Lift Up Your Hearts!

This week an Orlando man was arrested for smuggling cockroaches into Florida.  What was he thinking?

Apparently, bugs are a big business, and officers said he had them illegally shipped into Orlando from California....Local reptile experts said the roaches are a good food source for lizards. They have more meat and more nutrients than crickets. They're also quieter and easier to handle, and once you have some good breeding roaches, you won't have to buy more.

Right.  That's why we encourage lizards here, and don't even mind when they come indoors.  But breeding roaches?  On purpose?  <shudder>.

Florida has been hit by unusually cold weather lately, it is true.  But many here who complain were not around in mid-1980's, which produced the bitter cold winters which, along with developers greedy for new land, destroyed the Central Florida citrus industry.

That was not all that icy weather and poor human judgement destroyed in those years.

Twenty-five years ago today, we were eager to share with visiting friends one of the blessings of living here:  the view, from our front yard, of a space shuttle launch.

Discovery, March 8, 2001

Due to the cold morning temperatures, however, when Challenger lifted off we elected to keep our small children (and ourselves) indoors, for the view was nearly as good from our large front window.  But this time, the sight was different.  We took no pictures, but thanks to YouTube you can share the experience, albeit from a different angle,

Did I say you could share the experience?  You can see it, but you can't share it.  That those who weren't here could not understand was made obvious in the ensuing days as jokes and unfeeling comments came forth from other parts of the country.  The loss of Challenger and her crew left a mark on Central Floridians similar to that left on the rest of the country twenty years earlier by the assassination of President Kennedy, and twenty years later by the destruction of the Twin Towers.

We still remember.

In his response to the disaster, President Ronald Reagan quoted from this poem by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.  It, too, has stayed with me these 25 years.

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Jon's long-time friend Sara Foss writes a newspaper column in my old home town.  Recently the family stopped by for a visit, and ended up featured in the latest Foss Forward.  Having given Jon ample time to post about it himself, I'm breaking the news here, along with some of my favorite excerpts.  :)

[M]y friend Jon; his pregnant wife, Heather; and their three young children — ages 2, 4 and 7 — visited my home in Albany.

Naturally, I was all freaked out about having a bunch of kids descend upon my one-bedroom apartment, which lacks toys, children’s books and games. I did run out and buy pretzels and graham crackers, so that they could have a snack, but for the most part I felt woefully unprepared to entertain my young visitors.

Fortunately, the New York State Museum is right around the corner, and after a brief stint in my apartment, in which the girl played with my collection of turtle knickknacks (I even filled a bowl with water so that she could watch the plastic wind-up turtle paddle around) and her brothers improvised a game of darts in the bedroom, we headed up the street. I suspected the kids would enjoy riding on the carousel, looking at gems and stuffed animals and playing on the computers in the Discovery Room, and I was right.

In truth, I never should have worried about whether I would be able to entertain Jon’s family for an afternoon.

I’ve known Jon since I was 2, and I sensed that his kids were a lot like him — curious, imaginative, friendly, eager to do new things and see new places. What I enjoyed most about them was how well they played on their own; I didn’t have to worry about entertaining them because they entertained themselves. In fact, it seemed like they had just as much fun running up and down the sidewalk and jumping in snowbanks as hanging out in the museum, and their antics reminded me a bit of how Jon and I used to play in the snow when we were kids.

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Stephan's thoughtful parents gave Porter a jar of Speculoos à Tartiner for Christmas, and I can't wait to try it.  It's made by Lotus, the same folks who make the incredibly delicious Biscoff cookies Porter occasionally brings home from a plane flight.

I don't have as much quarrel with the TSA as many people do, but I am tired of having my luggage singled out for hand inspection nearly every time I fly.  On my most recent trip to Switzerland, I wasn't particularly surprised to find the tell-tale TSA notice in my checked bag when it and I were finally reunited (that's another story), because I was carrying a large, metal cylinder filled with dangerous ... candy canes.  The can did a great job of protecting the fragile candy, but must have looked intimidating on the x-ray.  There is no packing job so good that the TSA can't make a hash of it, but the only victim of their efforts was one crushed chocolate truffle.  We promptly destroyed the evidence.

On the way home I thought I had a chance of escaping.  I had a few bizarre encounters with airport security—none of which involved pat-downs, I'm glad to say—but it wasn't until I landed in Charlotte that my checked bag became a problem.

First, I was singled out for special treatment at Customs, because I'd answered honestly the question, "Are you bringing any food into the country?"  That always gets me into trouble, although normally as soon as I explain that the food is chocolate, cookies, and similar items, they lose interest.

Not this time.  Everything, including my purse, went through a scanner.  "What's in the jar?" I was asked.  "It's kind of like peanut butter," was the best I could do, but it was sufficient.  The pleasant Customs officials released me, and I thought I was home free. (More)

Resolution #1, Read More Books, was by far the most successful of the dozen I developed throughout 2010.  I read 65 books in the year:  fiction and non-fiction, from children's lit to an 800-page survey of ancient history.  This is a marked improvement over recent years, and I attribute it to (1) recognizing that I had let other activities replace the habit of reading, (2) deciding to make the change, and (3) setting up a system of measurement (a simple, but public, list) whereby I could see my progress or lack thereof.  This resolution is a keeper.

What did I learn most from this experience?  The realization that we can probably no longer call ourselves a literate nation.  Is there really much difference between someone who can't read and someone who doesn't?  I'm a fast reader and a good one; I love to read books and I watch television only rarely; I'm a homemaker whose children are grown.  What's more, few of the books I read were difficult, and I counted audio books as well.  In short, I have everything going for me when it comes to reading, and I made the goal as easy as possible to reach.  Yet it took a deliberate, sustained effort to read at a rate of just over one book per week.  It is now clear to me that if we want to recover literacy, it's not going to happen without serious, determined work.  Nor can we leave the effort to our schools, which to give them credit have been trying every trick in the book and then some to get kids to read, but which cannot seem to produce many graduates who read without coercion.  Literacy, like charity and world peace, must begin at home.  How can kids learn the importance of books if they never see their parents reading? (More)

I started 2011 early, being at the time six hours ahead of most of my readers.  But as I did not get back into this country until very late last night, I lost that advantage and then some.  In an unusal and daring move, I did not take my computer with me this trip.  (At each of the many airport security checks, I proudly answered, "no" when the agent pointed to my backpack and queried, "computer?")  This step was not as meritorious, nor as risky, as it might seem, since I had three other computers at my disposal at my destination, but one must begin somewhere.

Despite the opportunity to indulge in e-mail and blog checking on an almost daily basis, real-life events (remember real life?) pared that to essentials.  In other words, I returned home to an intimidating backlog for both.  By eating the elephant one bite at a time I am making progress, but some areas are not getting their usual attention, so if you wrote something important and I haven't responded, feel free to try again.

And Facebook?  I'm not even going to try to catch up.  If I missed a major life event you posted only on Facebook, have pity on me, forgive me, and let me know about it some other way.

The water came, not from the sky, but from the sprinklers left on overnight in an attempt to raise the ambient temperature for sensitive plants closer to 32 degrees than the predicted 25.  The ice shows that the precautions were not unwarranted.  At 4:30 a.m. our back porch thermometer registered 35 degrees, but I suspect it was quite a bit colder than that—the sensor is located near the house and above the worms, which had their own heating lamp for the night.

Nothing shows American individualism like the days between Thanksgiving and the end of the year, when everyone is free to celebrate the holiday of his own choosing—ancient or modern, major or minor, traditional or made-up—as long as he follows the Two Cardinal Rules:

• Don’t assume everyone else wants to celebrate the same holiday you’ve chosen, and
• Spend lots and lots of money!^*

I reach into the grab bag and choose:  Advent, all twelve days of Christmas, and Epiphany.  Perhaps New Year’s Day as well.  None, technically, involves spending a lot of money, but we generally manage to do our part, and so far this year has been no exception.

For the purposes of this blog, the operative word here is holiday.  I am attempting to take a break for the season.  I seriously doubt I won’t post at all, but do expect a significant reduction in the number and length of posts.

May whatever holiday(s) you celebrate bring you blessing!

^* The money doesn't have to be spent selfishly, despite what the television ads may lead you to believe.  I recommend considering some version of the Advent Conspiracy.

This resolution comes straight from George MacDonald, via his novel Robert Falconer.  It expressed the “divine law of [Falconer’s] activity,” and I wish to make it my own.

The phrase spreads before me a vision of quiet, effective work punctuated by seasons of true rest, the antithesis of modern society’s frantic—and often ineffectual—labor, and equally frantic striving after (unrestful) recreation.

Another author who captured this vision was J.R.R. Tolkien, in his short story, Leaf by Niggle.  At one point in the story, the protagonist is in a purgatory of sorts, and I love this description of what happens in him:

It could not be denied that he began to have a feeling of—well, satisfaction:  bread rather than jam.  He could take up a task the moment one bell rang, and lay it aside promptly the moment the next one went, all tidy and ready to be continued at the right time.  He got through quite a lot in a day, now; he finished small things off neatly.  He had no "time of his own" (except alone in his bed-cell), and yet he was becoming master of his time; he began to know just what he could do with it.  There was no sense of rush.  He was quieter inside now, and at resting-time he could really rest.

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Don't you just love it when an otherwise obscure reference clicks in your mind?

First, one of my favorite non-family blogs, The Occasional CEO, has a post entitled Steampunk in Pictures.  Steampunk, Wikipedia tells me, is a subgenre of science fiction.  Wait—I cut my teeth on science fiction, and I'd never heard of it?  Turns out steampunk came of age during the 1980's and 90's, when our kids were cutting their teeth and I was too busy to keep up with that part of my former life. (More)

It is fitting to end my November Thanksgivings with gratitude for a wonderful visit with family and a safe journey home.  Despite Heather’s prediction that I would post more about our activities than she would, you’re not likely to hear much about them.  I was too busy living the adventure to write about it.¹  Of yesterday’s voyage from Pittsburgh to Orlando I have much to say, and the illusion of time to say it.

It was a long day—nearly 16 hours door-to-door—but I can’t complain as Porter still had some 13 more hours to travel after I was safe in our own house.  If it weren’t for the final blow from JetBlue, I wouldn’t have minded at all. (More)

The older I get, the easier it is to give in to the habit of grumbling.  It's not easy to watch the world go to hell in a handbasket without complaint, and it’s part of the necessary wisdom of the elders to make the younger generations aware of what they are in danger of losing.  But too much of that attitude is unhealthy.  It’s bad for society and worse for the individual.  What, then, could be a better choice for my November New Year’s resolution than to cultivate a habit of thanksgiving?

Some of my favorite Bible verses are related to an attitude of thanksgiving.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  (Philippians 4:6)

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.  (1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18)

For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving.   (1 Timothy 4:4)

The Bible also warns against grumbling, it being one of Israel’s troublesome sins.

Do not grumble, as some of them did—and were killed by the destroying angel.  (1 Corinthians 10:10)

Most of my resolutions have come to me well in advance of my 8^th of the month deadline, but this one, despite the clarity of the choice once it was made, did not.  It was especially interesting, therefore, to see how quickly after I made the decision I started seeing confirmation everywhere.  Not that I should have been surprised—‘tis the season of Thanksgiving!

The latest Christianity Today includes an essay on gratitude by Mollie Ziegler Hemingway; unfortunately it is not yet available online.  Hemingway makes the point, quoting Cicero, that “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.”  She also provides a serious antidote to my statement above that it's not easy to watch the world go to hell in a handbasket without complaint.

Consider German pastor Martin Rinckart, who served a town that became a refuge for political and military fugitives during the Thirty Years War.  The situation in Eilenburg was bad even before the Black Plague arrived in 1637.  One pastor fled.  Rinckart buried another two on the same day.  The only pastor remaining, he conducted funeral services for as many as 50 people a day and 4,490 within one year.

Yet Rinckart is best known for writing, in the midst of the war, the great hymn that triumphantly proclaims this:

Now thank we all our God,

with heart and hands and voices

Who wonderous things has done,

in whom this world rejoices;

Who from our mothers’ arms

has blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love,

and still is ours today.

We sang that powerful hymn—in both English and the original German—at Janet and Stephan’s wedding, and I’ve long appreciated it, but I did not until now know its history.  You can learn more about it, hear the traditional tune to which it is sung, and view the words in German, at NetHymnal.

On the lighter side, Hemingway’s essay also alerted me to this video on grumbling in the midst of plenty.  Apparently it has been viral online for over a year, but if I’d never seen it, probably some of my readers haven’t either.  As modern comedy goes, it’s not terribly offensive, but neither is it grandchild safe.  It does, however, fit well with this resolution, and perfectly wtih my Good New Days series.

Developing an attitude of thanksgiving will take much practice, hence the title of this resolution.

Progress Report

I've taken to reading my list of resolutions out loud at the start of every day.  It does help keep me thinking about them.

#1  Read More Books  I'm doing even better here than I expected.  I've already met my year's goal of one book per week, and am only three books short of meeting the outside-chance, five-per-month (on average) goal that I thought was very unlikely even a month ago.  Next year I plan to revisit and analyze each resolution, but here's a preview for this one:  I'm convinced that the reason I've been so successful here is largely due to the fact that it is the only one of my resolutions that is easily quantifiable and measurable.

#2  Rediscover Feasting  I'll say one thing for Fasting Wednesdays—they certainly make me appreciate the other days of the week!  That said, I'm finally getting to the point where I can do without food for a day without thinking much about not eating.  That's a big step forward for me.

#3  Learn to Relax  I've been reading Into the Silent Land:  A Guide to the Christian Practice of COntemplation (that will be a link once I post my review) and while it's a difficult book, it has already helped me some here.

#4  Like More Things  Last month I reported learning to enjoy running.  This still needs some work before it's really "mine."  On the other hand, I think I'm solidly a fan of honey now.  There are still some forms I'm not that fond of—unfortunately, they tend to be the most common ones, like clover, which accounts for my heretofore lifelong averson—but our local beekeepers, Winter Park Honey, have taught me that I like far more varieties than I dislike:  raspberry (my hands-down favorite), blackberry, tupelo, Florida wildflower, avocado, fireweed ... who'd have thought varieties of honey could be so different, and so good?

On the non-food front, I'm learning to apply my Swiss laundry lesson to other chores:  Don't resent the time they take, don't rush to get them over and done with, don't even try to make them into a game, or to use the time for other purposes (composing essays, listening to books on tape).  Cultivate instead an appreciation for the task itself:  the dance-like rhythms of housecleaning, the feel of a baby's soft skin when changing diapers, the pleasure of physical exertion while shoveling snow, the satisfaction of watching words arrange themselves into a coherent paragraph, the deep forest scent on one's hands after pulling weeds.

#5  Pay Attention  Techniques from Into the Silent Land have thus far helped more here than with #3.  The idea of calmly, patiently, consistently and without self-reproach bringing the mind back to its proper focus of attention has been particularly useful.  It reminds me of a loving mother, helping her child learn to resist the temptation to grab a forbidden object by gently, but persistently, moving the child's hand back to where it belongs.

#6  Cast Away Fear  Believe it or not, Into the Silent Land seems to have applicability here, too.  I wish it were an easier book to understand!

#7  Talk Less, Listen More  It's funny, but when Porter is away I find myself taking over some of "his" regular conversations, such as with the folks who sit next to us at concerts, and certain people at church.  This involves both talking and listening more.

#8  Enjoy Spontaneity  I haven't written my planned GTD update yet, because I'm not nearly as far along in the process as I would like.  But in October I discovered that I've made more progress than I thought.  Thanks to having clearly spelled out for me what needed to be done before we could leave, and what could wait, I was able to enjoy our nearly spontaneous trip to Miami.  That's quite a change for me.

#9  End with the Beginning in Mind  Not much to report here, because of falling behind with GTD, but when I do manage to set things up for the morrow before going to bed, the next day always goes better.

#10  Care More about Other People—and Less about What They Think  I'm working on this—but as I said in #1, it's easier to report (and to make) progress when it's more quantifiable.

Taking a slight diversion from my Good New Days series, today I am thankful for cooler weather.  Fall has been terribly late in coming this year.  In our early years in Florida we sometimes turned the furnace on at the end of September—those  were the days when Climate Change meant the series of unusually cold winters that destroyed the citrus industry in Central Florida—but this year we needed the air conditioning right through the end of October.

But for the last few days I have been able to enjoy wearing jeans again.  I have put a blanket on the bed and dug out my winter pajamas.  Lows in the mid-40’s and highs in the mid-60’s, with bright sunshine and a pleasant reduction in the humidity:  that’s my kind of weather.  It makes me feel alive, and happy for no particular reason at all.

This morning when I woke up, the inside temperature was 60 degrees.  Normally that's cause to turn on the furnace, but by Wednesday we’re supposed to be back up into the 80’s.  So for now I’m thankful for the joy of wrapping cold fingers around a hot cup of tea.  I may even break out the oatmeal for breakfast, and enjoy a steaming hot cup of cocoa!

Stella Sung: The Phoenix Rising
Chausson: Poème
Tchaikovsky: Romeo & Juliet
Vaughan Williams: The Lark Ascending
Stravinsky: The Firebird

This concert was pure pleasure.  Five gorgeous works, two new and three old favorites.  Plus I found a new and much easier way home. 

When I was a child I always had problems cleaning my room, largely because of my bookshelves:  I'd get started straightening them out, and end up lost in a book.

Now I'm working on a larger clean-up project, my assortment of external hard drives, which are littered with files, some essential and some decidedly not.  It's a lot of work to sort one from the other, and the tendency to run down rabbit trails is even greater.  Yet it is not without its rewards, such as finding this note I'd made about one of five-year-old Janet's discoveries.  It sounds very much like something Noah would say!

Did you know that "elbow" starts with a long "L"?