Day of Rest?

Sundays are busy days. First, I get to church and rehearse with the choir, then we have service, then I rehearse with the chime choir, then Drew picks me up from his church and we decide what comes next. Sometimes Drew has errands he wants/needs to run, but today he decides to go back to campus, grab lunch at Gracie's and get going on homework. I am happy to oblige. Still, with all the running around, I don't get home until 2 pm. I decide to read a bit, but my eyes refuse to stay open, so at long last, after a busy day, I lie down and take a nap.

My concern is that I will sleep long enough that I won't be able to go to bed at a normal time. But there is no help for it. I curl up on top of the covers and drift off almost before Sugar has managed to jump up beside me. How luxurious it feels to be able to take a nap. Sure, there are things I could be doing, but nothing is pressing, and after all, it is a day of rest. I wake around 6 pm, feeling much better. I bumble about in the kitchen making dinner and taking care of Sugar.

I see the little odds and ends of things that I have been meaning to take care of, but somehow the lingering sense of rest prevents me from any motivation that would drive me to do all those little things. I resist. I even resist turning on a movie or going back to assigned readings. Sugar and I take a long leisurely walk, then I settle in to my chair and decide to spend the time working on my grandchildrens' diaries.

This was a project that began with the birth of my first grand daughter. When she was born, her parents presented me with a blank book and asked me to write in it and present it to my sweetheart on her 16th birthday. A sort of time capsule of life unfolding during her first 16 years. What a great idea! I write in it from time to time, wanting to share things with her that are important, things that will help her in life. Then I realized I ought to be doing this for my other grand children as well. Perhaps it will last after I am gone and unable to help them as they wrestle with life's decisions. Not that I will be able to address their specific situations, but I can point them to the One who can.

So every week, in addition to trying to send them each a real letter, handwritten and everything, I work on one grand child's diary. Soon I will have to add in another book to work on. My fifth grandchild, a boy, is due in October. It is just the right project to end the day. I smile as I write words that I hope will someday bring my darlings a measure of confidence and joy. Nice work if you can get it.

HomeComing Book Sale

Oy. Every year we offer materials that are either no longer needed for our collection or duplicates of what we have in a book sale at Homecoming. This year is no exception. Usually we are only given 2 large tables, and we press into service the 4 picnic tables on the patio and numerous book carts. It takes a good deal of time to set it all up and get the signs in place - Fiction here, Religion there, Education this table, Business over there. Paperbacks $1, Hardcover $2. Bibles free (I just can't in good conscience sell a Bible).

This year, for some unknown reason, facilities leaves us 6 tables. We manage to get everything except one cart load on the tables. Sweet. People begin looking before we are ready. That's fine. If they want something, I stop arranging and make the sale. We take turns running the cash box and marking the take, knowing full well we will have plenty of material to put back in storage afterwards. The facilities crew shows up. They are as puzzled as we are about the tables, but they don't repossess them, thank goodness.

We have a handful of customers during the parade, then more, then when food starts smelling delicious, we get lots of lookers. We do well again this year. Last year we used the money to preserve some of our older books - some of the ones published before 1850 and rather unique - or at least not widely held elsewhere, but important to our institution.

The weather has been grand and the attendance is good. I am happy to see so many people, but also happy at the end of the day to go in and sit at reference and let others put all the unsold books in the back. I appreciate all the help. One more homecoming sale under our belt. Several hundred good books in the hands of people who want them. Nice.

When ResponseWare Does Not Respond

We used to use Turning Point software to allow students in my classes to vote online in real time. But the software is no longer supported and has gone obsolete. Translation: it no longer works with Windows 7. Fortunately, I discover this before I teach my first class of the semester. Our wonderful IT support person finds out that we can get a new software called ResponseWare. He sets us up with accounts. Our Systems Librarian plays with it and invites us to test it out together.

But alas! What worked great in her office does not cooperate in the instruction lab. We keep getting kicked out and can't get back in. We try to vote, but cannot. And we discover that the PowerPoint I have been using is also out of date and I need to upgrade that as well. So much to stay on top of! I am at the point of not wanting to keep playing with it to try and fix it. I want to go make the upgrades that I can make and try to sort through all the changes, then come back and try again.

Meanwhile, I will make non-voting presentations to use. Not as effective, but it will have to do until we get all the pieces back on the plate!

Chimers at Choir

Chord ringing. It is supposed to be something you can do quickly without a lot of practice or gear. I am hoping to wean the chime choir from their dependency on printed music and tables. So this year my plan is to ring chords for one hymn each month.

This first time out was a bit stressful since it will be the first time we have tried this. I remove the tables and just give them 4 stands to share. There are only four chords, but some of the notes play in more than one chord. We draw a map by chord and by note. We do conquer the ringing in a short time, but since we haven't tried it with people singing (other than just me), the chimers decide to come to choir practice and ring chords while the choir sings.

It works well, but we have a bit of a tempo issue. We sing slower and slower, so the accompanist commits to play a short interlude between the verses so she can refresh the tempo to something a bit less dragging. Good strategy! I think this will be a good start to learning to ring more comfortably and without being so tied to the music. Bravo!

A Bit of Well Deserved Pampering

This is my month to plan a social event for our staff. I realized that we have all been wrestling with demanding workloads and difficult changes, and we deserve a break. We often do special events for our students, to let them know we appreciate them and to provide a respite from the daily grind of college life. Why not do something like that for ourselves. I drag another staff person into the plot, and we come up with a spa day.

I am not sure how the men will take to it, but we plan to set up the Fireside Reading Room as a spa where we can relax and take a deep breath. We play nature sound CD's of birds and such, we offer hot packs to wrap around your neck and a water fountain bubbling away. We set up a digital picture frame with scenes of flowers and place a large bouquet of sun flowers and purple heather on the table. There is hot wax to put your hands in and comfy chairs to relax in.

I provide a full real English tea complete with scones and cream, chocolate chip bread, strawberries to dip in chocolate and hot tea of your choice. People walk in the room and their eyes grow round. This is for us? Yes! Be pampered and let yourself unwind after a hectic semester beginning. Gender was immaterial. Everyone took full advantage of the spa, relaxing, trying out the hot paraffin, munching scones and sipping hot tea. The hour flew by and I had to tear myself away to sit at the Reference Desk while they lingered, reticent to wander away from the quiet space.

One thing is for sure. We do not do this often enough. I think we should make it an annual tradition. September Spa Day. I like the sound of that.

Ladies Night Out

Try something different. The Melting Pot is a new restaurant in the mall. It is a fondue specialty. One of us has been before. For the others, it is an experience waiting to happen. Our waiter is a jovial young man who reads his customers like a book. He know just what metaphor to use to coax us into spending lots of money trying new things. It takes awhile for us to decide. Two will have the cheese with bread and veggies. Two will have the meat and potatoes. Salads all around (except me, of course).

Soon we are laughing and chatting and dipping our skinny fondue forks deep into the cheese or the hot oil. The food disappears with gusto and we are surprised at how full we are. No room for dessert even though our waiter insists that there is always room for chocolate! Tempting, but not tonight. We are stuffed. And talked out. What a satisfying experience. Bit pricey (we didn't go for the house selections - they carried a bit of sticker shock).

I reflect on how blessed I am as I head home to walk the dog and try to stay awake until I have to pick up Drew from work and cart him back to the dorm. Sure pray he is able to get a car before winter weather sets in. He thought he could swing it, but then he had to purchase some pricey software, and there went the car. These midnight runs are a bit tiring!

Praying in Chapel

Today at Roberts community chapel, our speaker is my spiritual adviser and the director of spiritual formation at the seminary. Her topic is renewal through prayer. What a gentle and gracious woman she is as she talks briefly about the ancient traditions of prayer. But what makes this service so amazing is that rather than only talking to us about prayer, she leads us in community prayer. She has selected encouraging passages and set them together so that they are easy to follow and we know what to do, what is our part, what is her part. Some are read responsively, some are sung, some are silent, some are read to us.

Like a good hostess, she invites us to the table and provides us with the right utensils and service ware to partake and enjoy. How uplifting to hear the community say words of significance together, words that travel around the room, yes, but words that surely travel beyond ourselves to the ears of God Almighty. We hear his response through the Scriptures. We address commonalities of concerns, identify our humanness, are encouraged to know we are not alone. This is a wonderful and profound service that will travel some good ways with us as we end the service and go our separate paths.

Teach us to pray, O Lord. And keep drawing us into your presence. We leave feeling somehow refreshed and renewed. The flavor will color the rest of the day and beyond. Delightful.

Purple Mushroom

One of my neighbors planted a huge purple mum in a large plant urn and placed it on the sidewalk in front of his house. It looks for all the world like a gigantic purple mushroom. There is no space for the greenery to show through and you can't even see the top of the pot it is growing in.

In fact, it almost looks plastic and fake, it is so large and so packed with blossoms. I am tempted to touch it just to see if it is real or not, but I resist. I figure about the time I touch it, the neighbor will come out and yell at me. So I walk by it three times every day and smile.

Then one day I walk by, and there is a jagged fissure in the middle of the plant, as if some giant hand chopped into it. I stop to gawk, finally able to see some green. As I stand there looking, the story of Jericho comes to mind and I start laughing. Perhaps I have walked around this plant enough times that destruction has fallen upon it. Well, maybe not destruction. Just a more lifelike realism and less plastic purple.

Sugar sniffs it to see what all the hoohaw is about, then wanders off, unimpressed.

Done and Done

Remember that paper I was trying to finish the other day? It practically wrote itself today. All I had to do was sit still and type. It flowed out like silk. Nice. I have already begun reading for next semester. I am going to thoroughly enjoy classes this fall mostly because I get to take spiritual formation, an area I am interested in and want to explore.

Not that the other classes haven't been interesting and helpful. They have all shed light on topics I never imagined would be so fascinating. It's like getting to go swimming at great beaches every semester. Too bad I didn't connect with this area of study sooner. But then, I might not have been ready to absorb and chew up and digest earlier. Nor would I have been free to delve deeply to my heart's content. Too many other responsibilities to handle.

I am happy to be done with this paper, but it is just the tip of the iceberg. Now I have to work on the serious literature review for my dissertation, along with revitalizing the other chapters that are in partial completion. I think it may well take me a full semester to get everything to a place where I can discuss it with my adviser. I am excited at the turns and augmentations to my understanding of this topic of the role of Scripture in the care of Christian cancer patients. What a mixture of threads to sort through. Onward and upward.

Bird's Nest

Sugar was dawdling. She has figured out that if she stops and sniffs everything possible, circles back two or three times, takes every side turn that comes her way and in general fiddles around, she gets to stay outside longer and I won't leave her alone as soon as if she just took care of business and exercised her legs properly. Talk about your passive-aggressive behavior!

Most of the time I grant her the opportunity to be outdoors. Winter weather will be upon us soon enough and long leisurely walks will be out of the question. So I stood patiently while she licked the white and green quack grass someone planted behind the strip of garages. While waiting, I stretched my neck up toward the beautiful blue sky and just hugged the puffy white clouds and the mellow air. I can't remember a more pleasant fall.

Birds were singing their happiness and I glanced around to see if I could spot any of them. I noticed in passing that the light fixture by the apartment door I was standing near had something wadded up behind it. On closer inspection, I realized there was an abandoned bird nest packed tightly between the glass covering of the light and the aluminum siding of the porch wall. It looked like just a bunch of dirty straw that had somehow gotten lodged in place. Where would an egg fit in such a mess?

For that matter, how would a baby bird not be roasted while waiting for dinner! What a strange place to raise your young. But then, people also raise their young in the strangest environments for little children. I don't envy young mothers these days, juggling their wee ones between job and errands and volunteer work. Not to mention the price of houses. I saw an article the other day about people in California renting the equivalent of a closet to live in. Talk about tightly wadded up in a space.

Well, Sugar is tugging at the leash and I am happy to move on and let the birds deal with their own issues. It is too beautiful outdoors today to get caught up in reverie about serious life issues.

Flood??

There I was, sitting in a stall in the ladies room, minding my own business, when the bathroom door slammed open and hurried footsteps danced a jig to the nearest open stall. The stall door banged shut, a few seconds of scuffle, then I thought Niagara Falls had suddenly burst loose. Lord have mercy, that girl can go! It went on for what seemed like forever until I thought she must have emptied every inch of her insides. I can't remember ever having to go that much or that furiously.

When she finally finished and sighed her relief I almost laughed right out loud. It was all I could do to stifle my amusement. Why on earth did she wait so long? I am sure there was a good reason, but its a wonder she didn't have an accident. She must have consumed a few gallons of fluids. There are times I would give my left eyetooth to be able to go that well. Sign of a young body, I suppose. Who would have ever thought they would be grateful to pee buckets?

Every day I find I am grateful for things that one does not normally give thanks for. I wonder what God thought when I told him how much I wanted to be able to generate Niagara Falls next time I visit the ladies room? Maybe he was stifling his laughter at how silly his children sometimes are.

Diabetes??

You got to be kidding me. Now the doctor is concerned about my sugar levels. Why not. This darn treatment has affected every other area of my body, why not my pancreas? Sigh. She is ordering another blood test to see if it was just a fluke or if we really need to be concerned. She tells me to eliminate carbohydrates. Can you imagine? One of the few things I can eat is white bread. If they take too much more away I won't be able to eat anything. I guess that will solve the problem!

She hears the frustration in my voice and suggests I go back to the dietician and see what can be done. They have already given up on me, but I guess it won't hurt to talk to them again. She also said she can put me on medication - like I need more of that. If they don't get you from one direction they will get you from another. I'll work it out. After all, I have been through much worse. Though I have to say it is all getting to be such a bother that I am not sure how much more I want to bother with.

Maybe I will start with more exercise. Now where will I find the energy for that???

The Back Porch

In my new community, everyone seems to keep a cozy back porch. Some of them are so inviting that I just want to sit there for awhile and enjoy the great outdoors. On sunny days, many people to sit outside enjoying life. It reminds me of the old neighborhoods where you knew everyone and kids hung around together and played.

Most of the porches have comfy seats and little tables. Many of them have beautiful plants in full bloom either hanging or sitting along the edge of the concrete slab. Some have the solar lights all around so that at night you can still see the pretty places. One place in particular has wicker over-sized chairs, old wooden stools, so many plants that they form walls around the porch, a bird feeder, a milk can painted with flowers, and baskets filled with an assortment of odds and ends.

It makes you think you have found a summer cabin where you can put your feet up and relax. So inviting. Even Sugar makes a beeline for this porch and sniffs all around as if looking for a long lost companion. I imagine God's house must have such a wonderful porch, a place where we can just be together, enjoying each other's company, watching the sun set and listening to the birds call - sparrows, robins, mourning doves, and even the blue jays.

I'd like to enable my porch to be so inviting. I'll have to work on it. I don't spend a lot of time outdoors when I am home, but maybe if I made my porch a nest I would sit there more often. As long as I don't sit there alone like I see so many neighbors doing. Working on it.

Interviewing

Once again I am searching for a Circulation and Interlibrary Loan supervisor. Our most recent hire found a position in an elementary school, which gives her more time with her children and more money. I totally understand that.

I should write a paper on hiring considerations and caveats. In this economy we get inundated once again with the over, under and inappropriately qualified desperadoes who just need a job. I have gambled on the over qualified and sure, they bring wonderful expertise for the short time they are with us before they find something better. I am always taken aback by the number of people who apply because they love to read or because they were English majors and therefore experts on books.

Truly they have no idea that working in a library is a profession just like any other, a career that requires specific training and knowledge, an expertise and multiple skills that aren't easy to just pick up. Ah, well. This time I have a number of people with library experience. Still, we are as specialized a teachers who must teach specific subjects. Just because someone has worked in a library before does not necessarily mean they know how to do the specific job I am seeking to fill. A Circulation Supervisor does not equal a Reference Librarian does not equal a cataloger. Sigh.

As a small academic institution, it is challenging to find eminently qualified people who are happy to settle for the lower pay but who satisfy the institutional fit requirements. We either end up with a good fit and no expertise, or the right expertise and no fit.  Still, I remain hopeful of finding someone with both the right fit and the right skills to handle this position well. It could happen. And then the trick is getting them to hang around for awhile!

Happy Anniversary

Can it be possible that the kids have been married a whole year already? Wow - the time has flown by. They are busy learning to be together, to walk smoothly through life's bumps. They are doing fine. They have work to do and I sometimes wish I could make their path easier, but I cannot.

I asked my daughter-in-law if the first year had been all she had expected. She hesitated, then answered, "I'm working on it." Hum. I thought back to my first year of marriage. I was so young, so naive, so clueless. But somehow life's lessons get through and you slowly manage to gain understanding and savvy. Especially when kids come along. Amazing how fast you grow up when someone is totally dependent on you for everything!

In the meantime, they will find their way as we all do. Hopefully they will end up with the kind of mature relationship that sees them well into old age together amicably. To celebrate, we all go to the dollar movies and have ourselves a good laugh. It's nice to be close enough to see each other from time to time, yet not be under each other's feet.

Buried in Paperwork

Today I have one goal: finish this paper. But how silly I was to pray this morning in my devotions, "Lord, let me do what you want me to accomplish today." What was I thinking? I had not even asked what he wanted me to do today. I already had my marching orders. Go to my office, bury myself in the sources, and complete that darn paper!

But God had other plans. Usually when I am in my office but not officially at work, no one bothers me. Today was completely different. No sooner had I started writing than a timid knock on my door brought a student worker with questions. I took care of the situation, settled in again and had just begun when another person entered and began a long litany of troubles. I listened with concern - which was really all that was needed - but must admit to fidgeting a bit after an hour flew by and no sign of resolution appeared. Finally she was able to feel satisfied and left, and I took a short break. On returning to my office, I was greeted by another person in need of talking to someone, venting anger, spewing venom so as not to make an injury to the deserving party. Once again I listened. This was getting downright hilarious!

This scenario was repeated several more times, and finally, late in the afternoon, having accomplished absolutely nothing on my paper, I gave up, brain dead now, and headed home feeling defeated. After all, I had an agenda for the day and accomplished none of it. Then I remembered my morning prayer. Perhaps what I managed was to inadvertently go along with God's agenda for the day. Too bad I didn't realize it as I was going through it. I would have paid more attention! And that being the case, I stopped fretting about my paper. After all, if God asked me to set that aside for a bit and do something more necessary, he will open up the time to do the less important work of completing an assignment. I am content.

Happy Birthday Mom

Today is the day on which my mother was born. I can barely imagine the old clapboard house, dark with age, setting in the middle of nowhere at the time, where Mom was born. Gram was not supposed to be able to have another child, but God saw things differently. He endowed Lillian with her father's quick wit and wry sense of humor, with her mother's stubbornness and determined persistence. She learned to be a scrapper from her older brother who lorded it over the roost.

Mom sometimes talked about going to bed in a house without central heat, of warming bricks in the wood stove, wrapping them in cloths, and putting them at the foot of her bed before having to jump into the icy sheets. She told tales of chamber pots and outhouses, of summer kitchens and chickens, of her father working on the first cars and getting a contract from Skippy Peanut Butter to keep their trucks running.

She told stories about cats and dogs and hating math in school, of living with relatives like her grandparents, of Christmases with homemade decorations, of the smell of coffee and bacon. Then came college and falling in love and birthing twins and losing one she never saw. I think she never did come to terms with the death of Philip, but she was filled with spunk and hard work and a strong work ethic that she embossed on her children.

Still, she had a loving and tender heart. She read to us every single night, long before that was the thing to do. She saw that we celebrated all the holidays fully and never seemed to tire of making Halloween costumes and doll clothes and beautiful quilts. I never quite figured out how she learned her parenting skills. Surely not from her Mother, though Gram was a remarkable woman. But Mom was so much more gracious and thoughtful, so concerned that her children be treated well even though we did not have much money.

She taught us survival by surviving. She taught us the importance of education even though she did not hold a professional career position. She taught us to notice what was going on with others and to do something about it. She tracked the important stuff and left us a lifetime legacy of rituals to pass on to our children.

Though she languished at the end of her time here on earth, she was loved and cared for just as she had loved and cared. Now that she is with Philip and Dad and my son Michael, I hope she realizes that we love and remember her especially on this day, and thank her for all she did while with us. Love you, Mom. Happy no-longer-counting birthday.

Tinges of Autumn

Today for the first time I see brushes of color appearing on the trees. Just a touch mind you. A faint hint of red here, a little dab of yellow there. Like graying at the temples, this foretaste of autumn coyly teases from the most unexpected places. A glance out the window as I am driving. A promise viewed from the Fireside Reading Room overlook. A tiny taste of color way high on the landscape seen from the Reference Desk. Yes, fall is coming. I know it is just around the corner, because for the first time, Wegman's is selling fresh cider. Yum and smack.  I can taste the tang and my tongue shivers with delight.

Flashbacks to the old tumbledown cider mills and presses Dad used to frequent this time of year. Visions of apples scattered beneath loaded tress, the drops our goal for filling bags because they were cheaper than picking off the trees. The smell of fresh baked doughnuts and the buzzing of bees seeking their last meal of summer before hibernation sets in. Glorious sprays of mums dotting the landscape with gold and maroon and purple. Ah, fall! Come, blessed season. Bring us your cool air, your brilliance, you closing days of sun and blue sky without the ice of winter. Let us shuffle through the fallen leaves when they come and remind ourselves that this season, like all the other seasons, offers us unique blessings and sumptuous fare. Let us fully appreciate what we have while we still have it.

Still Hurting

If it hurts, take an Advil. That's what the dentist said. The part she didn't say was - it gonna hurt like crazy! With bottom teeth, there is always the pesky food falling into the wound concern. What if it gets infected? I did use ice, but the swelling today is more than it was yesterday. What does that mean? I remember last time I had a tooth pulled, it hurt for 5 or 6 days. Seems like I am going down the same road with this one. Boo.

I tell myself that if someone cut a huge gouge out of my arm and didn't bother to stitch it up, it would hurt for a long time. So this is nothing unusual. I take my Advil, slap my ice pack on my cheek and moan quietly. This too shall pass. And then I can have another one pulled. There are several that need to be addressed. Cheer up. At least I got Novocaine for the pulling part. Today I will do a lot of walking and get my blood circulating to speed up the healing process. Meanwhile, owie owie owie.

Owie

My tooth has been bothering me for awhile.This weekend it worsened. I knew I would have to address it at the dental ER today. I have been living on pain killers, not a great option. Filled with angst, I head to the dental clinic. I have not been in awhile, mostly because the dentists keep telling me to get root canals and caps, to the tune of $4000 per tooth. At that rate, I would have to come up with about $20 grand and I just can't justify that amount of money for my mouth. I have repeatedly suggested dentures, but that brings a tidal wave of objections. I will not be happy with dentures. I should hold on to my own teeth as long as possible. I have no idea what a can of worms that will open (I keep thinking of all the people I know who have had dentures for years and seem to be OK with them). Unless of course I am open to the idea of implants - which would cost even more than the root canals and caps. Its all a racket as far as I am concerned. And in my passive aggressive way of dealing with these disagreements, I have done nothing, for which I am now paying.

I am ready for an argument. What I discover is a whole new ER. No all day waiting. No mixing in with the regular patients. I am checked in and being examined in less than a half hour. Amazing. The technician takes an x-ray. Then the dentist enters. She asks me right away about my radiation treatments. I describe what I have been through. She tells me that she knew it had been extensive because the damage is very apparent on my x-ray. I ask her to tell me more. She explains that now there is pre-treatment for all cancer patients undergoing radiation. What I have been through has made my jaw bone shrink, the vessels supplying blood to my teeth to narrow. If I go ahead with root canals, the only thing still supplying my teeth with life, the nerves, would be taken away as well. For me, she suggests that when I reach the root canal point, I ought to have the tooth pulled. There is nothing they can do to halt the damage, which will continue to progress.

I ask if I should get dentures. She says she is not here to do an assessment, but to address the emergency. I should make an appointment and get a plan. It might not be an all or nothing proposition. I am both relieved and depressed. Relieved to know I have not been all that off in my assessment. Depressed to know that the damage will be ongoing, and frightened a bit to think that if my jaw bone is shrinking, other bones are being affected. Don't even want to think what that might mean. It is challenging to listen to oncologists tell me how wonderful I am doing, all the while underneath the surface there is destruction happening.

Today, I will just deal with the bad tooth. The dentist suspects the cap will come off before the roots come out, and she is correct. Still, she is competent and gets the whole thing out fairly quickly. No stitches though. Just go home and ice it. Take an Advil if it bothers me. Sigh. Baby steps. But steps nonetheless.

Gracie's

Drew was kind to invite me to share a meal with him at his college dining hall, Gracie's. The last time we had eaten there, he was exploring whether to apply at RIT. Now, he confesses, in his meal plan he has to use up 3 meals before the end of the day or he will lose them. I am happy to tromp up the ramp to the cashier and explore the delightful cuisine of college prep. He discovers that he cannot give his meal to me, but that he is allotted 3 comp meals per month, and he can use one of them. So I get to eat there after all.

I wander from food bar to food bar, seeing what is on the menu for the day. Lots of fried foods, lots of "ethnic" cuisine (Mexican, Italian, Chinese). The usual cereal, pudding, ice cream, soda stuff. Hum. Drew has already selected his meal components, and I scramble to find something both appealing and digestible so I can join him at table. Eating never used to be like this. You were handed a balanced meal (in our home, it was meat, potatoes, vegetable, salad and bread). If you didn't happen to be crazy about the menu, tough luck. You ate it anyway because it was good for you, it was healthy (or so we thought at the time), and one should be exposed to a wide variety of tastes and types of food - aka not be a picky fussy eater.

Now you select what your taste buds tell you to want. It matters not if you get a balanced meal with the appropriate components and correct combinations. Just whether you are happy with the selection. I have found this approach ends up with a general malaise about eating and not very healthy choices. When you eat from desire instead of necessity, it is easy to go astray. We always crave what is least healthy unless we have very strongly ingrained habits.

So there I was sitting across the table from Drew, poking at an odd assortment of food (he kept putting fries on my plate alongside the cottage cheese) and wanting to have a conversation with him. But he was watching three TV screens, all set on different channels. He scarfed down his food, went back for more, added in a second glass of chocolate milk (he claims it tastes like ice cream), all the while patiently answering with one word sentences my attempts at engaging him in conversation. He was very solicitous of my well being.

I thought back to meals when I was younger, everyone sitting around the table, choking on rutabagas with liver and trying not to talk all at once. There was no TV, no phone (Drew's cell went off a number of times while we were eating), and no one left the table until everyone was finished. Pretty drastic change. I wonder what Drew will do when he is married and has children of his own. Will it be crazy or calm? Connected or disconnected? He jokes about the freshmen 15 - pounds they gain. I am more concerned about body function and strength. Who can I find to encourage him to make wise choices here? I shall have to find some sports person or comic book character who believes in eating healthy. Meanwhile, I have my own issues to address!

First Service Back

How wonderful it is to see everyone! There is a certain excitement in the air as we warm up in the music room, and work the nervous kinks out. Smiles are everywhere. Despite a worry that there will be more people in the choir than in the congregation, the pews fill up. Our new strategy to make the hymns more engaging, to be more invitational for singing rather than just plodding along, is helped out by one of our high school students who brings his trumpet and accompanies the some of the hymns. We also have a percussionist for one of the songs.

We are privileged to have a story teller among us for the day and she draws the adults as well as the children into her yarn during the children's time. We have changed the order of the service a bit, and we have to work to get the pieces in the right places. First Sundays can be a bit challenging anyway, even if there are no changes. Fortunately, the Holy Spirit knits it all together, and hearts are touched.

I am glad to be back. This year more than ever I am challenged by the good Lord to do this work well. To listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, to internalize the music so that I can worship rather than just perform, to pray consistently for the people who participate in the music program in all the various ways. Love the Lord with all my heart, soul, mind, strength, might, being, spirit - all in and all committed to his work. And I know that goes far beyond just the music.

May God abundantly bless hearts and minds this year and draw us closer to him.

Notre Dame Retreat

The seminary annual retreat is early this year. Usually it comes well after the  undergraduate semester start up. For whatever reason, it is this weekend, and I think about whether to go to Canandaigua Friday night for the Vespers service, or wait until Saturday and drive down early in the morning. I know myself well enough to realize that my strength is better in the morning, so I opt for the Saturday only part.

I have not yet been to the Notre Dame retreat center. The drive down is pleasant, the day a bit chilly and promising rain, but the last part of the journey is along the lake, right by the water. I drive by grand homes and hovels, watch boats in all sizes from row boat to small speed boat to cabin cruisers bob in the choppy water. Gulls cry and wheel overhead. Almost no one is out and about at this early hour.

The retreat center sits up on a hill overlooking the lake, surrounded by spacious green lawns and bits of wooded areas.The humble brick buildings could have been part of almost any institution from a school to a nursing home. Other than the few statues scattered here and there, one would not necessarily know this was a Catholic retreat center. The several gardens boast colorful flowers and the view is expansive.

It is difficult to discern exactly which door to enter, but happily I find the right one and wend my way down a long and winding hall, signs confirming that I am headed in the right direction for NES. I register, glance at the tempting book table, then continue into the cafeteria where people are clustered around steaming cups of coffee and various breakfast foods, catching up with friends, making new acquaintances.

Our speaker, Dr. Jan Johnson, is very down to earth and practical. She knows that the whole issue of becoming formed in the image of God is tricky. We so easily fool ourselves into thinking that we are doing well and all the while deep beneath the surface, where it counts the most, lurks every horrible behavior known to humankind. She helps us take a real look, discover what we need to know about ourselves. She does it with humor and stories and time to reflect on what she is presenting. She has much experience, and yet she too continues to ferret out those rascally thoughts that have no place in the heart of a godly person. Sometimes the revelations are 'ouches.'

It is a low key retreat. I appreciate that. I am happy to be home in time for dinner, and bring with me a sense of quietness and calm. This is good. I know for the staff it was a great deal of work. I appreciate their efforts. Mostly, I want to sleep and let this growing desire to be a kinder, more loving person lead me in new directions.

Mission Impossible

Last night after choir practice, I went home and tried my best to stay awake. Our library open house event this year begins at midnight, and is a game patterned after the movie Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. I am tired, and I drift off several times. Finally, it is 11:30 pm and I gather my stuff and head for the car for the 3 minute drive back to work.

Students are gathering, and our student workers and staff have gotten into the spirit of the game, dressing for the area they will be working at. For example, I am in the party room, and I wear my flashy red jacket and black velvet pants with long dangling earring of 'diamonds.' One of the waiters is wearing his tux. Two girls are in formal evening attire. The nurse in the hospital area is wearing scrubs. Props are in place. Signs are posted. The registration table is set up. I climb the stairs to my assigned room, grateful that I will be able to sit down. I hear the gate go down, and the game begins.

Participants have also dressed for the event. Some of the teams are all in black, secret agent attire for sure. They scurry about, trying to be clandestine while accomplishing their goal of finding the lost item. Here and there they get a fake clue and have to backtrack. Someone on their team gets kidnapped and ends up in jail. Someone else may get shot and have to go to the hospital for a time out. Or they could get caught in a sandstorm. Everyone seems to enjoy the chase, some even get a bit carried away. Over all, they are introduced to both the space and the faces they will encounter in our library over the course of the upcoming semesters.

It all moves along quickly, and by 1 pm we are drawing names for the prizes. I sneak out early, leaving the wrap up to those who have a bit more stamina than I do. Fun! Imagine that. At the library of all places. I think we will do this again next year. We'll see what the survey tells us.

First Rehearsal

What a muggy evening. The air is heavy and still, the humidity high. We open all the windows in the sanctuary and turn on the fans. Regardless, sweat is trickling down my back in rivers within minutes. I am delighted to see such a great turnout and feel badly that they will have to endure this oppressive situation. Some look exhausted before we begin, and I decide to skip the physical stretching and just do vocal warm-ups, humming and sighing and working our way up and down the scale.

There is happy chatter and catching up with friends. I get to see pictures of grandchildren who have grown by leaps and bounds, hear about summer trips, and updates on health issues. How wonderful and grand - it is like a family reunion! We sing through the service music and have time to work not just on our first anthem, but to look ahead a bit. Despite the heat, it is a good rehearsal and a wonderful start to the season. This is going to be a terrific year. Best part was, I was able to sing and my voice worked most of the time! I wasn't sure I could do it. Between coughing and vocal fatigue, I have not been able to sing on Sundays at all over the summer.Here's hoping I will be able on Sunday as well.

People at Panera's

I don't often get to eat at Panera's these days. But today I found myself ordering my favorite smoked turkey on country white hold the onions sandwich, and sitting down to fully enjoy a meal. I selected a seat in the back room beyond the unlit fireplace, back where the sun was shining merrily through the windows and there were fewer people. I faced towards the outdoors, unwrapped my sandwich, took a big bite, and sat back to warm my face in the sun. I even closed my eyes, knowing no one was looking.

Slowly I tuned in to what I was hearing, and found myself drawn into half spun dramas where my imagination had to supply some of the details. In the corner booth, surrounded by paperwork and a laptop, sat a middle aged man nursing a cup of coffee. He seemed to be some sort of sales rep, and spent most of the time on his cell phone making nice with people, being understanding of their situations, asking for appointments. By his frequent between-calls sighing, I suspect things are not going particularly well these days, whatever it is he is selling. I watch him nervously tap his pencil and shuffle papers around while his honey smooth voice cajoled people on the other end of the line.

Across the room sat another young man who didn't even have a cup of coffee or anything else in front of him. He just slumped over the table as if he were exhausted, his face somber, his eyes puffy slits, his sweatshirt pulled up around his ears, the perfect picture of sad. He sat completely still, tucked in the far corner behind the fireplace out of reach from prying eyes, his hands crammed into his pockets.

The only other occupants of the back room were two older women chattering away happily about some juicy event that they had both witnessed. Their conversations was peppered with "can you believe" and "what was she thinking" and other epitaphs of incredulity about whatever it was the offender had done. I half wondered if they were discussing a soap opera, and expected to hear comments about illegitimate children and illicit love affairs. Mostly though, they were obsessed by something that was said.

I took a bite of the dill pickle, letting the sharp tang tantalize my tongue, and returned my gaze to the outdoors, tuning out the other occupants of the room. This lunch is for my enjoyment, and I intend to take full advantage of the time to thoroughly appreciate my food, this day, this moment of leisure, and the wonderful weather. Companions in the room notwithstanding.

And They're Off!

Monday, the first day of the semester, was fairly calm in the library. Every semester has its own pace and flavor. This one seemed to be quiet and reserved. Until today! Today began with a bang and went upwards from there. Every computer is occupied, every group study room full from the very first part of the day to the very end. Not a lot of rowdy chatter either. Lots of serious study and work being done despite the ubiquitous Facebook going on.

This feels like the real pace of the semester. Full house with lots of good work happening. I'll take it! I love to see students in the library doing what it is that I naively think students mostly do - learn. Now if Drew could just get the message . . .

RWC Community Chapel

Roberts is trying something new this year. We are having community chapels on Mondays. The goal is for faculty, staff and students to worship together, to get to know more people, to share our faith and to grow in spirit wrapped around the same themes. September's theme is "Renewing Your Life in God." Initially, I believe this began as a comment from students that they would like to see more faculty at chapel.

Today is the first day for our experiment. I enter Hale auditorium. The place is abuzz with excitement and awash with conversations. Seats are already filling with a good mixture of students and faculty and staff. Our speaker is Jack Connell, my professor of preaching. He is always thought provoking and engaging. We find our way down front to empty seats (there is always room down front!) and sit next to the Provost. Ads are running for campus events on the jumbo screen on stage. Students are climbing over the back of seats to get where they want to sit - usually next to someone they know.

And then we begin. It feels a bit odd to be part of the congregation singing, rather than on the platform leading, but that's OK. Helps me remember what it is like for congregation members. The Scripture is read dramatically, and Rev. Dr. Connell steps up. I am not disappointed. He tells stories, uses humor, admits his own humanity, and along the way opens our minds to ask ourselves questions about what is hiding deep inside that really ought not to be there. Don't look too close yet. Just get the idea. You are not as perfect as you think you might be. No matter who you are.

People drink it in from the balcony to the platform. What better way to build community than to take a journey together and along the way, to help each other and share our stories. I am hopeful that this initiative will become entrenched, become part of the Roberts culture, the expected thing to do. Not because you are required to attend a certain number of chapel services every semester, but because wild horses could not keep you away. Because the value of being there far outweighs the call of the mattress. For a change, let's just be in God's presence because it is a wonderful place to be.

Season's End

Today is the last Sunday I will attend church at Community of the Savior. Summer is drawing to a close (even though it does not officially end until well into September), and I will return to my position at the United Methodist Church. I have been sending out information about rehearsals starting and repertoire we will be working on. The pastor has sent a wonderful detailed list of hymns for the next 3 months of Sundays, along with his topics and focus.

What a wonderful assist and leg up in my planning! Now if I could just catch up with him! I have met with the accompanist and we are working on finding ways to make the hymns more inviting and engaging. While her piano style is amazing and gifted, it is nice to change things up a bit now and again. She has a number of students who also play other instruments who might be willing to play along from time to time.

Besides that, a few new people have expressed interest in singing in the choir and will be joining us this year, and some of the choir members who were battling illness last year are well enough to rejoin. It is a shot in the arm to know that the chairs will not only be full, but we will add a few! I work with the music librarian to identify anthems that are SAB or 2-part for those important first few pieces. While they still need to be on topic, I don't want to assign something overly challenging until we have had time to ease back into our work.

It feels good to look down the calendar and have a good idea what we will be doing when, and how to prepare for what is coming. I like to work at least 5 weeks out for service music, and seasonally, start preparing for Advent in August.

As I reflect about this preparation, I realize that not all my transitions come this gracefully. Sometimes I have to make a switch on a moment's notice with no time to prepare in advance. Sometimes you go into a new venture without the necessary tools at all. Even with the weather, some years the transitions are gradual and other years it just clunks from one season to the next overnight without warning.

I pray that for all the transitions of my life, I will appreciate having plenty of time to prepare, and for those times when I don't even see the change coming, the grace and sustenance of God.

Garage Sale

My brother and sister have been minding the garage sale for two days already. They are old hands at it. Much of what is laid out on tables and in bins and about the yard came from my parents' home. When my sister was preparing it for sale, there was so much to deal with that she just brought it home and tucked it in all her storage spaces - garage, basement, shed and even in her dining room. Sixty years of house-holding reduced to a few hundred boxes. My sister patiently made sure each item was clean, in working order, and properly tagged. Lots of work.

Truthfully, I am completely useless. My sister answers questions, negotiates, and takes the money. My brother helps take stuff to people's cars, then readjusts the merchandise. I sit. And no matter where I sit, I am in the way. Besides, I have to stay out of the sun, and there aren't many places out of the sun. I think I could go get lunch and contribute in that way, but my sister already has stuff in her fridge. Finally, as much as I had promised to help, and as much as I would like to be supportive, I give up. My sister is irritated with my non helpful presence, and I finally tell them I have a few errands to run and will be back at closing to help put stuff away.

I can see the relief on my sister's face. She does think I am incompetent and lazy. I'm not, but when she is micromanaging and nothing I could possibly do would be right, she leaves me no alternative. And I do have things I need to accomplish. So when she starts kavetching and complaining about all the work and how tired she is, I smile and sympathize. I know it doesn't have to be like that, but somehow she prefers it that way. Perhaps it makes her feel like she is needed - and we all do appreciate her efforts. Or it just keeps her busy so she doesn't have to think about Mom and Dad being gone.

Whatever the case, the garage sale was a good success. I congratulate her on a job well done, all the while realizing that there is so much stuff not sold that either she will be able to take a huge tax break from contributing it to Good Will, or her storage areas will be crammed for some time to come. I guess there are benefits to living in an apartment with no storage space.