Score One for St. Peter

At the All Saints' Day Party last night, one of the games required everyone to address everyone else as "Saint." So, milling around our living room, we had St. Nathan and St. Jonathan and St. Leah and St. Will... plus the hosts, Sara and Darren, neither of whom could remember to call anyone "Saint."

It was sounding pretty ridiculous already, and then Peter arrived.

Jonathan: "St. Peter is among us!"

Peter: "Ha. Hey, has anyone seen my keys...?"

Sarah: "Did you bring a rooster, St. Peter? You know, I thought that when the bell chimed and the cock crowed, you'd have to go home."

Peter: "True. Otherwise I turn into a pumpkin-eater."

-- SJ

Feast of Saints

So how do you celebrate All Saints' Day, anyway? I have no idea -- we just make it up. But the results always justify doing it again the next year. All Saints' Day is the reason Halloween is so named -- All Hallow's Eve. Throughout church history, saints have been honored on their certain "feast days"; on All Saints' Day, it's a general celebration. We like it because it's something different, because we learn new things, and because it's a good excuse for a party.

Our favorite feature of the party is the food. In the three years we've done this party, the food has gone from good to great to fabulous. Before the party, Darren assigns everyone a saint. Guests find out what country the saint is patron of, and bring a food related to that country. Sounds simple, but often isn't; therefore, we see a lot of "creative linkage."

Leah, for instance, had St. Stephen, but couldn't find his "country." So, reasoning that Stephen is a Greek name, she brought a baklava platter. Kelly and Kate were given St. Nicholas of Myra, patron saint of Turkey (and also very well-known in the West, of course). Kelly couldn't find a Turkish recipe that suited, so she made a cranberry-chicken "in the spirit of," and nobody could complain because their mouths were full. Sarah and Nathan discovered that St. Therese of Lisieux was connected with both France and Russia, so they brought French bread, sparkling lemonade, and Russian pancakes. I didn't get any of the lemonade; Darren said it was good.

Will was a bit mystified as to how he could represent South America with Our Lady of Guadelupe, and happily decided on an array of tropical fruit. (As a side note, pomegranates are excessively odd fruits, and it's hardly a compliment to have temples like them.) Charlessa brought a chocolate Michaelmas pie in honor of Michael the Archangel. Two years ago we named Charlessa the patron saint of desserts.

Jonathan wondered what on earth he was supposed to do with Joseph, the patron saint of China *and* the Vatican. He brought egg rolls and pizza bites. Darren and I assigned ourselves Our Lady of the Assumption, patron saint of India: then we ordered a dish from the local Indian restaurant, a curryish soup with lamb called "rogan josh." Dana and Brooks arrived with their representation of Irish patron Brigid: Irish soda bread flavored with carraway seed (think rye bread) and raisins. Made a great breakfast bread.

The award for most prepared presentation, however, goes to Peter. He was given Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception. We thought he'd choose one country of the four or five she patronizes (one of which is the U.S.) Instead, Peter concocted a Brazilian dessert made of avacado and lime, but added coconut and cocoa from a couple of other countries (I can't remember which, I'm afraid), passed out manila folders to represent the Phillipines, and included a spam email involving the Bank of Tanzania. And figured that since he's American, he counted as a country also. We were very impressed. We also liked the dessert.

We played games, had our usual trivia fix, sang "For All the Saints" -- a marvelous hymn -- and did lots of visiting. Darren and I look forward to these parties all year. Of course, in the midst of the eating, laughing, talking, and playing, what makes these evenings so special is that everyone leaves us the leftover food.

No, wait, I meant to say that it's special because we have very enjoyable Christian friends who really get into the spirit of things, and make it a joy to host such a party.

But the leftovers are really good, too. -- SJ

Eye Troubles

The first event of my morning was what every socially-conscious junior-higher wishes for: I picked up my glasses, and they fell apart in my hands.

Not being a junior-higher, or even very socially conscious at 7:30 a.m., I was distinctly unpleased. Fortunately I had a single left-eye contact hanging around, so that got me through the morning until I could super-glue and tape my glasses back together. It's a very precarious union, and now I look like every junior-higher's nightmare.

Funny, this is the second time a pair of glasses has simply broken unexpectedly. Both, I suppose, were due to their rough treatment; but I am less guilty now than I was at fifteen, because now I have two kids who routinely bump into my face.

Then there are the other glasses in my past -- three separate pairs over a period of several years -- which all fell victim to, variously, a softball, a basketball, and a soccer ball. And I don't even play sports all that much. Which I guess is obvious.

And I won't even go into the time that my contacts evaporated. -- SJ

Seen Around Town

On a sign at a small business:

*** WWJD?
Vote Bush ***

So I guess that's how we know Jesus is a Christian, eh? - SJ

Guardian Unlimited | Special reports | Khmer Rouge embraces Jesus

This article was linked to on one of my favourite blogs (Mark Shea) today, and I was encouraged by it. I read a book about the Khmer Rouge back a couple years ago, and it was horrifying to hear about an entire country going mad and killing all the "intellectuals" (if you had any higher education, you were killed; if you had glasses, you were killed) because they were "counter-revolutionary."

Now those same soldiers are coming to Christ. I just love it when God writes final chapters!

--DJ

Fresh-Baked Blog

www.letsdolunch.blogspot.com

There's the page. All it needs now is filling. Email me at sallysara77@yahoo.com with suggestions. -- SJ

You Have Been Haunted By the Phantom Ghost!

So I was informed by a rolled-up photocopy stuck into a little candy bucket, all of which appeared mysteriously on our porch last night. It's a neighborhood Halloween game: now it's my turn to leave three treat bags and three copies of the Phantom Ghost at others' houses tonight. Meanwhile, I display the Phantom Ghost on my door so people know I've already been haunted. I find it rather charming, even though I still haven't figured out what other kind of ghost there is. -- SJ

See, Lindsay?

We DO love you as much as the Reitzes and Koonses do. -- SJ

Hi, My Name is Sara, and I'm a Blogoholic...

A good friend told me, "You know you're addicted when you think, 'I'm just not complete with only one blog.'" Here is my admission of addiction: I want to start another blog.

But (as Steve says in "Blues Clues,") I'm going to need your help! "You" being those people who serve the meals in your house. I'd love to have a blog for us to exchange meal recipes, lunch ideas, and "leftovers: remix" suggestions.

Nothing very structured, just whatever occurs to anyone as a good idea. If anyone is interested, let me know in the Comments section. If it looks like it's a go, I can set up an email account for the purpose.

And if you're concerned that I'm sliding downhill and you don't want to contribute to my addiction, by all means refrain from doing so. But see if I ever invite you over to make toffee and watch a movie. -- SJ

English Toffee and British T.V.

So the husband leaves town, as he's done for most weekends this month. What's a wife to do? Well, in the same spirit that motivated Amy: Revert to my inner Single Girl and have girlfriends over for the night.

As Sarah mentioned, she and Leah came over Friday night. We ate supper and made toffee without the benefit of a candy thermometer (but with the very willing assistance of two very small chefs). Additionally, I got to make the dessert while my kitchen got cleaned (Sarah) and my kids got watched (Leah). Who could ask for more?

Afterward, while Leah hacked off bits of toffee for us (cold toffee is amazingly stalwart), the three of us watched an episode of "The Avengers." For anyone who is unfamiliar with this series -- and most people are -- it's a great quirky British show from the 60s. You likely can find it at a library. Try it.

Sarah left around midnight (I was glad to see her post, as it meant she did get over the mountain safely). In the very best sleepover tradition, Leah and I talked until 2 a.m. Throughout the visit and among the three of us, we got a lot of topics covered, if not quite as much sleep as usual. Long live sleepovers! -- SJ

Emergent Slang

Now that Addie is talking, a project that took her two and a half years to embark upon, she seldom makes complete sense. For instance, there's a Bob the Builder episode about "crazy paving." The words caught her fancy, and became employed as all-purpose adjectives:

"Addie, who is this boy in this picture with the coat of many colors?"
"It's a crazy crazy pavin' little boy with a coat is named Joseph."

"Addie, where is Stuart's pink bear?"
"Where's crazy pavin' pink bear? I donno."

Showing considerable future in cultural leadership, she has now created another slang word: "fuzzy" (also, "fluffy"). As with most slang, its meaning is derived from the context:

"Look! There's a dirty fuzzy truck!"

"I'm chewin' on a fluffy rock."

Yep, that's conversation in our house. So, all you crazy pavin' people, don't let a fluffy day get you down! -- SJ (with AJ)

Health Food: 1963

Recently I bought an old Reader's Digest, May 1963. Talk about readable history! It's fascinating reading what was once current (one author writes of his dilemma in "the hat department" of a local store) and what was the general conservative opinion of the nation ("The Real Truth Behind the Federal Budget" -- that being JFK's budget, of course).

Here are some excerpts from an article entitled "How Much Health Is There In 'Health' Foods?", by Ronald M. Deutsch. I'm not careful enough about what I eat to know how valid this article is, so I'm interested in what everyone else thinks. From our perspective forty years later, how does it hold up?

(I'd type it in italics or a different color, but my browser doesn't give me that option. And keep in mind that it's all excerpts, so I don't have to litter this post with ellipses.)

Many dishonest promoters [of health foods] deliberately spread falsehoods in order to sell their special foods and supplements...

>Claim #1: Much American soil is deficient in nutrients; food grown in such aoil lacks qualities needed for health.< When soils are worn out only the yield is affected. The farmer will get fewer carrots and each carrot may be smaller. But ounce for ounce, the carrots will be every bit as nutritious as any others! As for chemical fertilizers, iron is iron, nitrogen is nitrogen, whether present in the soil or added as fertilizer.

>Claim #2: Foods are robbed of essential nutrients by over-processing.< "Modern processing methods preserve nutritional values or restore them to food," says the FDA. "Americans will have to go out of their way to avoid being well-nourished."

"Whole-wheat flour," said Dr. Stare of Harvard, "has not been proved superior to enriched, refined flour... It is not necessary for the American diet today."

More later, if anyone is interested. -- SJ

An Apology to MWTK

Back before I had a household to run or kids to raise, I used to know a lot more about how to do it. And I'm ashamed to admit that I laughed behind my hand at those moms-with-two-kids who seemed to be so overwhelmed.

My sister and I babysat for a young couple when we were teens. They had two young boys. In the omniscience of my youth, I shook my head at the house that always seemed to be in disarray. The bathroom never smelled quite clean, and laundry was never quite put away. More than once my sister washed the dishes for them. Plus, they went out all the time -- sometimes twice times a month -- and never paid us a whole lot. I was baffled: How hard could it be to manage with a mere two kids?

Ten years later, I am at home with two young kids. By the end of the day, especially one when a babysitter is coming, the house is a mess and I don't feel like picking up. There's laundry in the hallway, in front of the washer, in the washer, in the dryer, and in our bedroom. And with a potty-training three-year-old, our bathroom doesn't smell very clean. We desperately need date nights, and go as often as we can, but once a month is about what we can manage; finances just don't allow any more.

So this is an official apology to all those Moms With Two Kids who feel overwhelmed and wonder how anyone can possibly have any more kids. Now I know what your life is like. Now I can put myself in your shoes, and kick my know-it-all teenage self all over town. -- SJ

Grey Days

Today is a sulky, grey day. These days magnify the distance between me and my family (it's up to about 4,000 miles now), makes me wonder why nobody ever calls me, and turns the email notification "0 New Messages" into a personal insult. With the additional fun fact that 2003 was grey almost every single day for about nine months, it's needless to describe the state of my life that year.

This year I can meet a grey day fighting, though. Today the kids and I baked apple bread together, bought pumpkins at Wal-Mart, and will go for a walk after naptime to collect fall leaves. The time passes much more pleasantly, and I don't look back on a string of wasted days behind me.

Something tells me that God is not calling me to live in the Pacific Northwest. -- SJ

License Plates, part III

I can understand a vanity plate advertising the year and make of your car:
65MSTANG
76MRCDES (Ah, Sadie!)

But (as we saw the other day): 03ACORD?

XTRMLE UNCR8TV -- SJ

In Defense of Martha

I was reading in John 11 today, and feel compelled to clear Martha's sullied reputation in the Christian Living world.

Martha, if you recall, had a sister, Mary. Martha was rushing about getting things ready for company, while Mary sat at Jesus' feet and listened to Him. When Martha complained (and I always secretly sympathized with her), Jesus said that Martha was too distracted by worldly cares and that Mary had chosen the better way. So Bible studies, sermons, and articles in homeschooling magazines exhort us to be like Mary.

But in John 11, Martha proves her mettle. Her brother Lazarus has died, and Jesus inexplicably didn't show up in time to heal him. He gets there four days late. Who is it who runs out to greet Him? Martha. Who is so disappointed that she doesn't even acknowledge He has come? Mary. It's Martha who goes to Mary and says, "He wants to see you." Only then does Mary run out to speak with Him, and that's only to blame Him for Lazarus' death.

It was Mary who knew how to listen to His words. But it was Martha who knew how to cling to her faith when life turned bitter. While we're busy being Marys in a Martha world (as the title of a popular book has it), don't neglect to be a Martha in Mary circumstances. -- SJ

Numbered Days

In the interests of equal time, I thought I'd come up with a math memory. Several thoughts sprang to mind immediately:

* In first grade, I drew princess hats (wimples, as I now know them) on all my sixes, because six was the nice princess in the number line. Nine was the mean princess. Her wimple was very small.

* The boy sitting in front of me once did an assignment completely on his own, adding Big Numbers like 100 and 200. Once he showed me how he did it, I wasn't impressed; you just added 1's and 2's and threw in some zeros. I should have paid more attention. I'm always scrambling to keep up with my zeros now. ("I read that somebody bought a painting for $1,000,000. Or maybe it was $10,000. I don't remember how many zeros there were.")

* Story problems disturbed me. I always wanted to know why A wouldn't finish the job with B.

* My math teacher in sixth grade was left-handed.

* My stepfather had a master's degree in mathematics. He did not think my way of looking at math was endearing.

* My husband thinks I'm weird. The scary thing is, my family doesn't. -- SJ

First Words

Both our kids' first words were "Amen," not as much out of piety as that it meant the blessing was over so they could eat. But actually I was thinking about words that I remember learning for the first time. Not including "condiments."

Three words I distinctly remember learning are "belligerent," after my mom was complaining about the parents at one of my softball games; "oblique," a great word to use as a sort of backhanded compliment, such as, "Marti has an oblique sense of decoration."; and "succumbed," when Mom sent a note to my fifth-grade teacher (Mrs. Kirkpatrick, for you homebuddies) saying, "Sara's paper was thrown away, and by the time she rescued it, it had succumbed to its surroundings."

Another fond word memory was during our homeschooled years, when Rosemary and I discovered just how funny we were. Mom was teaching us that the meaning of the word "manifest" was "to make apparent." Rosemary remarked, "Hey, Mom, we manifested you! We made you a parent!" I have to say, Mom's response, while not belligerent, certainly proved that her appreciation for Rosemary's oblique point of view had succumbed to the pressures of the day.

Funny that I don't remember learning any algebraic formulas for the first time. -- SJ

The Case of the Missing Dumplings

For Darren's birthday supper, I made him chicken and dumplings (which makes him love me). I've made chicken and dumplings many times, all successfully. But last night I decided to be innovative.

On Sunday, I'd tried a new recipe that involved dumplings, using a slightly different recipe than I was used to. The result was really good. So I adapted the new recipe to my old standby, and envisioned thick broth with fluffy white dumplings to set before my husband.

He got home, and we were catching up on the day, when I stirred the pot to see how the dozen or so dumplings were looking. I stirred more. I scooped the bottom. And with an anguished cry, I wailed, "My dumplings disappeared!"

Too late did I realize why Sunday's recipe called for simmering, not boiling, in the broth. Every last one of my special new dumplings had disintegrated.

I quickly made up a batch of regular dumplings, and saved the dish. It was a success after all, especially with the specially thick, smooth broth thanks to my exciting recipe innovation. -- SJ

Note: leftover dumpling dough, even if containing butter, baking powder, and seasonings, does not transform into biscuits. You end up with, well, baked dumplings. Just a random recipe note.

A Special Birthday Poem

In the spirit of the tributes published in the George County Times:

Happy birthday to Darren,
A man kind and carin'.
His love with others he's sharin',
And he's lots of fun.

He doesn't mind if it's told
That he's getting sort of old.
He's still made of gold,
Even at thirty-one.

I love you a lot,
You sure are real hot.
What a treasure I've got,
Better than anyone.

Happy birthday!

-- SJ

License Plates, part II

This last weekend, I went to a men's retreat up in Pennsylvania (counterpart to Sara's women's retreat from a couple weeks ago). Of the 14 cars or so there, at least 6 of them were personalized.

PEN-GAVL - that's ours.
NONOBIS - quote from the Latin version of Ps. 115:1 - "Non nobis Domine."
EUCHRST - that's our pastor's car.
2KNOHIM - took me a little bit to figure out, but a great goal.
SLYTHRN - okay, so what's Draco doing here associating with us mudbloods*??

* Note: This one is a Harry Potter joke. If you haven't read or seen the HP stories, just ignore it. But it's kind of like having a NAZGUL plate in Minas Tirith's parking lot. **

** Note: This one is a Lord of the Rings joke. If you haven't read or seen the LOTR stories, please stop what you are doing and GO READ THEM! Or at least see the movies.

--DJ

America's Moral Decay

At one time in my life, I confused the word "condiments" with another word of a much more intimate and controversial nature. At the same time, I was just beginning to understand all the talk about America's rapid decline in morals. So imagine the shock to my twelve-year-old soul when I saw -- right there in a McDonald's drive-thru -- "Condiments upon request." How low America had sunk, that you could request such a thing while picking up hamburgers! I wondered why I hadn't seen any outraged commentary on this deplorable condition yet.

Fortunately I didn't feel compelled to publish my own outrage before my vocabulary improved. -- SJ

Laughing with a Lawyer

When Darren called me from work yesterday, he said he was working on a complaint to file. I said, "That's all you do at work. Complaint after complaint. Do you have to whine so much?" And I laughed and laughed at my own joke.

That evening as we were getting ready for bed (you know you've been married a while if you can carry on a conversation while both are brushing teeth), Darren finished up by explaining what the complaint entailed. It was full of picky little things, and why Darren enjoys it is one of those charming mysteries about him. I said, "And you find this appealing?"

"Oh, no, that's later. We don't appeal unless the complaint..." At which point I chased him out of the bathroom and slammed the door. His gleeful laughter haunted me, though: "Hee, hee, hee! I win! I win!" -- SJ

As requested...

This quiz, What's Your Spiritual Type, is the one that Sara was talking about below. I enjoyed taking it, even though, like every multiple choice quiz, there were questions where I had to choose the "least wrong" answer.

I hope you have fun with it. Oak Brookies, isn't it nice to have quizzes that don't affect your future livelihood? :)

--DJ

About being a grownup

One of the great things about being an adult is that now, when I have a subject I'm interested in, I can read all I want (or have time) to about it, but I don't have to write up a report for school.

Last week, I finished a book I'd picked up at a library book sale. The book was printed in 1936, and the title was "al-Baghdadi." The book contained 15 newsletters from 4 Christian teachers who went to Baghdad, Iraq, in 1932 to found a Christian school. It was fascinating reading; Iraq was just gaining its independence, the Kurds and Iraqis didn't get along, and Persia had recently changed its name to Iran. No one in the States knew where Baghdad was; the editor of the newsletter complained several time that donations took a long time to get there because people thought it was in Australia or Brazil.

I've put out a request via Inter-Library Loan for a book about the school, which lasted until 1969, when Sadaam Hussein's Baathist Party took over Iraq, nationalized all the private schools, and gave the teachers 5 days to leave the country.

So now I know something new, and I don't have to type up a report for anyone! (Makes you wonder why I'm blogging - isn't that reporting? Ah, yes, but it's not mandatory :))

Quizzical Spirituality

Darren found a quiz yesterday that determines your "spiritual type," which both of us enjoyed. This post is merely a reminder to him to link to it from our blog, if you wouldn't mind, sweetheart.

We enjoy our blogohood, the circle of friends we share blogs with. Our "catching up" at the end of the day always includes the blogosphere. "Wasn't that great what he wrote about that guy at his office?" "Did you read her post about that movie?" "You really need to go to their site -- a hilarious post today." What a great way to keep up with distant friends. We're such nerds. -- SJ

Around the Neighborhood

Now that it's cool in the evenings, kids on bikes swarm the street. Last week we took a walk through a jungle of at least seven bikes, three of which lined up for a race. They raced to the purple car; once there, the bike in the lead declared that they had to race back to the starting line to finish. He won.

Addie likes picking at those dark blotches on the road, despite being strictly forbidden. A lot of them are gum, but surely not all of them are. You won't believe how many of those blotches are on our street alone. I can't say I ever actually noticed them before now, but Addie keeps us vigilant.

Lots of houses are decorating for Halloween, everything from lighted pumpkins and orange lights to a full graveyard in the front yard, roped off with yellow tape reading, "Enter if you dare."

The other day we saw 12-year-old Kelly, in roller blades, straddling a toddler bike and coming toward us at a pretty good pace. She was being pushed along by Rachel, also 12. The girls moved into the neighborhood within a month or two of one another and share a backyard. You rarely find Kelly without Rachel.

It was Kelly who entered the jungle of bikes the other day and won instant popularity. She was taking her pet, Marlow, for a walk. Everyone likes Marlow. He's a guinea pig, and rides around the neighborhood on a skateboard. -- SJ