While it seems death is ever-present at the moment (Christian is pending, Papa R went several weeks ago, a friend lost her baby at 8 months), this photo reminds me of the miracles God performs. Just a year ago, Survivor Mommy (my partner's sis) was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer that had metastasized to her liver and lungs. Her youngest daughter was just 2 months old at the time.
She had a colon-resection surgery in January, began chemo shortly thereafter, adopted an alkaline diet, and implemented measures to reduce stress. The doctors went from talking terminal to a more tempered outlook ("you can live with this") to shock ("I've never seen the word 'tremendous' used in a lab report before"). She claimed God's miraculous healing, prayers went up worldwide, the support staff went into action, and she is still with us.
God is indeed good.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Yummy!
Made this one for my sister's Christmas Eve party, adding a fourth element to the established traditions (1. cheese potato soup, 2. beef stew, 3. lil smokies). We like to Polynesian it up by serving it over rice with diced bananas, peanuts, raisins, and jicama (when available).
West African Peanut Stew
2 cups shredded chicken
1 large onion diced
1 T minced garlic
¼ C dark sesame oil
1 T curry powder
1 t salt
1 t pepper
1 t dried red pepper flakes (or to taste)
4+ cups chicken broth (whatever consistency looks best to you)
½ cup tomato paste
2 cups chopped stewed tomatoes, drained
½ cup chunky peanut butter
In a large pot, sauté the cooked chicken, onion, and garlic in sesame oil for about 10 min. until onion is tender. Add curry powder, salt, pepper, and pepper flakes, sauté for 1 min. Add broth, tomato paste, stewed tomatoes, and peanut butter stirring until well combined. Heat until hot, not boiling, and serve immediately.
West African Peanut Stew
2 cups shredded chicken
1 large onion diced
1 T minced garlic
¼ C dark sesame oil
1 T curry powder
1 t salt
1 t pepper
1 t dried red pepper flakes (or to taste)
4+ cups chicken broth (whatever consistency looks best to you)
½ cup tomato paste
2 cups chopped stewed tomatoes, drained
½ cup chunky peanut butter
In a large pot, sauté the cooked chicken, onion, and garlic in sesame oil for about 10 min. until onion is tender. Add curry powder, salt, pepper, and pepper flakes, sauté for 1 min. Add broth, tomato paste, stewed tomatoes, and peanut butter stirring until well combined. Heat until hot, not boiling, and serve immediately.
Post-Christmas Post
I mentioned Christian in my last post. It appears his time is near, likely tomorrow. Let our prayers usher him into heaven. Let our prayers support and cushion his family. I. cannot. even. imagine. the. pain. [www.caringbridge.org/visit/christianbarker]
"Likewise, the Spirit also helpeth our infirmity; for we know not what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." (Romans 8:26) I find it amazing that God Himself prays for us...to Himself. Wow. I know He's praying for the Barkers right now, as am I.
"Likewise, the Spirit also helpeth our infirmity; for we know not what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered." (Romans 8:26) I find it amazing that God Himself prays for us...to Himself. Wow. I know He's praying for the Barkers right now, as am I.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Almost-Christmas Eve Bullets
- If you haven't discovered joys of http://www.freerice.com/, let me take this opportunity to recommend it, for both enjoyment and good cause (good cause being learning vocabulary and donating rice to those in need). I'm asking my AP kids to visit it at least thrice over this Christmas break.
- Doing experiential, whole-family gifts is the only way to go for Christmas, as far as I'm concerned! Our family made the decision to do this this year, and it has led to an essentially stress-free season. It forced us to spend less (we enacted a dollar limit), caused us to be creative in our presentation of the gift to the family, and it will increase family together time over the course of this next calendar year! Can't beat that! [For those who are wondering, we had my side of the family's Christmas early -- the 22nd -- so we know what our gifts are. Throughout the year, we will be visiting the Getty, doing a traditional family game night, picnicking in Descanso Gardens to the tunes of the Pasadena Pops Orchestra, boating around the Long Beach Harbor and Naples, and attending a cooking class together.]
- Next year will be no gifts. We're going to the Grand Canyon for Christmas! (We did this for the first time several years ago, in Yosemite. It snowed on Christmas morning. It was a gorgeous trip!)
- My sister was born on Christmas Day (2:30 a.m.) lo these 33 years ago. She was delivered to my mom swaddled in a ginormous red stocking. :-) Many people who learn of her birthday moan and mention how terrible they think having a Christmas birthday would be. Don't you get ripped off? Don't people give you combination gifts? Ever since I can remember, we have always held a Christmas Eve birthday party for her, a completely separate event from Christmas. It has morphed into both birthday and annual see-old-friends party. In years when we travel for Christmas, we hold the event on a different...and so many friends comment how weird Christmas Eve felt with no LittleSis party.
- Fervently praying for young Christian, son of my dentist (who has become at least a little more than an acquaintance). Christian has acute lymphoblastic leukemia, diagnosed over a year and a half ago. He's received two bone marrow transplants. With the first, the cancer recurred. With the second, his body and the donor marrow have not been getting along as well we'd like. The cancer is still gone, but he is suffering a 'multipass' of physical woes -- things no 14-year-old should have to endure. If anyone who reads this is the praying type, your petitions would be most appreciated. If you're interested in knowing more, visit his Caring Bridge site: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/christianbarker.
- Looking forward to visiting with some old and dear friends this Christmas break! One is an old college buddy, another a retired colleague, and possibly a former student. I'm making a Christmas resolution to actually make contact with a couple other friends of yore. Why is it so easy to lurk on blogs and so difficult to make meaningful contact?
- I was forced to pack up my entire classroom (everything into boxes) so the carpet could be replaced over Christmas break. Now, I don't want to sound like an ingrate, because I'm actually thankful for new carpet -- the old stuff was ripping up, stained, and foul -- but doesn't it seem illogical to make me pack up twice in the same school year? Wouldn't it be more efficient to do it during the summer, when the room is already packed? I had to eat into instructional time and have my students help me pack, because there was no physically possible way I could have gotten it done on my own...save staying till 10 p.m. each night for at least a week...which I would have happily done during this Christmas season...when hell froze over...or if they actually paid me overtime for it. (Ha!) Our Key Club kids are coming in one day near the end of break...and so am I {sigh} to unpack everything and get it all back into place. It's that or lose another instructional day. Seems wrong.
- I wish you all a restful Christmas filled with reflection and renewal.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Advent and Poetry
How wonderful to return to church today after a several-week absence. How wonderful is Advent, the beginning, a fresh start. How hopeful I feel.
I had my Madeleine-and-me day on Friday, which was perfect as we were receiving a day of desperately needed rain. We stoked up the fire, had it burning all day; I slept in till I woke naturally; I gathered a stack of Madeleine's books, both first reads and rereads, and I went to it; drank lots of hot vanilla chai; gorgeous day, one my soul needed.
I've reread Moon by Night, which I haven't read since high school. It's funny what I did and did not remember of it. I recalled the book cover, a shot of two teens sitting on a national park-ey stone wall with colorful buttes and monoliths behind them. I recalled the difficult relationship stuff between Vicky and Zach. I recalled some of the small offhanded-but-important things various characters said to Vicky. I had managed to completely forget that the setting of the book is a country-crossing road trip. How did I forget that? My family did that kind of thing a lot in my growing up days. I was surprised I had forgotten, is all.
I'm reading Wintersong, which is a collection of Christmas-related readings by both Madeleine and her dear friend, Luci Shaw. Some beautiful, striking, thought-provoking work -- I'll comment more specifically later, when the spirit moves.
Today I'm moved to talk about Mary Oliver. My first introduction to Oliver was, strangely enough, from the AP English Language exam. Students were given a prose passage from her Blue Pastures (which I've not yet read) extolling the beauty/terror of both the great horned owl and sand dune roses. Incredible, visceral, powerful piece of writing. My students totally don't get it. (It's prompted me to work on nature-writers unit, for clearly these city kids need this, not only for deepening their reading skills but also to hone their own powers of observation and to minister to their souls.)
In any case, I was prompted to look her up, and I found she's better known as a poet, and a Pulitzer Prize- and National Book Award-winning poet at that. So I snatched up three or four of her books on Amazon and I'm just now diving in. Wow. And again I say Wow.
I made reference in an earlier post to my partner's and my serious discussions of moving out of the concrete jungle to someplace beautiful...and our determination to do it while we're still young enough to enjoy it. Then I read Oliver's poem, "When I am Among the Trees," and my soul shouted yes!
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."
--Mary Oliver, from Thirst
Amen, and amen.
I had my Madeleine-and-me day on Friday, which was perfect as we were receiving a day of desperately needed rain. We stoked up the fire, had it burning all day; I slept in till I woke naturally; I gathered a stack of Madeleine's books, both first reads and rereads, and I went to it; drank lots of hot vanilla chai; gorgeous day, one my soul needed.
I've reread Moon by Night, which I haven't read since high school. It's funny what I did and did not remember of it. I recalled the book cover, a shot of two teens sitting on a national park-ey stone wall with colorful buttes and monoliths behind them. I recalled the difficult relationship stuff between Vicky and Zach. I recalled some of the small offhanded-but-important things various characters said to Vicky. I had managed to completely forget that the setting of the book is a country-crossing road trip. How did I forget that? My family did that kind of thing a lot in my growing up days. I was surprised I had forgotten, is all.
I'm reading Wintersong, which is a collection of Christmas-related readings by both Madeleine and her dear friend, Luci Shaw. Some beautiful, striking, thought-provoking work -- I'll comment more specifically later, when the spirit moves.
Today I'm moved to talk about Mary Oliver. My first introduction to Oliver was, strangely enough, from the AP English Language exam. Students were given a prose passage from her Blue Pastures (which I've not yet read) extolling the beauty/terror of both the great horned owl and sand dune roses. Incredible, visceral, powerful piece of writing. My students totally don't get it. (It's prompted me to work on nature-writers unit, for clearly these city kids need this, not only for deepening their reading skills but also to hone their own powers of observation and to minister to their souls.)
In any case, I was prompted to look her up, and I found she's better known as a poet, and a Pulitzer Prize- and National Book Award-winning poet at that. So I snatched up three or four of her books on Amazon and I'm just now diving in. Wow. And again I say Wow.
I made reference in an earlier post to my partner's and my serious discussions of moving out of the concrete jungle to someplace beautiful...and our determination to do it while we're still young enough to enjoy it. Then I read Oliver's poem, "When I am Among the Trees," and my soul shouted yes!
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."
--Mary Oliver, from Thirst
Amen, and amen.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
thanksgiving, grading, madeleine
This here's a catch-all, since I haven't been meeting my goal of posting once or twice a week. [ahem]
Thanksgiving: Lovely time with parents, sis, and cousins (3) and cousins' kid. Somewhat scaled back; not as many casseroles as usual. While I missed some of said casseroles (and plan to make one of them myself this week, I miss it that badly [ahem]), it felt good to be a bit more moderate. We spent less time in the kitchen, more time hanging out and talking, and the post-dinner consequences were much less painful -- satisfaction versus stuffed.
School: Well, I've done no -- NO -- grading this weekend. Let me make myself clear. I've. done. NO. grading. And I am gonna pay dearly. I'm already behind in my AP class, both in schedule and in returning papers. My sophomores have finished a novel (bless Mockingbird), and they've done an absymal draft of a wretched paper that I dread even to read much less mark up with revision advice. I was supposed to decide this weekend how to triage this disastrous paper, and I am no better now than I was on Wednesday afternoon (except better fed and more rested).
I cannot make myself grade at home anymore; this year is apparently a rebel year. I spent this weekend eating, watching movies, decorating for Christmas, cleaning out my constipated closet, watching TV, watching nieces/nephews, taking a real-age survey (my 36 is actually 43 [sigh] -- exercise, flossing, and better nutrition, anyone?), and reading.
Madeleine: As desperately as I want to attend the memorial service this Thursday at Cathedral of St. John the Divine, I have come to terms with the fact that it would be financial folly for me to fly across the country just now. However, it is important for me, personally, to commemorate this her birthday and passing into the next life. She is too important to me -- to my development, my thinking, my sense of God and mystery. Therefore, I shall take Thursday off and conduct my own memorial day of reading, poetry, writing, reflection. It is a compromise, but I am satisfied with it.
Other news: My lifelong partner and I are making more than just ephemeral "someday" plans for moving. We crave a place with beauty, clean air, a dedication to nature and preserving our God-created environment. We want out of the concrete jungle. And we are making more than just a pipe dream. Planning is good.
Thanksgiving: Lovely time with parents, sis, and cousins (3) and cousins' kid. Somewhat scaled back; not as many casseroles as usual. While I missed some of said casseroles (and plan to make one of them myself this week, I miss it that badly [ahem]), it felt good to be a bit more moderate. We spent less time in the kitchen, more time hanging out and talking, and the post-dinner consequences were much less painful -- satisfaction versus stuffed.
School: Well, I've done no -- NO -- grading this weekend. Let me make myself clear. I've. done. NO. grading. And I am gonna pay dearly. I'm already behind in my AP class, both in schedule and in returning papers. My sophomores have finished a novel (bless Mockingbird), and they've done an absymal draft of a wretched paper that I dread even to read much less mark up with revision advice. I was supposed to decide this weekend how to triage this disastrous paper, and I am no better now than I was on Wednesday afternoon (except better fed and more rested).
I cannot make myself grade at home anymore; this year is apparently a rebel year. I spent this weekend eating, watching movies, decorating for Christmas, cleaning out my constipated closet, watching TV, watching nieces/nephews, taking a real-age survey (my 36 is actually 43 [sigh] -- exercise, flossing, and better nutrition, anyone?), and reading.
Madeleine: As desperately as I want to attend the memorial service this Thursday at Cathedral of St. John the Divine, I have come to terms with the fact that it would be financial folly for me to fly across the country just now. However, it is important for me, personally, to commemorate this her birthday and passing into the next life. She is too important to me -- to my development, my thinking, my sense of God and mystery. Therefore, I shall take Thursday off and conduct my own memorial day of reading, poetry, writing, reflection. It is a compromise, but I am satisfied with it.
Other news: My lifelong partner and I are making more than just ephemeral "someday" plans for moving. We crave a place with beauty, clean air, a dedication to nature and preserving our God-created environment. We want out of the concrete jungle. And we are making more than just a pipe dream. Planning is good.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
ancient (?) history
Saw this on another blog and figured I'd take a stab at it. Gives me something to blog about, because what's going on IRL would take too long to write about tonight.
What were you doing ten years ago, twenty years ago, thirty years ago?
Thirty Years Ago:
I was six, which means I was in first grade in Original Racecar State. I went to Patriotically-Named Christian School, and had Miss T as a teacher. Looking back now, I realize she was probably only in her twenties at the time; she seemed so matronly. I remember earning colored foil stars in my speed-reading drill book. I remember walking for recess to the sort-of park, down the street from the church which housed our classrooms; Miss T would occasionally amuse our single-file first grade line by surprising us with a skip after every few steps. This was especially amusing given her generous proportions and voluminous shawls and extreme age (to us). My family would move westward in two years.
Twenty Years Ago:
I was sixteen with nary a thought of driving (didn't get my license till I was 18 and Mom made me). I was a sophomore in Ghetto Christian School (dubbed as such because it really was located in a scary part of town), and it was my first year at "real" high school; my junior high was a throwback, extending through 9th grade. I had made the JV volleyball team (thrilling) and was enduring the pain of geometry. I met the girl who would be my best friend for the next ten-plus years. She introduced me to the 'evils' of alternative rock music and the joys of deep philosophy (best expounded in the wee smalls).
Ten Years Ago:
I had already been with my life partner for nearly two years -- ok, a year and a half. Three years out of Local Christian U, I was whiling away my time as a secretary at Company that Cuts and Cooks Trees. It would be three more years before I came to my senses and went back to school for my teaching credential. I had enjoyed discovering the beauty and logic of Anglicanism for about five years, but Young Upstart Anglican Church was set to implode a few short years later.
Wonder what the next ten years will bring.
What were you doing ten years ago, twenty years ago, thirty years ago?
Thirty Years Ago:
I was six, which means I was in first grade in Original Racecar State. I went to Patriotically-Named Christian School, and had Miss T as a teacher. Looking back now, I realize she was probably only in her twenties at the time; she seemed so matronly. I remember earning colored foil stars in my speed-reading drill book. I remember walking for recess to the sort-of park, down the street from the church which housed our classrooms; Miss T would occasionally amuse our single-file first grade line by surprising us with a skip after every few steps. This was especially amusing given her generous proportions and voluminous shawls and extreme age (to us). My family would move westward in two years.
Twenty Years Ago:
I was sixteen with nary a thought of driving (didn't get my license till I was 18 and Mom made me). I was a sophomore in Ghetto Christian School (dubbed as such because it really was located in a scary part of town), and it was my first year at "real" high school; my junior high was a throwback, extending through 9th grade. I had made the JV volleyball team (thrilling) and was enduring the pain of geometry. I met the girl who would be my best friend for the next ten-plus years. She introduced me to the 'evils' of alternative rock music and the joys of deep philosophy (best expounded in the wee smalls).
Ten Years Ago:
I had already been with my life partner for nearly two years -- ok, a year and a half. Three years out of Local Christian U, I was whiling away my time as a secretary at Company that Cuts and Cooks Trees. It would be three more years before I came to my senses and went back to school for my teaching credential. I had enjoyed discovering the beauty and logic of Anglicanism for about five years, but Young Upstart Anglican Church was set to implode a few short years later.
Wonder what the next ten years will bring.
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