voting (IRV). Lovely Daughter#1's first job after college was as an organizer for a Progressive Party candidate for governor in Vermont (running against Howard Dean no less). This candidate was eminently qualified in many ways, but because the Republican candidate was a nut-case (really--this was just after civil unions became legal, and she was vicious over that issue) people who might have supported the Progressive candidate were afraid to do so--the so-called spoiler effect. Likewise, people still argue about whether Al Gore might have won if Ralph Nader had not siphoned off some of the vote.

IRV is designed to address this by letting voters rank order their choices. If no candidate has a majority, the candidate getting the lowest number of votes is eliminated and the second choice on those ballots is then counted. This process continues until someone has a majority. A number of Vermont towns have endorsed this method of voting and Burlington, Vermont's largest city used it successfully in its last mayoral election.

I am not very politically active aside from voting and participating in an occasional demonstration. My inactivity stems in part from a feeling of futility, a feeling that I can't really have any effect on the system--not the most helpful attitude I realize. Perhaps working to promote IRV would be a way to work for what seems to me a positive change in our political system, one that would allow more diverse candidates to have a real place in our electoral system.

Toes...and shoes

LG's first meme


The Kid's feet, taken at my ordiantion to the diaconate, June 4, 2005








Lovely Daughter #1, at the rehearsal dinner, June 23, 2006






The Kid, just before the wedding, June 24, 2006


I wish I had the picture taken after all the bridesmaids, bride, mothers of bride and groom and various others had pedicures the morning of the wedding, but I don't know whose camera was used to take that picture!

Attitude Adjustment

I've been in a dark mood the last few days, and my last two posts were pretty grumpy. I don't like myself when I am that way, and I don't know why anyone else would either. This morning is a bright beautiful day, and the world looks better to me. The fact that I get a real day off today probably helps, too. While I was cooking breakfast for myself (real breakfast--grilled tomatoes, Boca sausage and an egg--the kind of breakfast I only have on days off) I thought of things that make me happy today:

• The bright sun and brilliant blue sky outside my windows.
• The birds at my bird feeder
• This and this which let me make myself a maple latte any time I want one
• Friends who like me even when I'm grumpy
• The blogging community--many of whom I feel like I know even though we've not met f2f

What is making you happy today?

Weekend? What Weekend?

Rumor has it that this was the weekend. I knew when I took on this priest gig that weekends would take on new meaning, and I've developed a new sort of weekend rhythm, but this weekend has felt out of sync even with that, and more exhausting than it should be.

It started with Friday, my supposed day off. I spent several hours in the office preparing for one of the two funerals scheduled for Saturday afternoon. Besides having a nice phone conversation with a friend on Friday morning before I went to work, nothing about the day felt much like time off.

Saturday morning began with an 8:30 am committee meeting. This particular committee is one of those filled with people who are there mostly to make sure that you don't do anything out of line (in this case, nothing out of line liturgically speaking). People are there not because they have interesting things to discuss or projects to plan, but because they see their role as watchdogs of the status quo. So mostly a boring meeting.

The two funerals took up most of the rest of the day. Both were for people who had lived long (91 and 87 years) and rich lives, and both were truly celebrations of those lives--celebrations tinged with sadness at the loss of a loved one, but also full of gratitude for the love and times shared with that loved one. Participating in these funerals (officiant at one and assisting at the other) wasn't onerous and in some ways felt like a privilege, but at the end of the day I was exhausted. So much so that I just came home and sat rather numbly in front of the computer, and fought off a very dark mood.

Today was a fairly normal Sunday in most respects, but in others it was very stressful. The stress came as a result of the somewhat difficult working relationship I've had with my boss lately. On the surface our relationship appears quite congenial, but I know the tension is there, and today it bubbled up a bit--although it did lead to a short conversation after church that cleared the air a bit, which I guess in the long run is a good thing. But I really hate it when things go so awry right before church starts because during church I had this fuming subtext running through my mind as I tried to concentrate on being present to what I was doing--presiding at the Eucharist.

The Kid and I went out for lunch, and I thought I would take a nap this afternoon--that love revered clergy-tradition Sunday afternoon nap! But instead I went out to get supplies for another school project for the Kid, and then decided it was too late for the nap. Nonetheless I did doze off with the laptop on my lap again.

Tomorrow is my other day off and I want to use it well since next Friday and Saturday will again be full. Part of me wants to drive to City in Small State to have lunch with a friend and go to Whole Foods, but part of me wants to stay here and do nothing. Undecided at this point.

Two Funerals and a Meeting

is how I spent my day, and I'm too tired for a real post. How tired am I? I've been sittting here with my laptop on my lap, dozing off and on for the last hour. But as least I have my obligatory post for NaBloPoMo.....

More tomorrow.

A True Love Story

When Lovely Daughter #2 was an infant she began to suck her fingers--her first two fingers on her right hand with her palm turned outward--yes it sounds awkward, but she began to do it that way sleeping on her tummy, and she could also hold on to and caress the crib sheet at the same time. Eventually she became attached to this , holding it in her hand while she sucked her fingers and carrying it wherever she went. It really was an ideal security object because it was replaceable. My mother worked at BigBoxToyStore at the time and kept us well supplied with them. They came in different colors, and LD came to refer to them by color--her "blue'' or "pink" or "yellow". "Blue" was her favorite, but she was happy with any of them--so if one was dirty or lost we could pull out another. We never left home without a "blue" or "pink"or "yellow."

Meanwhile my friend J became LD#2's godmother and showered lots of love not only on LD#2 but also on Elder Son and LD#1. And she remained my closest friend. For many reasons, the years after LD#2's birth were stressful, and having a friend like J was wonderful for all of us. When LD#2 was three, J and her husband W finally became parents to a beautiful baby girl. Her arrival was much anticipated and much celebrated and we were all so happy and excited. Finally the summer morning arrived when I was going to take Elder Son and the LDs to meet baby j. When I called to them that it was time to go, they came into the living room each carrying a beloved toy: Elder Son had his stuffed panda, LD#1 a Strawberry Shortcake ragdoll, and LD#2 a "pink". These were, they announced to me, gifts for baby j.

My first impulse was horror at the idea of giving a new baby used and possilbly germy toys. Weren't baby gifts supposed to bright and shiny and new? But fortunately it took me a moment to think about how to tell my children that perhaps we should go buy a gift for baby j and in that moment I realized what precious gifts my children were offering. They wanted baby j to have something special, something already well-loved. These were true gifts from the heart. And they were received that way as well.

J, W and baby j moved away to Big City just a year later. Many tears were shed over their leaving, but our friendship was too strong to be easily broken. J and I didn't see each other very often but whenever we did we picked up as if we'd just been together the day before. LD#2 flew all by herself to visit Big City, and J and baby j, now little j visited us in Florida. Years passed. J, W and j moved back down south and we moved north. J flew to Vermont for LD's high school graduation. LD#2 and j ended up at the same college during LD's last year there.

This past summer LD#2 was married at a lovely outdoor wedding, and J and W came to Vermont to share in the festivities. It was a wonderful reunion--the first time J and W and I and all my children had all been together in years. At the reception when it was time to offer toasts, J went to the microphone carrying a bag with her. And she told the story of how LD#2 used to suck her fingers and how attached she was to her "blue" and "pink", and of the gifts my children brought to baby j that summer long ago. And then she opened the bag and pulled out this:

Grumpy

The Kid was up til almost 2am finishing his biology project last night. SIGH. To his credit, it turned out nicely and he still managed to get up in time for school this morning. I stayed in bed later than I should have, but I was still tired all day, and work had its fair share of aggravations. I didn't get home until 6:30 this evening, and when I came in the house it was awfully dark and quiet. The Kid was sound asleep. When he goes to sleep he is very hard to wake up, and he has this way of being partly awake and talking, but not really being awake that used to freak me out. Now I can usually tell if he is really awake or not. So even though he responded to me a couple of times when I tried to wake him up, it was 8:30 before he actually was awake enough to have a real conversation. And of course, he had homework to do for tomorrow. So it was not a particularly cheerful place at chez Rev. Dr. Mom this evening. And who knew I'd still be dealing with sleep schedules when the Kid was almost 15?

The weather was damp and chilly and dark today, too, and I think that increased my grumpiness. I was tired enough to doze off while the Kid was doing homework, but then instead of just going to bed when he finished, I am sitting here at the computer. Because I am foolish that way.

I am disappointed that I will miss both a long planned blogger meetup and the investiture of the new Presiding Bishop, +Katharine Jefferts Schori this weekend. Saturday looks to be a long day: an 8:30 am meeting followed by two funerals. And one of those funerals necessitates me working at least half a day tomorrow, my day off. Again.

Okay I am going to bed now so I won't be grumpy tomorrow. I hope.

Happy Birthday

Lovely Daughter #2....

It was a brisk sunny fall Sunday afternoon when LD#2 made her entrance into the world. Starting a lifelong trend, she tried to do it the hard way, coming with both feet first, and the result was a c-section. I'd known about this possibility for a few weeks but the final decision wasn't made until I arrived at the hospital with contractions just a few minutes apart and the labor and delivery docs did a quick exam. Since this was in the days before routine ultrasounds, they called for a quick x-ray and I was immediately prepped for the c-section.

The father of my first three children was a submariner, and the realities of submarine schedules meant if dad was home for the conception he likely wouldn't be home for the birth. So my good friend J had volunteered as my labor coach. J went with me to childbirth classes and we practiced breathing and relaxing, and she was eagerly anticipating being present for the birth. When I knew for sure that I would have a c-section I felt as bad for her as I did for me because after several years of dealing with infertility, she and her husband had just started the long process of adoption. She had looked at LD's birth as her one shot at a birth experience, but they wouldn't let her accompany me into the OR. Twenty-six years ago things were different--it's a bit shocking to me to think about how different!

We lived about 30 minutes away from the Navy hospital, but on that particular day traffic was complicated by the local fair and it took almost twice that long to get there. I am one of those lucky people blessed with very short labors, and I knew my contractions were getting really close together as we sat stuck in traffic. J kept saying, "are you okay?" and I kept nodding and breathing, not wanting to panic her by admitting just how close my contractions were. So when we arrived at the hospital things moved VERY quickly.

It was a bit rough having a c-section with a 2 and a half year old and a five year old at home and a husband at sea. The other reality of submariner life at the time was the almost total lack of communication while the sub was underway. Families could send forty word messages ("familygrams") to crew members, but the crew members had no way of responding. So for almost three months there was no two-way communication. And forty word messages are limited to say the least. So I knew that FoMC knew about the birth (he also received an official Red Cross notification) but I couldn't talk to him or hear from him for two months after LD was born.

Because I am both stubborn and a quick healer I was up and around and wanting to do everything pretty quickly. My mother stayed a week after we came home from the hospital, but then I was on my own--three kids under six and me. LD#2 was a very content baby--she rarely cried and she slept for long stretches--so long that I would have to wake her to eat. But my life was still a blur--I had to drive elder son to kindergarten which because we had moved to a new house but not changed his school meant a 25 minute commute each way. It felt like we had just enough time to get back home, nurse LD#2, let her nap for a bit and then get back in the car to fetch elder son. LD#1 was good at entertaining herself, but she was just a toddler and she needed attention, too. November and December passed in a fog. Somehow groceries were bought and laundry was done, but I don't remember how. I can remember finishing up Christmas preparations in a total panic that I wouldn't get everything done--but somehow I did. I remember getting the tree that year in our VW Rabbit with three kids and a load of groceries in the car plus the tree sticking out the back--I wish I had a picture of that!

It's funny how birthdays bring back all these memories. And how quickly time goes by. LD#2 is married now--how is that possible?

Happy Birthday, LD#2, and thanks for the memories. I look forward to many more.

November 1st

Day one of NaBloPoMo during which I have pledged to post every day.

I'd like to write a long thoughtful post, but the Kid is working on his biology project--a 3D cell costume that was supposed to be for Hallowe'en but (thankfully) the due date was pushed back to tomorrow, and I know that at any moment I'll be callled to help cut or glue something. So instead I'll just mention all the things I'd like to blog about--and who knows maybe over the next month I'll actually blog about some of them.

I'd like to blog about the NPR series running this week which takes a close look at some of the terms used in the news these days, like Islamic fundamentalism and jihad and today's word: war.

I'd like to blog about my conflicted feelings about confidence and competence-and the imposter syndrome--this post has been sitting in my draft folder for a a rewrite.

I'd like to blog about what it was like to be a single mother. But it is a hard subject

I'd like to blog about something witty and clever--but I'm not that witty and clever.

I'd like to blog about the debate on the nature of marriage that is on-going in the Episcopal Church and in my diocese. I wrote a paper in seminary on this but I think I would take a different angle now.

And as I expected, I'm being paged......

Happy Hallowe'en

Opinions about Hallowe'en are mixed in the blogosphere. Chichimama and Phantom Scribber are feeling a little grinchy about the day, while Halloween Lover--well, what would you expect?! Here at chez Rev. Dr. Mom, it has been quiet, as expected. We learned last year that no on trick-or-treats on our street. I guess I'm not surprised--there are not many kids around, and the houses are kind of spread out. Our house is back away from the street, too. But I kind of miss having little ghosts and goblins ringing the door bell. I miss carving a pumpkin and giving out candy. I even miss dressing up-the last few years I've dressed up to give out candy. I have a great Dumbledore costume (hey, those academic robes I paid big bucks for ought to be good for something!) and I make a pretty good witch as well.

When I was a kid, our costumes most years were put together from things we already had. I remember being a gypsy (would kids even know what that is these days? would it seem racist?) wearing a skirt of my mother's and her costume jewelry. And hobos were cool costumes back then, too, and it was always easy to come up with old raggy things to wear. Of course, some things turned out better than others...I remember clearly the year I was in second grade wanting desparately to be a princess (long before the "Disneyfication" of such a thing--it was more a fairy tale notion). My mother had a trunkful of old semi-formal dresses from her college days that she let us use for dress-up, and although she was not thrilled to do so, she let me wear one for Hallowe'en. Alas, it poured rain and my lovely princess gown was completely obscured by my raincoat.

We usually took pillow cases to collect our loot and I remember the excitement of feeling their increasing weight. Back in those days of relative innocence we freely sampled our goodies as we collected them and we passed on helpful information to passing friends like, "Be sure to go to Mrs. Jones'; she's giving out _________ (fill in whatever was most desirable that year).

Hallowe'en was also the time for ghost stories and other frightening tales. I remember one Hallowe'en --I must have been 5 or 6 at the most--when my older sister and her friends had me absolutely terrified by their stories of what might happen to innocent children on Hallowe'en night. I was frightended of cemetaries for years, and never really liked ghost stories after that time. But somehow it didn't spoil my enjoyment of Hallowe'en.

It makes me feel old when I say things like this but I really think things were simpler "back then". Hallowe'en wasn't so commercialized; there were costumes available to buy but they were generally inferior to what you could make at home. At most you might want a mask to complete your outfit. Hallowe'en wasn't a Martha Stewart decorating occassion either--even jack-o-lanterns weren't as ubiquitous as they are now, at least where I lived, nor was it a Hallmark holiday. We didn't worry about safety then: my friends and I had the run of the neighborhood from a fairly young age without parental supervision, and we never thought twice about the safety of the treats we were given.

Nor was Hallowe'en the introduction to the Christmas hoopla. Last night when I was in the grocery store the shelves were being stocked with Christmas candy even as they marked down the Hallowe'en treats. Not even a day in between. I guess Christmas decorations won't be far behind.

National Blog Posting Month

Starts tomorrow!

Can I do it?

Can I post everyday?

Will I run out of words?

Or bore you all to tears?

Or even bore myself to tears?

Stay tuned.....

If it's Monday it must be time for ....

more random bits:

• I was away in Nearby City Friday and Saturday for our Diocesan Convention. As a rule, I enjoy convention--I love the energy and seeing people from around the diocese and hearing about what is happening other places and the large convention Eucharist. But I found myself missing my former diocese--its smaller size meant that I knew more people and felt more connected. I've been here a year and a quarter and I still feel like an outsider. Convention made me want to find ways to be more connected.
  
  
• Convention was held at Large Beautiful Church in Nearby City. I'd only been there once before and I enjoyed exploring the space a bit. I cannot imagine every serving in such a church (not that I wouldn't want to; I just don't see it happening) but I always love spending time in them.
  
  
• I loved just being in the city. We actually stayed in the 'burbs and took the train in, which I loved and it made me think that perhaps I should consider the 'burbs if they would put me closer to the city--I've resisted the idea of living in the 'burbs if I can avoid it. Friday night we walked a few blocks for dinner and I really wished I had more time to explore. How is it that I am such a city person?
  
  
• The person I traveled with is a flaming extrovert and she talked ALL.THE.TIME! I was worn out by the time I got home. Convention alone is enough to be exhausting to an introvert like me but this was doubly exhausting.
  
  
• The weather was abominable Saturday. Heavy rain and high winds...I arrived home Saturday evening around 7 to a completely dark house--power had been out for two hours already. The Kid had lit a bunch of candles and gotten out flashlights (of which we always have too few that work!). We decided to go out to get something to eat since we were pretty sure that other areas had power and we were hoping that ours would be back on by the time we got back. But alas, it wasn't. And I was preaching on Sunday. And my sermon wasn't written. And I always preach from a text. And the Kid had used up what little battery power my laptop has watching a movie when the power first went out. I was more than a little tired and grumpy and trying not to panic. I lay down for a minute to think about what I wanted to preach on--I had done my prep work earlier in the week intending to write on Thursday, but life intervened as it as a way of doing and nothing was written down at all. I am so used to composing on the computer that I knew that I couldn't write out a whole sermon longhand at that time of night so I decided to make an outline. Of course I dozed off--laying down was a BAD idea--and woke up smelling the candles and thinking "omigosh I'm going to set the house on fire!" At least I woke up enough to get my notes written out--fairly detailed notes, but not a full text.
  
  
• The power finally came on around 12:30--right after I finished my work. And yay for turning back the clock because I sure needed that extra hour of sleep.
  
  
• The sermon turned out okay. I preached twice--at 8 and at 10 and I think the sermon at 8 was much better. That's one reason I like using a text--even though it won't be exactly the same preached at different services, it will be more consistent. But overall, I was pleased that I did as well as I did, and I received some good feedback.
  
  
• I saw "An Inconvenient Truth" last night; our church has been sponsoring screenings of it for the last week. It was a great presentation of the issues, but I guess I wasn't as surprised or shocked by it as some people have reported being. I do think it is a serious call to action that we need to take real heed of. My boss is really committed to our church taking the lead in this area in becoming "green". We'll see how it goes.
  
  
• Speaking of my boss, I have been loathe to say too much about work here although I have whined a bit more freely over at Phantom Scribbler's. But this last week has particularly made me crazy--can we say communication? Or rather, the lack thereof? I have been trying really hard to be a good team player and to let go of my particular control issues, but I am having a hard time here.
  
  
• I am thinking of doing this. Since I only post once or twice a week at this point, it would be a challenge for me. But I think I will do it.
  
  
• It's noon and I am still sitting here in my jammies. My days off seem to have a way of getting away from me. By the time I shower and get dressed and eat lunch the Kid will be home from school--because he has a ridiculous schedule--and I already know that he has a ton of work because he has two things that he SHOULD have done over the weekend and didn't--including making a "cell" costume for biology. We bought supplies for it yesterday--50 fricking dollars worth of supplies for it--so it better be good. I so wish he could get motivated to get his work done without all the last minute freakouts and late nights.
  

Random Bits of Monday

• The weather has been gorgeous as only fall weather can be the last few days. It has been cool, though, and the colors don't seem to be quite as bright as this time last year. Part of what I might be missing is the tree which some of you may recall fell on my house last spring. It had the brightest leaves around last fall.
  

• The national weather service is predicting a warm winter for the US, but the Farmer's Almanac is predicting a very cold snowy winter for the Northeast. Any bets on which is more accurate? I love snow; if we have to have winter it ought to be cold and snowy--that's one of the reasons I love living in New England. But not everyone shares my enthusiasm for snow.

• I had a very pleasant weekend. Besides good weather, my friend (and New Testament scholar) came to give two talks at the church. And she brought her doggies along for a visit--the dogs we took care of for a couple of weeks last summer. It was fun having them here for the weekend. I used to be nervous about having people stay at my house, but I am much more mellow about it now, and I enjoy having houseguests.
  

• We're thinking about getting a puppy--perhaps one of these. Goldendoodles (and Labradoodles) are so cute--and theoretically they are low/no shed. I love dogs and I loved having the dogs here this summer. But after having at least one child at home continuously for the last 31 years, there is a part of me that is reluctant to take on another creature that is going to be dependent on me. OTOH, dogs provide as close as unconditional love as you can get....except maybe from babies and I am definitely out of the baby business.
  

• NPR had a feature story this morning about "eating locally", focusing on a project in New Mexico that is trying to market and encourage locally grown meat and produce. A great idea, but what struck me as somewhat ironic was the underlying implication in the piece that this was something new and revolutionary. Isn't this how everyone used to eat?
  

• I'm nursing just a bit of a cold--I seem to have had it in stages: Thursday and Friday my throat was scratchy. Friday I developed a cough, and Saturday my voice was iffy. Yesterday morning my voice was better and the cough wasn't bad, but yesterday afternoon I got a bit stuffy, and I am still a bit stuffy today--not bad, just annoying. And I feel fine, for which I am grateful.

• I've never liked being sick, and it's hard for me to admit to being sick--most of the time a cold doesn't qualify. My mother says that I always said "I feel fine!" when I was a kid, even when I had a fever or was otherwise clearly indisposed. The only time (other than upset stomachs) that I recall really feeling sick as a child was when I had the measles--during summer vacation no less. I did feel pretty miserable then.

• I made some really yummy soup last week. I intended to make a recipe for sweet potato soup from the Moosewood Lowfat Cookbook but realized I was missing a couple of key ingredients. So I decided to improvise. I cooked onion in olive oil til it was tender and then added three peeled and cut up sweet potatoes, a cut up sweet red pepper and vegetable broth. Instead of the seasonings called for (which were southwestern) I added some curry powder, ginger and garam masala and cooked it til the potatoes were soft. Then I blended it til it was mostly smooth and blended in maybe a third of a cup of peanut butter. I added some frozen corn and simmered it for a few minutes. It was DELICIOUS. Now my goal is to recreate it--I didn't measure anything, but that is how I tend to cook anyway. I get good results, but sometimes it proves impossible to reproduce them.

• What is with BlogRolling anyway? I've only been using it for about 10 days, and 2 of those days it has marked EVERY blog as recently updated, and I'm pretty sure that isn't the case. Other days it doesn't mark all of the ones that ARE updated.
  

• I need to take some comp time at work--I've worked far too many hours on days off lately, but it is hard to find extra time to take off. (I wonder what it would feel like to have a job where you work eight hours and then go home and don't think about it again til the next day? Do those jobs exist? Would I be bored out of my mind?) And how annoying is it to have worked on my day off to meet a deadline only to find out that my boss completely blew the deadline off?
  

• I read and enjoy posts of random comments on lots of other blogs, but when I write one I still fear that it is going to bore everyone silly.
  

Blogiversary

Happy Blogiversary to me!

I started this blog a year ago today. I wasn't sure what to expect--what I'd write about, whether anyone would even come read or leave comments. A year later I would say that I haven't written everything I've wanted to. Often I have posts in my head, but I get busy and by the time I get to the computer they are gone, or too muddled to write. But I do feel like I have connected with an interesting community of bloggers more than I would have thought possible, and that is really, really nice. This community seems to be comprised of a perhaps unlikely mix of mommy blogs, academic blogs, and clergy/Episcopal blogs. I've only met one blogger f2f, but I hope to meet more. Edited to add: rereading this, I realize this isn't quite accurate, because there are at least two bloggers on my blogroll whom I knew before I--or they--started blogging.

I'm never sure whether what I choose to blog about will be incredibly boring to others or not. And I cannot predict which posts will get comments, but I've decided not to worry about it. I love taking pictures and posting those, but I don't want this to just be a photo blog. So perhaps in the next year I will spend more time writing. Or not. We'll see.

Name Game

As seen at profgrrrrl's place:

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 75 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

My first name, at least as I spell it, was not at all common when I was a kid, but I know that it has increased in popularity. But what really surprised me is that my last name is tied for the 23rd most popular last name. Wow. I am surprised because I NEVER run into anyone else with that last name.

I checked my mother's name: there are 559 people with her name. I am gobsmacked about that because her first name is not one you hear very often and it certainly doesn't make any top baby name lists. Very interesting....

Industry versus ecology

Today's New York Times has an alarming article about possible outcomes from the recent e.coli contamination of bagged spinach. Or perhaps I should say one alarming possible outcome with far reaching implications, and that is increased federal regulation of agriculture. I might, before reading this article, have seen this as desirable; after all we want to know that our food is handled properly and that we are as protected as possible from toxins in our food. But in fact such federal action could result in further hampering the ability of small farms selling locally to make a go of it.

The main point of this piece is that when agriculture became industrialized and industrial solutions to problems began to be implemented the long term effect was to create more problems that then require greater industrial intervention, until we end up with a system far removed from natural ecology. Feedlots for cattle were cited as an example of this, and in fact, some have speculated that the most virulent strain of e. coli we are dealing with now originated in feedlots where cattle are fed an unnatural diet supplemented by large doses of pharmaceuticals. When I lived in Florida I lived near such a feedlot and it was indeed a nasty place. It's not hard to see that the likelihood of contamination is greater in such a place than when animals are in a more natural environment. The increased regulation of meat packing plants that came about from the incidents of e. coli in ground beef a few years back has put many smaller meat packers out of business, meat packers who likely would have handled the locally grown grass fed cattle.

All of this demonstrates that bigger is not better, than an industrialized society while perhaps more efficient takes us farther and farther from what is natural, and that is a loss that seems hard to recoup. Sometime in the last year I vowed to try to eat more locally and more seasonally, but I haven't done very well. Part of it is my dislike of shopping and cooking--I end up with whatever is easiest. And that is the other component: where I live the supply of locally grown food is very very small (unless you count cranberries). There are a few farmer's markets open in the summer but their limited hours meant that I was never able to get to one. And our chain grocers do not carry local produce.

But I need to do better, even if it means that I drive an hour to get to the nearest Whole Foods. I know that they are not without problems, and perhaps I'm fooling myself to think that they are any better...but I don't know a better solution at this point.

On Being a Pacifist

I've considered myself a pacifist for a number of years now. I cannot tolerate violence, but more importantly I cannot see how fighting--war--solves anything in the long run. I'm neither a politically savvy person nor an historian, so I don't have a full repertoire of arguments to back my claim that pacifism is a better approach to the world, but I have been musing about why I feel so strongly about pacifism.

I'm the second of four children and while I don't consider myself to have been persecuted or mistreated as a child, there was a period of time when I was "picked on" by siblings on both sides. Most of my squabbles with my older sister were purely verbal, although she did haul off and sock me a good one occasionally. But my younger brother was quite physical, and I bore the marks to prove it--black and blue marks on my shins I remember in particular from the year that my brother wore heavy "work boots" every day. He must've been 7 or so, but he could kick hard, and those boots hurt! And he was always ready to punch whoever he happened to be unhappy with at the moment. My mother didn't like to intervene in our squabbles, believing rightly or wrongly that we would be better off to work it out on our own, and I can remember wailing plaintively to her about unfair it all was. "I can never get the last hit!" was my frustrated complaint, and it was true. No matter how hard or how often I hit my brother back, he would always come back at me. There was no end to it.

My parents believed in spanking for discipline. I wasn't spanked often, and I only remember being spanked by my mother, never by my father, but I remember again thinking how unfair it was that parents could hit children. And I'm not sure spanking ever had the desired effect on me, if the desired effect was to make me repentant for whatever my transgression was. I grew up swearing that I would never spank my kids, but it was hard not to, especially in the face of LOTS of criticism from my mother and sister for not disciplining my children properly. And I confess that I did swat the behinds of my kids out of frustration a few times--and felt absolutely awful afterwards. And realized yet again that responding aggressively is not a solution.

Neither of these experiences is really related to the subject of war, which is what pacifism is really aimed at for the most part. But they did sow the seeds for me, the belief that fighting back only encourages more fighting back, that aggression breeds more aggression, that the circle of aggression once started is difficult to break, and those notions are connected to war. But it took me a long time to put this all together and to articulate it. I grew up in the sixties when WWII was often the subject of movies and TV shows--both serious and comedic. War was romanticized, and besides, who could say that fighting the Germans in WWII was a bad thing?

I also grew up in the era of Martin Luther King,Jr. and witnessed as a child his example of non-violent resistance. But it wasn't until much later when I read as adult about his work, and about the work of Gandhi that I came to believe that non-violent resistance made a great deal of sense--far more sense that fighting back.

When the World Trade Center was attacked, I was incredibly sad, like everyone else. I knew that the world was changed, perhaps irrevocably. But in one way, my reaction was different from many others. I did not feel the need to seek revenge. I've thought about that a great deal, and I've realized that the lust for vengence seems to be missing in me. I don't say that to sound superior, just to note the fact that I don't seem to have the need to get back at people that seems so strong in others. And I don't see how making others suffer, killing others, really achieves justice (this is one of the reasons I am against the death penalty as well). What's more the notion that retribution should bring solace to victims' families is misplaced,and honestly not sound psychologically. So a war of retribution makes no sense to me either.

I was in seminary when the war in Iraq was launched, and we spent a great deal of time talking about just war theory and whether this war met the criteria as a "just war." But those arguments seem weak to me; how can we see any war as just?

The final piece of the puzzle, so to speak, fell into place for me when I heard someone say that pacifists don't have to justify pacifism by explaining how it would've prevented past wars. Often pacifists are asked if they would have refused to fight Hitler when Germany declared war, or refused to fight if they had known about the concentration camps and the slaughter of Jews.I don't know any pacifist who wouldn't have responded in some way to that situation. But in truth those are the wrong questions. The questions to ask are "at what point in history could things have been different so that the events that led to WWII (or WWI or any other war) would not have transpired. And even more importantly, what can we do to change world conditions to prevent future wars?"--because NOW is the time to do those things.

I don't believe that we should submit to terrorists. But I don't believe that war--especially the war we are engaged in in Iraq--is making us any safer from terrorism. On the contrary, this war has given terrorists new reason to fight. I think we should stop fighting in Iraq--and the sooner the better. Most of all, I think that we need to change our world view so that we no longer see war as an option. As the most powerful nation on earth we need to bring our considerable resources to bear on eradicating poverty and disease. We need to truly respect other religions and other cultures instead of expecting everyone to be like "us". Perhps we cannot end all wars immediately, but if we don't work to change the mindset of the worl, we shall surely destroy ourselves.

Perhaps this is all naive dribble, but it is what I believe.

Updated!

I had not updated the links in my sidebar in months, so today I spent a ridiculously long time making a blogroll and adding it to my sidebar--during which time 90% of my blog seemed to disappear, leading to great panic on my part. But somehow it reappeared after I quit working on it---I totally don't get it, but whatever....

I didn't mean to leave anyone off, so if you're not there and you want to be, email me.

Civic Duties

From the RevGalBlogPals, in honor of the fall election season:



1) How old were you when you voted for the first time?

It was 1972, and I was 19. IIRC, that was the first presidential election after the voting age was lowered from 21 to 18.

2) What was the contest at the top of the ballot?

President, and I voted for George McGovern. As an aside, Jimmy Carter was the first winning candidate I voted for, and he is still one of my heroes.

3) Can you walk to your polling place?

I could, I guess, if I had time. But it's not really convenient to walk.

4) Have you ever run for public office?

No. But when I was a kid I wanted to be a senator.

5) Have you run for office in a club or school or on a board?

In eighth grade, I ran for secretary of the student government. Of course I didn't win; if I got a dozen votes I was lucky. I was incredibly young and naive even for 8th grade....sigh....this is related to the content of a post that is lingering in my draft folder...

Weekend in the Woods

Our diocesean camp and confernce center is nestled deep in the woods on a lake in a state just to the north (yes, it is a bit odd that it's in another state). This weekend forty-five members of my church traveled there for our First Annual Parish Retreat. I am happy to report that a good time was had by all. (And this report is accompanied by more than a little relief on my part since I was in charge of planning this retreat, and much anxiety ensued as the time approached!)

The camp is a beautiful place--rustic enough to be charming and with enough amenitites to be comfortable. And the setting was perfect for an early fall weekend in New England. Although it rained both Friday and Sunday, Saturday was bright and sunny and brisk. We had a nice balance of program time and free time to enjoy the lake and the woods and the wonderful setting.

Saturday afternoon we saw an incredible rainbow.



It was neither the brightest nor the largest rainbow I've seen, but it was the only rainbow I've ever seen that was straight up over head and that did not approach the horizon on either end.

One of the great parts of this weekend was sharing time with people of all ages. Our group's ages ranged from 3 1/2 to 84. We had three couples in their 80s present. Two of these men were prisoners of war during WWII, and one of the women was an ambulance driver during the war, and they love to tell stories about their experiences. Saturday night we had a bonfire by the lake, and sang songs from just about every generation present.

As usual, I took lots of pictures and I'll leave you with just a few, taken Saturday afternoon during free time.

Wild Things

As we pulled into the driveway tonight, I caught sight of a furry critter off to the side, at the edge of the wooded area that separates the driveway from the church. I wasn't sure what it was so I slowed down and turned on my bright lights to see better. It was very furry, white on its back and darker below--yes, it was a skunk and a fairly large one at that.

In the just over a year that I've lived here I've seen a greater variety of wildlife thatn I 've seen in any other place I've lived--a fox, an oppossum, a snapping turtle, geese, rabbits, numerous birds (American goldfinches, purple finches, Baltimore Oriole, tufted titmouse, red bellied woodpecker, downy woodpecker, white breasted nuthatch, cardinals, blue jays, robins...) and of course the ubiquitous squirrels and chipmunks. I didnt' expect any of this when I moved here; while it is wooeded area adn lots are large, it is a heavily settled area.

This is the firest time I've seen a skunk, and I hope, honestly, that it doesn't become a fequent visitor!