Lemony Snicket's Bitter Truths

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You know, I don't get exciting mail very much anymore.  Well, minus the occasional surprises from a friend (which I always cherish) or a postcard from Starbucks that entitles me to a free drink on my birthday.  That rolls around only once-a-year, so you can see that my mail doesn't give me a whole lot to look forward to.  And I no longer have a subscription to Sports Illustrated, so double bummer. 

But then comes that one piece of mail every three months that I practically salivate over, waiting for it to arrive in my mailbox.  And then when I get it, it's like I can't read it fast enough.  My brain jumps into overdrive trying to comprehend what I'm reading, to take into my heart and my mind and allow it to be a catalyst for change.

I take notes and underline things and then spend the next week contemplating the articles, hashing them out with friends, writing my own thoughts in response to the concepts and principles shared. 

Comment, you are my very favorite piece of consistent mail. I love your layout.  I love the way the pages feel in my hands. I love that your photos are in black and white.  I love your simplicity.  I love your robust look at faith, and art, and music, and literature, and politics, and why it's good to make a better burger.  I love that you foster this idea of embracing all of life as a Christian, not just parts of life.  I love that you compel me to think differently about the city in which I live.  I love that you challenge me to ask the big questions, the hard questions, the ones I'm sometimes afraid to ask for fear no one else is asking the same thing or has an answer.

 And this latest issue seemed to speak to so many of the thoughts I have bouncing around in my head.  I think I said "yes!" to myself after every article, my mind in agreement with concepts and ideas, even if some of those things are what I merely long to put into practice rather than presently doing.  

"Christians should be doing things that are healing and redemptive rather than saying Jesus will take care of it.  That doesn't let us off the hook."  Yes! 

"Loving your neighbor requires attention to the nature of your activity in a particular place, year after year.  If young people use neighborhoods only as sleeping quarters and playgrounds, they will do harm to the neighborhood."   Yes! (And as I consider the idea of finding a new place to live, this particuarly speaks to me now.) 

"It can be difficult to remember that we are creative people called to faithfully live out unique callings - which may or may not conform to the local flavor."  Yes!

"Creating good food and welcoming tables speaks to the deepest parts of our being.  We are created to live artfully in daily life, to need real food to nourish our bodies, to have tables at which to belong, and to have stopping places where we can know and be known.  Cooking matters because people matter.  Feeding the hungry and welcoming the stranger are signposts of the Christian life."  I don't cook a whole lot, but yes!

"I return to Frederick Buechner's quote, 'The place where God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.' Since the world's deep hunger is present everywhere, why not focus on finding your great gladness?  By this I don't mean, 'why not just live for pleasure,' but what do you already know about what you love?  Can you make beauty?  Then be an artist.  Do you love to read?  Then study literature."  Double yes!

So, thank you, Comment, for entering my little corner of the world (and to Travis for introducing me to it).  

I can't wait for your next issue.   

When You're the Best of Friends...

"When you're the best of friends,
Having so much fun together,
You're not even aware, you're such a funny pair.
You're the best of friends."

My nephew just turned three in October.  He might as well speak Dutch because I can't understand him half the time.  Sounds and syllables never quite come out like they should and most of the time you have to ask him to repeat himself at least three times before it dawns on you what he's saying.  Or you just smile and nod and he goes on his merry way. 
 
If there was ever a little boy, it's Rocco, for he is surely all boy.  I don't think I've ever met a kid who likes to wrestle as much as he does.  And it doesn't matter who.  He's convinced, I think, that he can knock my dad over and take him out with one punch to the belly.  The other day we were playing around and he asked me if I wanted to wrestle.  My mom overheard him and she half-jokingly said, "Now, Rocco - there's no wrestling in this house."  He then proceeds to get the saddest face you have ever seen, sticks his lip out, looks like he's about to cry, walks over to the couch and says, "Ohhhhh, man!" He then flings himself down on the couch, with his nose stuck in the cushions, acting like it's the end of the world.  I had to work so hard at stifling my laughter. 
 
But the other day was probably the most precious moment I've ever had with him.  We were waiting on the extended family to arrive to celebrate Christmas (we do it a week early so that we have half-a-chance of actually getting everybody in one location on the same day).  So, to kill time we decide to build a tent, using the back of the couch and the living room railing as our means of support.  I fling a blanket over top of everything, hang another small blanket on the side so we could have a door, and voila! a tent.  We crawl underneath and stuff some pillows in so we can lay down.  Rocco's laying (lying? Sorry, Mrs. Faulk, I can still never remember the difference despite your best efforts in 7th and 8th grade English) next to me and we're just real quiet for a moment.  And then he rolls over to look at me and touches me on the arm, saying so sincerely, with his big brown eyes fixed on mine:
 
"Tortney, you're my vwery best fwend."
 
Nearly made me cry my eyes out right there.  The most precious thing I've encountered in awhile.  
 
But the moment was quickly forgotten in his mind as people began streaming in the door.  
 
But not for me.  It's one I'll cherish for a long time to come.

Dear Blank Please Blank

I am slightly obsessed with a new-to-me website that my cousin told me about.  It's a general time-waster, but man, it's funny.  It's called "Dear Blank Please Blank" and people can submit little one-liners that are written to whomever, followed by "please _________," followed by a closing of some kind.  I think the site is hysterical and I check it frequently, especially when I need a laugh.  I present to you some of my favorites:

Dear Scholarship Application Requirements,

So, in the off-chance that I'm not a blind, left-handed, Lebanese-Inuit majoring in Sustainable Pear Farming, how should I pay for college?

Sincerely, 99.9% of the Population.

Dear Prince Charming,

Who wants a castle when you could have a whole new world?

Sincerely, Aladdin.

Dear Little Miss Muffet,

What the heck is a 'tuffet?'

Sincerely, Little Children around the World.

Dear school spirit week,

I swear I'm not the only decade.

Sincerely, the 80's.

Dear Google,

Please 'auto-complete' my thesis.

Sincerely, Grad Student.

Dear Graffiti Artist,

How in the world did you get up there?

Sincerely, Confused.

Dear Noah,

We could have sworn you said the ark wasn't leaving till 5.

Sincerely, Unicorns.

Enjoy.  And make up a few of your own along the way.  :)

Scraps of Moments

Sometimes you need some reminders that life is funny.  And sometimes you need to be inspired.  And sometimes you just need to remember.

I keep a notebook for that.  

I started it several years ago and it is now one of my favorite things I own.  It started out as a means to consolidate all of these scraps of magazines and newspapers I had lying (laying?  I still never remember which to use) around my dorm room and eventual apartment.  It's this hodge-podge of things that have captured my imagination or attention over the years.   Some of the clippings make me laugh - I pull those out when I need to do just that.  Some of the clippings remind me of significant historical moments, ones I don't want to forget.  Some clippings are just creative and clever ideas I have saved for my some-day house, things to lock away for future use.  Most items are just headlines cut out of magazines, or photographs I find compelling.  On the front cover I put a quote that I snagged from a magazine, which said, "I surround myself with things I love, anything that inspires me."  It's my collection of things I love and things that inspire me.   

  

There's the one that makes me laugh every time without fail, the one on the left here.  It's a picture of a little black pug and the caption reads, "I enjoy licking faces.  And toilets."  Another page has a clipping from Sports Illustrated, when they interviewed Olympic hurdler, Jana Rawlinson, on why she she had her breast implants removed.  She said, "I absolutely loved having bigger boobs, but I don't want to shortchange Australia either."  I mean, come on.  That's funny. 

Then I've got newspaper clippings, ones about the 2008 election and how Sarah Palin obliterated the "feminist template," how the "Buckeyes unite their faithful like no other team,"  and 'Do ladies love country boys? Not if they're undereducated."  Those things that inspire, make me ask questions.   

Then there's the "stay baseball" ad.  I don't even like baseball, but I like this ad.  It says, "Stay baseball.  Stay our favorite pastime.  Stay the best part of a lazy summer day, or a tense October night.  Stay the bonding experience of choice for dads and kids across the country.  Stay obsessively statistical.  And incredibly poetic.  Stay baseball."  I can appreciate it for what it's ultimately saying even if I can't say much for the game itself.  I also sometimes pull out entire spreads of magazines, the photographs that capture a brief moment in time.  The one on the right is when Zenyatta won the Breeders' Cup Classic in 2009.  I felt like it was such a quinessential moment, with Mike Smith opening his arms up to the heavens, photographers waiting to capture the emotion.   

I like pulling out my notebook when I need a good laugh, when I'm feeling nostalgic and need to remember.  Tonight was one of those nights, no particular reason - and it just felt good to laugh.    And then I'm left to wonder why I'm silly enough to save clippings that say things like "I just want to be me.  Without the hot flashes."  ;)

Adventures in Disappointment

You ever have those adventures where you've got your hopes up so high and then you get to wherever it is you're going only to be disappointed?  I had one of those adventures today.  But as I've learned through life, you learn to make the most of the situation and try to figure out a way to redeem it.  It usually involves a lot of silliness.

Case in point - I had nothing on the agenda for the weekend but really didn't want to sit around either and do nothing.  So I texted my cousin to see what he was up to.  Nothing.  Awesome.  Glad we're in the same boat.  What do you want to do?  I don't care, whatever you want to do.  Statehouse tour?  Christmas shopping?  Tour of local caverns? (I almost wrote taverns - that probably would have been just as exciting.)  I don't care, you pick.  You're no help.  I have a coupon for the caverns, let's go there.  Awesome.  See you in the morning.

So we roll out of bed and get ready to go on our little adventure up to Olentangy Indian Caverns, about 20 minutes from where I live.  On the car ride up, while listening to Taylor Swift's new CD (my choice), we discuss the merits of her music and try to determine whether she can actually sing.  We have no solid conclusion to that discussion, other than the fact that Taylor gets bonus points for writing her own music. 

As we get closer to the caverns, we're taking bets that we will be the only people there on a cold Saturday in November.  We were pleasantly surprised to find about 5 cars in the parking lot, better than nothing.  We grab our tickets and head underground.  We've got our handy dandy map and I look like I'm about ready to climb Everest.  I've got a ski cap on, my quilted jacket, a polar fleece coat under that, a long sleeve t-shirt under that, mittens, and snow boots on.  Hey, I get cold easily.  I know to be prepared.  So even though I look like an eskimo to the rest of the world, I'm quite comfortable.

We trudge down the stairs into the cave, pushing the buttons along the way that give audio recordings explaining this, that, and the other.  We follow the map to the first room.  Basically stand in one point spot, turn in a circle, and that's about it.  So maybe you're 150 feet below ground at this point and the ceiling is about 50 feet high.  Cool. Okay, next room.  Skinny Man's Squeeze where we find Indian Lover's Bench (no joke - that's what it's called on the map).  And yes, it's skinny.  Even I had to turn sideways to make it up there.  End of that room.  Next.  Turn in a circle, go up a few walkways and we're done.  Next.  A stalactite that looks like a beehive.  Hmm. Could have fooled me.  Crystal Room?  Uh, you might you want to give it a different name because I'm pretty sure these look nothing like crystals to me.  Looks more like moss.  Chief Leatherlips' profile in the rock?  Your guess is as good as mine.  I think maybe this is his nose and those are his eyes.  Or maybe this is his forehead and that's his nose?  Wait, if you stand here I think I see an elephant.   

Twenty minutes later we're wondering if we read the map wrong and somehow missed half of the cave because there's no way we can be done.  

But we were.  And then we were invaded by a Boy Scout troop and we decided to exit stage left.  

So now what?  We drove all the way up here and we've seen it all in less than 30 minutes.  Disappointment was setting in.  Is it possible to be disillusioned with a cave?

What do you do when all else fails? Picture time!  This is when silliness sets in, shortly after you learn to let go of your disappointment.  We trounced around the cave looking for the next great photo op.  But try finding a flat surface in a cave that isn't covered with dripping water or moss so that you put your camera on self-timer.  Not easy.  So we walked back through all the rooms again wondering we where we could snap our next Kodak moment.  Some photos I felt like we were shooting really cheesy senior photos, only underground.  But then we got to laughing so hard we didn't care.  After awhile we decided we could no longer delay our return to the surface because there was literally nothing else left for us to do.  Only so many photos can be taken.

By the time we got to the top of the 3 flights of stairs, we were both breathing so hard and our legs were burning so bad that we had to take a pit stop and gulp in air, right next to the life-size wooden Indian, of course.  (I have never claimed to work out regularly or do any form of exercise.  It clearly showed today.)  We made it back to the car and where we decided we had no Plan B by which we could redeem the day.  So we drove home, watched Ohio State's game and decided that we were glad we had a coupon for buy one get one free because I'm sad to say, Olentangy Indian Caverns isn't worth the $8.50 they charge.  

But I did get a smashed penny out of the deal.  :) 

Rafiki Update

I was excited to receive word from both the Village Director and the ChildCare Director about some recent happenings in the village.  There are moments that catch me by surprise, when I wake up in the morning maybe or when I'm at work and I see a picture of Glen and I suddenly get wistful, missing Kenya and the children like crazy.  I miss Elijah and tutoring him every day.  I miss Kate saying "super cute" in nearly every other sentence (even though the phrase does drive me slightly crazy now to hear it).  There are a lot of things I miss, but I know life goes on and I know the children are doing well and I know God is continuing to do a work there. 

From the Village Director:
Thank you very much for all the photos you have sent.  They are great!  I shall print them off for the children and into their picture books.  You may already know that we now have 96 resident children - 48 boys and 48 girls.  Four new children came "home" from Kitui early this month.  Hopefully, before month-end, the 97th "son" will come home too.  We are asking the Lord to bring us another "son" and another two "daughters".  If He permits it before the end of the year, then we will be 100.  A nice figure to work with - 50 sons and 50 daughters.

From the ChildCare Director:
On Tuesday, three days after we returned (They had been in the States), twelve-year-old Charles broke both of the bones in his left arm just above the wrist. On the way to Gertrude’s Children’s Hospital, a bus side swiped our Village director’s car in which Patty, Charles, and Rafiki Mother Lydia were traveling but it didn’t delay them too long because the local police station was less than 100 yards away. Once at the hospital, the staff took great care of Charles. A theater, anesthesiologist, and orthopedic surgeon all became available for Charles’ three and a half hour surgery at 8 P.M. For those of you who are not familiar with British English, when you’re in a hospital, a theater is an operating room, not a place of entertainment. There was no joy in the break in Charles’ arm but we’re very happy to have good medical care available here in Kenya.

Wednesday evening Rafiki Pediatrician, Dr. Elaine Tan, and Nurse Liz Prince arrived at Rafiki. It’s a huge blessing for us to have them here to do yearly physicals for the children. In addition to tablets, ointments, and syrups, Dr. Tan dispenses smiles, hugs, and encouragement to follow God’s Word.

They ask prayer for:

Patience as we wait on the government for income-tax exemption, the school registration certificate, and our charitable children’s institution certificate.


• Wisdom for the Home Office as they evaluate bids for construction of the senior secondary school.

• Funds to be available to confirm building of the first residence hall.

• God to bring us a social worker, two teachers, and a Rafiki Mother-in-training.

• Court committals and birth certificates for the new children who have come.

• God to direct us to two more orphaned girls and one more orphaned boy to make a full complement of 100 resident children by the end of the year.

• Health and safety for everyone at Rafiki Village Kenya.

• Wisdom and discernment for leading well.

• Consistent supply of water and electricity.

• God’s provision for our next term which begins January 1, 2011.

Single Today

I really appreciated this quote that my sweet friend Emily sent my way from a book she is currently reading:

"Ultimately we are single because that's God's will for us right now.  That's it.  It's not because we are too old, too fat, too skinny, too tall, too short, too quiet, too loud, too smart, too simple, too demanding, or too anything else.  It's not wholly because of past failures or sin tendencies.  It's not because we're of one race when many of the men around us are of another.  It's not because the men we know lean toward passive temperaments.  It's not because there are more women than men in our singles group.  It's not because our church doesn't even have a singles group.  Though perhaps these all feel like valid reasons, they don't trump God's will.  One look at the marriages we know or the announcements in the newspaper will assure us that these factors are present in many people's lives and they still got married.  We are single today because God apportioned us this gift today." 

- Carolyn McCulley

Taking Bets

"All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible. This I did."  - T.E. Lawrence

I'd say year 25 was all about crossing a few things off the bucket list and crossing off a few things that were never on the bucket list to begin with.  I've been thinking a lot about what has happened in the last year, expected things, unexpected things, but always an adventure.  It was all about being a dreamer of the day, acting on dreams with open eyes.  This I did. 

I've always had it on my bucket list to own a Great Dane.  Well, that didn't happen but I did get to meet Tucker the Great Dane.  That will have to suffice for now since I don't foresee owning 80 acres anytime soon to accommodate owning such an animal.  My dad thinks I should just skip the Great Dane and buy a horse.   It's the same thing to him.

And then I got to watch one of my very best friends marry the Future Husband she had written about for years and in the process I got to meet one of my favorite authors at her wedding.  It was sweet to watch Erica throughout this process, seeing the crazy days, the good days, and the days when she would e-mail me in a panic about how to insert an anchor JPEG into her invitation.  I always love being a part of people's weddings and this was the year for quite a few.  I also got to see Steph get married, and numerous other friends have since gotten engaged.  I celebrate with them in those moments.

I welcomed a new niece into the world, which wasn't so much on the bucket list (like I have control over that) as it was just a fitting moment in life.  I sold some of my paintings (Thank you, Debbie S., for supporting the arts and my then-grocery budget).  I read a grand total of 45 books since last October.  That's not one of my life's aims, but I started keeping a log a year ago May of every book I have since read and I went over my list last night just to jog my memory on some of my favorites that I had read in the past year.  I capped off year 25 by finishing up Susan Casey's The Wave, which was a fantastic read.  I am now fascinated by all things surfing.  I just have no desire to add to my list "surf the world's biggest wave."  But maybe I'll add to the list "sit on the beach in Hawaii and watch someone else surf big waves." 

After that was a trip I had dreamed about since I was a kid.  Africa.  I don't need to elaborate on this one I think since I chronicled so much of that adventure on here.  But that trip was so worth it.  Even this morning, I woke up missing those kids, in particular, little David.  For some reason his sweet face popped into my head and I got a little sad about not being able to see him anytime soon.  But I know I'll go back some day.  I don't know when that will be, but I'm determined to make it happen.                                                                     

In between, I finished my MBA.  That was one of those things that wasn't on the list.  I had no intention of ever going to grad school, but away we went.  I got to laughing the other day because I pulled out my notebook where I write down the list of things I want to do in my lifetime.  I had on there "graduate from high school" and "graduate from college."  Check and check.  Just didn't have on there anything about grad school.  So that was a bonus for the year.   

 But I guess I couldn't have picked a better way to end year 25 when my brother told me he bought me tickets to the Ohio State vs. Indiana game this past weekend. I know, I know.  I had felt like I was committing some kind of crime by having lived in Ohio all my life and having never been to an OSU game at The 'Shoe.  I was waiting for the police to show up on my doorstep.  I loved everything about the game, about the traditions, about the stadium, about the Skull session, even the crazy Indiana fan sitting next to us who I thought was going to burst a blood vessel.  To top it off, it was Jim Tressel's 100th win. (Thank you, South Carolina, for bringing down Alabama - that certainly helped to catapult OSU to #1 in the country.)

So, yeah, year 25 was pretty great.  But I'm taking bets that year 26 will be better.  God has shown him faithful in numerous ways, both big and small.  And it's not to say that the best years are always sunshine and roses, for they are surely tempered with a few storms.  But I don't ever want to be the kind of person that says the best years of my life are behind me.  I think I'll tackle "own a hammock" and "spend a week or two on a dude ranch" for this year.  And who knows what will be unexpectedly added to the list. 

Why Can't They Last?

There are some stories I don't ever want to end.  I felt that way about Lord of the Rings.  I felt that way about A Severe Mercy and Seabiscuit.  I almost felt that way about the Twilight Saga until one of the characters started drinking blood to keep her half-vampire baby alive in her womb.  In fact, I get rather annoyed when some of my favorite stories end.  There's just such a sense of let-down.  I feel this sense of dread as I near the final page because I know it's all about to be over and I can't do a thing about it.  Most of the stories that I feel this way about are the ones that are so epic in nature - the ones that captive both the mind and the heart, the ones that elevate you beyond where you presently are.

I just put down Secretariat:  The Making of a Champion  by William Nack and I nearly wanted to cry when I finished it because it's just such a beautiful and inspiring story and I was so sad it came to a close.  I know, I know.  It's just a horse.  I get it.  Just like the Michigan-Ohio State game is just another football game and Mother Theresa is just another woman.  But to anybody who watches that kind of history unfold knows it's never just another horse race and it's never just another horse.  I wanted to stand up and cheer just reading the darn thing.  I wanted to yell along with everyone else when Secretariat set blistering records in each of his Triple Crown races.  I mean, good grief, the horse ran each eighth of the Kentucky Derby successively faster and faster, which is just mind boggling because the times should get successively slower, not faster.  He won the Belmont by a stunning 31 lengths.  The horse was a maniac. 

When he died - 21 years ago tomorrow - they did an autopsy on him and found that his heart was twice as big as a normal thoroughbred, which meant he could pump far more oxygen into his bloodstream, giving him a competitive edge that other breeders could only dream of developing in their horses.  His offspring weren't much to brag about, with only a few garnering serious accolades - none would come close to accomplishing what their daddy had. 

But I guess the really great stories have to come to an end sometime.  At least until another comes along.



"Do you give the horse his strength or clothe his neck with a flowing mane?  Do you make him leap like a locust, striking terror with his proud snorting? He paws fiercely, rejoicing in his strength, and charges into the fray. He laughs at fear, afraid of nothing; he does not shy away from the sword. The quiver rattles against his side, along with the flashing spear and lance. In frenzied excitement he eats up the ground; he cannot stand still when the trumpet sounds. At the blast of the trumpet he snorts, 'Aha!'  He catches the scent of battle from afar, the shout of commanders and the battle cry."
- portion of Job 39