Beastly Busy

This week somehow went from look very nice and orderly on paper to mayhem and mess in real time. I have a hundred things to write about, but there are always dishes to be done, books to read, e-mails to write, snow to play in … Blogging just hasn’t made into my daily rhythms. Maybe that’s a good thing.

Last night and into today, I’ve felt agitated and squirmy, wrestling with this problem: how does one fuse a strong  pursuit of excellence and achievement with peaceful rest and time to just be? Madeleine L’Engle has always been an encouragement in this, but lately, it’s been an ever-present tension for me.

Anyhow, I have 1 more lesson and 1 more cup of chamomile tea to finish. 6 hours until I hurl my alarm clock against the wall.

And yes, if you’ve been on twitter or facebook, I do have a black eye and it’s from a clothesline. Story to follow …

Yikes.

Clearly, I have been slacking the blogging department. Facebook has been my only outlet to the world for the last few months, which, as I reflect, is quite depressing. Hopefully, I can conjure up a bit more than a 15 word change in status.

To try to get you up to speed on the last 5 months seems exhausting, so let’s just begin with 2009.

I spent the first day of January in a van, very full of human bodies and their luggage, driving from Chicago to Philadelphia. There were some tricky riddles told, a lot of sleeping, a bit of crazy driving, and some super hold-your-breath-through-the-tunnel competitions. All in all, an excellent beginning to a new year (the last days of December in Chicago were a pretty splendid way to cap off 2008, too).

After such an illustrious (and tiring) beginning, I took a lot of naps. I also began getting back into ceramics, courtesy of an old art teacher, in her nice warm studio – since my barn studio is a bit frigid at present. Throwing a couple times per week, as well as the opportunity to work with some of the ceramics classes there, has been delightful.

I also have been doing some letter-writing, coupled with card-making. There may not be anything better than spending an afternoon sitting by the wood-stove, cutting and gluing, and writing to old friends. Except, of course, walking into town in the sunshine to mail said letters and swinging by the library to pick up new books.

Speaking of old hobbies, I’ve also taken up knitting again. I long considered myself a die-hard crocheter, but have had a change of heart, mostly due to an adorable mitten pattern. The mittens haven’t happened yet – but soon, soon!

February, so far, has brought the beginnings of Pennsylvania spring mud and a trip to Pittsburgh for the Jubilee conference. The last time I was in Pittsburgh was for the 2002 (?) Level 7 State Gymnastics Championships. My memories of that weekend are as follows: doing Mad-Libs with Dana all the way there (and eating twizzlers), having a broken toe and a few stress fractures in both ankles, and reading Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis.

Fortunately, this time around there were no broken bones or twizzler-consumption; suffice to say, it was an excellent weekend, and I came away quite stuffed with goodness and inspiration. There was a point at which we were hopelessly lost at 2 am, but that’s probably best left unmentioned.

So there you have it. Next time … next time, I promise to post something (relatively) soon with a bit more substance. I attribute much of my lack of bloggage to being a perfectionist; sometimes, or quite often, my personal expectations for consistent excellence and wit backfires mightily. Thus, I present sucky blog post #1 for 2009! 

Things can only get better from here.

The latest reading.

I’m on the third chapter, wishing I was further along. Two tests and a paper this week have slowed me down a bit. The schedule and deadlines that come along with most sorts of schooling are beginning to aggravate me, especially when there are so many good books (that don’t involve human anatomy) out there just waiting to be appreciated. Also, this lovely fall weather: it seems such a crime to be inside.

The first two chapters, Rethinking Thinking and Schooling the Imagination, have left me in deep appreciation of my parents and all of their efforts to encourage, rather than stifle, imagination and thinking. It also goes along nicely with my psychology class, as we’re studying brain functions etc. If we were honest, I’d be getting credit for neurology and not psych, but ah well.

I’ve gotten slogged down enough in studying and homework this week that, when I have an empty hour, all I wish for is Mindless Things (also known as the devil, or television). Sketchbook and pens are looking lonely, the books on the shelf are awfully forlorn, and my journal … the pile of textbooks on top of it may be indicative of its disuse. 

Here’s to getting back into the real swing of things.

Do you concur?

I stumbled across this last night and couldn’t resist …
 

A man should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently and die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

- Robert Heilein

 

Better bloggage soon to come. Today however is dedicated to study of the integumentary system and all its wonders as well as piles of laundry and other sundry must-be-dones.

Watermelon Days

There’s a watermelon sitting on the kitchen counter and, I kid you not, it’s a good two feet long. It’ll probably be gone by tomorrow morning considering the way people inhale it around here. The weather has been unbelievably beautiful in the last weeks. Being inside all day at work was felt criminal. I could walk all day in the glorious sunshine we’ve had.

I’m splitting my attentions between studying for an Anatomy & Physiology quiz, watching the Republican National Convention, and blogging. Yes, multi-tasking is surely what I do best.

I have no desire to write about politics, mostly because I don’t feel educated enough, but Sarah Palin’s nomination just made things really interesting.

School is going very well. This sort of learning, much more scientific and left-brained than I’m accustomed to, is a challenge to acclimate to. Studying for quizzes and tests is difficult; I really don’t have any idea what to expect. But it seems like the sort of thing that improves with time and experience, so sticking to it is the best course of action, I guess.

Last week, I found out there’s a girl in two of my classes who speaks Russian! She’s from Belarus and has lived in the US for several years. It’s such a thrill to talk every morning before classes begin. What a wonderful gift to be able to continue speaking Russian bit by bit.

I’m still on a Wendell Berry kick, but just got entrenched in War is a Force that Gives Us Meaning. Agh! So many books, so little time. 

I leave you with this — a little bit of Wendell to end the night with a quiet bang of truth:

Ask the world to reveal its quietude—
not the silence of machines when they are still,
but the true quiet by which birdsongs,
trees, bellworts, snails, clouds, storms
become what they are, and are nothing else.

Something you might like to know

August has been so fantastic that, as you can see, blogging was relegated to the back burner … and then fell off, got stuck behind the stove, and is only now being hauled back out and dusted.

It’s been an month of up and down, certainly. But that wise old Oswald Chambers said, “faith by its very nature must be tried.”

I’m exhausted and everything I write comes out sounding pompous tonight, so here’s the Announcement, after which I will retire in haste.

Tuesday was the official beginning of New Direction. My first of day of nursing school came and went. And yes, you did hear that correctly! Send me a flabbergasted e-mail and I promise to give my best shot at a well-thought out response. For now, take my word for it: it wasn’t the answer I’d been looking for, wasn’t the easiest choice, and I’m still second-guessing it. However, it’s excellent in close to every way and sits just right with my gut (which I’m still learning to trust).

Tomorrow begins two more classes, neither of which I’m feeling very intrepid about. Math and I just haven’t hit off well … ever. But I’m convinced it can be tackled with excellence – though I’m also sure there will be tears involved at some point in time.

Anyway, that’s a quick and messy summary of my life: school is exciting; job is great; health is better; community is precious and sweet; too many good books to read, as always.

I’ve had a sense of being super-blessed lately. Just lots of amazing Things all coming together, both in my head and heart as well as in friends-life-bank account-everything. Tuesday, I took all afternoon to sit out on the hill in the sunshine and start a new notebook. A goody book, as Madeleine L’Engle calls it. The kind that’s waiting to be filled with quotes, inspiration, goals, and jumbles of thoughts. It was fulfilling to both sides of me: the pragmatist and the dreamer. It’s so good to dream, to capture those pages of hopes and visions for my life. It’s also intensely satisfying to sit down and formulate specific goals.

Somewhere way back up there, I mentioned going to bed. Since you now know how I coddle my inner pragmatist and are aware I’m going to nursing school, I guess it’s good night, with promises for better things soon.

Getting mail from an old you

Before leaving Russia, I mailed 6 packages home. Books, dictionaries, 10 months worth of notes from classes. All the heavy stuff that would have had me paying ridiculous amounts of money in various airports. At the post office, the woman told me, with a totally straight face, that they would arrive in the states in about a month. I contained my laughter until I made it out the door and had serious doubts about ever seeing my beloved 501 Russian Verbs book again. But apparently they got their act together – I’ve received 3 packages in the last 4 days. Faithfulness in the least expected places, I tell ya.

Flipping through my notes and text books brings a strange wash of emotions. Once upon a time, I wrote my grocery list in Russian, just because I wanted to. Here, on my desk, are hundreds of pages covered in a different language. It’s mind-boggling to remember I would go for days without speaking English. The thought is unfathomable now.

Fighting the “my life exists in a toilet bowl” thoughts has been a Thing this week. I have lots of purpose, sense and calling, schemes, dreams … they’re just not arriving as quickly as I’d like them to. Or I’m unsure of how to make my way towards them. What is the means to my end, anyway?

As always, the questions come quickly and effortlessly; answers, considerably less so.

And now, to lighten the mood …

A brief refresher
Chocolate: the best, no matter what other atrocious things are in it
Vanilla: bland but edible
Strawberry: full of chunks of fake fruit that proceed to squirm between your teeth and stay there for eternity

My life, according to ice cream:

Watching Lars and the Real Girl … cinematic perfection in every subtle way.
Successfully hemming jeans so they actually fit.
Getting packages from myself.
My sister coming home from London.
Having a sinus infection in August (why?!?!).
Cutting off my hair. Bahhhhh … I … am going … to learn to like it … again.
Blowing my nose constantly; my most attractive trait.
 Lots of miscellaneous creative activities.
Potential situation of employment.
Having a beautiful red motorcycle helmet and jacket in my possession and no bike on which to ride.
Having a car that runs.
Soft kleenex and honey-lemon tea.
Being cell-phone-less.
Crickets outside my window.
 

And we conclude: I have tons to be grateful for, lots that’s perfectly tolerable, very little that’s worth whining about. Hmph. Humbling.

Constructive creativity

Today I put on my old raggy jeans and a dirty t-shirt, armed myself with music from The Idan Raichel Project, and skipped out to the studio. My first time digging into clay in 10+ months and I’ve got to say, there’s nothing like coming in for dinner at 6 pm with porcelain under every nail.

I like the feeling of accomplishment and the main point of writing tonight is so I can wallow in knowing I did a little more than read a book today. I tackled laundry and unpacking from the trip, was responsible and wrote a billion e-mails, began to tack things up in my room and make it a prettier (if not larger) monk’s cell, mowed the pastures, and spent a few hours out potting. 

Solitude is still agreeing with me. I’m charging my social batteries up for this weekend, I suppose.

A puzzling thought came to me as I filled up glasses of ice water for dinner. Our ice machine in the freezer makes hollow ice cubs. How do you draw a hollow ice cube? I considered it, but eventually went with dandelions for an evening sketch instead.

As you’ll see from the pictures below, there’s a ton of zucchini inhabiting the refrigerator. I actually have a recipe for zucchini chocolate chip cookies, but somehow can’t bring myself to do the deed: it’s just too weird. But then again, we have to eat it one way or another, and I’d rather have mine with chocolate chips, thank you very much.

Agh! What do you do with this much zuchini?

Poker face

I’m not a cat person, but they never fail to amuse

Clearly hard at work in the studio

Coldplay all day (and the reason I’m fond of long car rides).

As hard as I’ve tried (trust me, very hard) to ruin the new Coldplay album by overplaying, it hasn’t happened yet. I introduced my mom and sister to it today on the tremendously long car ride home and it kept playing and playing. Lost track somewhere along the way, but I’d say it was on repeat for at least 3 hours. Now that I think about it, it seems kind of gross. We even put it back in after going through a Father Indie mix, a Disney mix, and some Sufjan. But am I sick of it? No way.

I didn’t get nearly as many pictures at the party as I’d hoped; I was playing barmaid for most of the night, which turned out to be highly entertaining and a great way to meet my grandparents’ friends without extended awkward conversation. By the way, my grandmother and I had a bet ($5) that someone would/wouldn’t ask the great grandchild question. I actually lost, but she didn’t tip me for my wine-pouring skills either, so we called it even.

If I could, I’d make sure to take a road trip with somebody different every year. The varied conversations that come out of scenic landscapes, tailgaters, various red lights on the dashboard, silly word games, the latest Drive mix … they never fail to delight. Chatting with my mom on the way to Michigan and back was plain old fun, especially when we made her go through the whole How She and Dad Met story.

Being home is getting stranger. Maybe it’s slowly sinking in that I’m not just back for a visit. The thought of going back to college makes me squirm, the thought of being a bum scares me more. I’m finding it difficult to concentrate; interacting with a large group of people is still completely overwhelming and I find I’m happiest and least self-conscious when with a single person and no pressure to talk. Give it time, yeah yeah. When someone asks the What Are You Going To Do Next question, sensations of being a small bug with a magnifying glass between itself and the bright sun creep over me.

Bah! At least there’s Coldplay, right? It’s always odd what we find comfort in.

“There’s nothing terribly wrong with feeling lost, so long as that feeling precedes some plan on your part to actually do something about it. Too often a person grows complacent with their disillusionment, perpetually wearing their discomfort like a favorite shirt.”
- Jhonen Vasquez

I’m afraid I’m sporting a dirty shirt of disillusionment.

Umqombothi (African beer)

I recently came into some music, mostly of the World variety. Tonight, as the Hotel Rwanda soundtrack failed to lull me asleep, I noticed the name of the song playing. Umqombothi. What can one do with such terrific words but google them? If you have nothing better to do, try it out on Wikipedia and be proud of yourself for learning something new and of moderate interest.

Speaking of Wikipedia, I’ve lately made it a personal quest to read one article per day. This augments my routine of late, breaking it up a bit, as in: get up; eat breakfast while reading a book, National Review, or the Atlantic; find a patch of sunshine, read a book; eat lunch, usually while reading; spend some time reading online … and so on. I go for walks and watch movies from Netflix (seen two excellent Iranian films recently). It’s a nice rhythm to be in. I’m not sure I could stand it for an extended period of time, but it’s still less than 3 weeks since I’ve been home (hard to believe).

Tomorrow, it’s off to Michigan for the grandparents’ 50th anniversary shindig. I have high hopes for some nice photo opportunities; purchased film and all that. I can’t wait for the hints about when the great grandkids are coming along.